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#was my hero lol. i just didn’t post about it here
coldbug · 2 years
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sorry i feel like outing myself right now. i’m a big time bakugo stan that’s my fuckin boy right there
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f0point5 · 8 months
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I had the time of my life, with you
Companion piece to the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au
✨Set in Abu Dhabi 2021, right before the race✨
A/N: So it turns out setting myself deadlines actually works lol. I still have a love/hate relationship with these pieces. But, I have a special place in my heart for this one because I had the title in my head since like the second week of the smau and I didn’t use it for any other chapter because of that. And also it’s an Easter egg because in the AD bonus part Y/N uses it as a caption for her Instagram post as an Easter egg for Max ;) we love a mastermind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little ramble.
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You thought you knew tension. You thought, growing up like you did, you were more than familiar. The eerie silence, the glazed expressions as your mind tries to protect you from close the chaos is, the pit in your stomach, that heaviness of breath, that feeling of cold that goes down to your bones no matter the weather.
Fucking hell, were you wrong.
You’ve never known tension like this.
The garage is thrumming with energy. Everyone is going about their business quicker, deeper, quieter, than it seems like they ever have. The grandstands are filling up, music blasting over the speakers. There’s a palpable electricity in the air. You’ve been shivering all day, unable to get warm enough even in a jacket in the desert heat.
You wrap your arms around yourself as you wind through along the narrow corridors behind the garage to the small room that Max has been hiding in. For the first time in a while, you knock instead of going straight it.
You’ve barely seen him all day, he’s been pulled this way and that for a hundred interviews and briefings, ducking the Netflix crews who’ve never been so sycophantic. They made him a villain, and now they lurk like there’s blood in the water in case he becomes the hero. Selfishly, you’ve missed him, and when you’d said as much to Christian, he’d just nodded to the back of the garage.
“He’s taking a couple of minutes to himself,” Christian had said, fixing his gaze on you. “But you should go and see him,”
So you had. And as you heard a gentle “Come in,” over the noise of drills and loud dance music and stepped inside, you realised why.
This was tension, you thought as your eyes fell on Max. He was on the small couch, hunched over, elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together almost as if he were praying. It’s like you can see every muscle in his body pulled taut under his fireproofs. He doesn’t even raise his head when you come in, but you suppose he glances at your shoes to know it’s you.
You close the door behind you, leaning against it. You’re not sure why, but it feels like you’ll bother him less from over here.
“Hey, champ,” you say, mustering a smile in case he looks at you. He doesn’t, at first. His eyes stay on the ground, and then, painfully slowly, his head lifts.
His eyes are still your favourite colour, his hair is still a bit too long, he’s still unshaven because he couldn’t be bothered even though he might be looking at pictures of this night for the rest of his life. He’s still Max.
“It’s a bit early for that,” he says, his half smile as delicate as yours. Yeah, still Max.
“Respectfully, I disagree,” you tell him crossing your arms over your chest as he looks up at you. “Since I can remember you’ve wanted to be a champion, and since I can remember, I knew you would be. That nickname is twenty years in the making,”
His eyes drop to his hands again and your heart drops with them. You’re trying so hard to say the right thing, but it was arrogant to think you ever had a chance. What experience in your frivolous existence would help you know what to say at a time like this. You wonder if you should just leave him to it as you fold your bottom lip between your teeth to chew at it as another shiver wracks your body.
“Twenty years,” Max says quietly, making you look over at him again. “It’s a long time,”
“Yeah, it is,” you reply, nodding even though he’s not looking at you. You edge closer to him, and when he doesn’t react, you take a seat beside him. Not as close as every cell in your body tells you you need to be, but as close as you feel like he’d want right now.
“You don’t understand,” he says with a sigh.
You don’t respond, because you know you don’t. You’ve never committed to anything, loved anything, lived for anything, like this. This dream of his has outlived marriages, outlasted memories, predated a friendship that feels like it has been going on forever. It’s the only thing Max has ever wanted. You’ll never be able to understand, because no matter how much you love him, he loved racing first.
“Tell me what to say, Max,” you almost beg as you reach towards him. You can’t even hold his hand, so you just place yours on his wrist, fingertips resting against his skin at the edge of his sleeve.
You glance over at him, naively hoping he will look over at you and tell you what he needs from you. Because you’d do anything.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he just says, “I’m sorry,” in a small voice the brings a lump to your throat.
You shake your head. “Don’t be. I know I don’t understand. No one can. Not me, not Christian, not Stan, not even your dad. You’ve outclassed your whole support system here,” you say this last part with a laugh, but it’s true. He’s alone now more than ever, he’ll stand on that top step alone, too. “We’re all so proud of you, you know,”
“I know,” he mutters, and it kind of breaks you how dismissive he is, even if you know why.
“Do you?” You ask him, leaning a little closer to him, but he doesn’t react.
He just continues staring at his hands as he untangles them, his left fingers curling backwards until they brush over your hand on his wrist, and you hastily slot your fingers into his as he lets out a heavy breath.
“Yeah.” He says, sounding more resolute this time.
“And you know that we’ll be proud of you, even if-“ you can’t even bring yourself to say it. “We’ll be proud of you regardless.”
“I know,” he says, “but it’s not enough,”
Despite yourself, you let out a frustrated sigh. “Max, I know that it’s not a trophy, but-“
“No,” he says, squeezing your hand to silence you. “It’s not that. I mean that it’s not enough, to come second.”
You grip his hand tighter as he lets out a laboured breath, his head lifting so he can stare straight ahead where the Dutch flag is pinned to the wall.
“We didn’t do all this to come second.” His voice is low and reverent. “My mum, Vic, I took so much from them. My dad gave up his whole life for this. You put your life on hold for this. It can’t all be for nothing,”
He’s never really said it, but you know what he means - this win is owed. He owes his mother a marriage, his sister a father, and his father a career. And none of that is in his gift, but if he can weigh a championship against all that sacrifice, then maybe he will be forgiven. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he’ll race with a clean slate. Without wondering whether he was worth the life he cost those around him, and the life he cost himself. And you want that for him. God, you want that more than anything.
You reach for him before you can stop yourself. Space be damned. You cup his cheek in your free hand and force him to look at you.
“Max, It won’t be for nothing.” You promise him, your nails pressing gently into his skin as if you’re trying to hold onto him. Like he might float away. “Not to me. Not to anyone who loves you. Even if you don’t win today, even if you never do, even if you shunt on the first lap. I had the time of my life with you this year. Being there for you will never have been for nothing,”
He wants to believe you, you can see it. But even if he believes that you all think that, he doesn’t think that. How do you tell him it’s worth it, when you both know there’s only one way for him to prove it?
“Do you want me to drive?”
Your question catches him off guard so much as that he snorts his laughter. You feel the air against your face as he falls back against the couch.
“I’m serious,” you say, grinning as you watch him. “I’ll put on the suit and the helmet and do the race for you, like Mulan. I did the track walk, I know where I’m going. Vaguely, anyway ,”
You’re making a meal of this mediocre joke, but you’ll do anything you can to keep him as carefree as he looks right now. With his head thrown back and the colour returning to his cheeks as his shoulders shake.
“Engel,” he says, his head lolling in your direction, “You really think you have a better chance of winning than me?”
You reach over to move a stray strand of hair away from his forehead, and his eyes follow your fingers.
“No, I don’t,” you say, letting your hand slide through his hair to rest on his jaw. “Because you, Max Emilian Verstappen, know how to win races better than anyone.”
Your thumb brushed across his stubbled cheek and he leans into it instinctively, just like the cats. The smile you give him feels more like one you remember, and the ones he returns reaches his bright eyes.
“Alright,” he says with a shrug.
He gets to his feet in one smooth movement, pulling you with him towards the door by your entwined hands that you’d quite forgotten about. He must have, too, because when he notices he squeezes your hand to get you to look up at him. When you do, your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time all day, you feel warm.
“I better go and win, then,” he says lightly, pulling the door open.
No one will you believe you, but you know then that you’ll be looking up at him on that podium tonight, when he’ll be a world champion.
“You will.”
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thehusbandoden · 6 months
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"Imoto" -Inlove!Bakugo Katsuki x Oblivious!Reader
A/n: hope this doesn't suck lol, I was exhausted while writing this.
General info:
Genre: pure angst (with an alt ending) \\ wc: 400+ \\ female reader \\ posted: 04/08/24
Summary:
Bakugo, your best friend, helps you score the boy you've been crushing on.. little do you know that he's tearing his heart apart in the process.
Tags: @lemon-lav
Warnings!: pure angst, unreciprocated love, jealousy, anger, hatred, Bakugo loves reader, reader is unaware, reader loves Izuku, reader thinks of Bakugo as an older brother, Bakugo stays quiet and pretends. Idk what else, pls let me know if I miss any. <33
Onii-san: older brother; imoto: little sister
Alt. Ending
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“Are you sure this is going to work?” You whisper nervously, staring at the green-haired boy in the next room. He was talking to Shoto, smiling shyly as he rambled about some new pro hero.  
“Of course it will, now go.” Bakugo grunted, gently pushing you forward. You glance back at him hesitantly. He gives you a small smile, giving you the courage to proceed. You take a deep breath before walking into the next room.  
You feel Bakugo’s crimson eyes boring into your back as you walk over to your childhood crush, Midoriya Izuku. Shoto’s mismatched eyes see your approaching form, opening his mouth to speak, he’s pulled away by Mina before he can say anything, too oblivious to realize what’s happening.  
Izuku turns around to see you walking over, his emerald eyes lighting up at the sight as a rosy blush invades his cheeks. “O-oh y/n san!”  
~~ 
Bakugo’s pov:  
Bakguo scoffed as he watched the two of you converse, jealousy burning in his chest as he watched you flush from Deku’s honey-covered, idiotic, and pointless words. Bakugo couldn’t help but feel a burning sense of hatred, jealousy, and hurt as he watched you succeed, knowing he lost his chance.  
He wanted to kick and scream, to throw a fit that he had lost the one that had meant the world to him, he wanted to show you how better he was- how much he cared. He wanted to go over there and show you and that idiotic nerd how he would treat you like a queen- his queen.  
But he didn’t- couldn’t. Deku is what would make you happy. Deku is who you wanted- who you pined for. So, he stayed quiet, watching your eyes light up with joy as you hit it off with the boy he despised the most.  
A large smile on your face appears, and he knows he’s lost. After a few moments you start walking back to him, causing him to straighten his posture and put on a fake smile.
As you reach him, he reaches down to put a hand on your shoulder. “You got him?” 
You nodded in excitement, your eyes shining as you looked up at him. “He’s taking me out to dinner this weekend. Thank you so much, onii-san!”  
Your words tear apart his heart. Onii-san? You thought of him as an older brother..
“Don’t mention it, imoto..” He scoffed, ruffling your hair. He’ll just have to pretend. For you.
~~~~~
Alt. Ending
Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here<3
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33
~~~~~
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.
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blackknight-kai · 24 days
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Being obsessed with this game & character right now…..it’s honestly a problem because it’s all I think about LOL!! It was a surprise for sure, I remember seeing the trailers and thinking “eh looks neat” but otherwise not much else since I didn’t know anything about it whatsoever. And then the game itself actually came out and uhhhhhh that opening scene?????
Anyway, it quickly became a “how fast can I buy this” kind of thing. I’m absolutely abysmal at harder games like this and while its not quite a souls like its still got that level of difficulty from soft channels. I made it through from soft games (up to Elden ring mainly because of how overwhelming the game is in general). But I’ve lost some of my coordination over the years thanks to some stuff with my hands and so playing these it a challenge. I wasnt going to pick this game up.
But that opening scene and watching an hour or two of the game….I couldn’t resist! So while I expect to NOT get through it i am just letting myself have fun with it.
That being said, my initial thought from watching that intro (besides how cool as shit it was), was “Am I attracted to this?”…..
I went from that thought to “I might be attracted to this….noooo….” And then quickly went to “Fuck…I’m attracted to this….” It was a roller coaster of a few days ngl. I’m not NEW to liking characters I think most people crush on them here and there its not that serious, but a monkey man? Really? This is where I am now?
Skjfdklsajkdlfksdlnfksdlnaf
And I find myself refreshing the damn tags here & checking AO3 just for fan content LOL please people! If you’re thinking about writing something or drawing it DO IT!!
I need more BM Wukong monkey man on my feed 😭 not just “how to find this item” no no no…..if a lego version of this character can have popularity we need THIS version to have some too…..🙏
Those who have already posted you are my hero’s 🥰
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galatially · 9 months
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❝𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬❞
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𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 "𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧" 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 5K
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, exes, angst, smut, soft boi™ logan, exes to tentative lovers
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — it is time to spread the agenda of logan howlett and his influence on my brain rot for most of my nerdy life. shout out to lizzy mcalpine for making "ceilings" and having me spiral over it for a year!
also also, y'all, i know. i'm horrible at deadlines. but it's what y'all love about me lol
also also first post of 2024!
as always, lovely dividers by @firefly-graphics
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Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into his skin, your fingers both light and firm. 
“You have so many scars.” He grunted in response. “When you tell me, am I going to have to set a house on fire?”
Logan laughed. “And why would you do that, bubba?”
“To defend your honor, of course.” You laid across his back to whisper in his ear, the warmth of your breath making the hairs on his body erect. “Can’t have you being the hero all the time. My shoulders are strong, too.”
“…listening? Logan? Logan!”
He blinked, his vision focusing on Ororo’s concerned gaze. 
“What’d you say?”
A soft smile graced her lips. “I asked where you were going.”
Logan hoisted his duffle bag over his shoulder. “I’ve got some business to attend to.”
Ororo hummed. “Would this have to do with a certain someone that lives in the Canadian mountainside?” He didn’t answer as he threw the bag in the back of his truck. “Do you think that’s the best thing for her right now?”
“I just want to make sure she’s okay, Munroe.”
“And then what?” Ororo crossed her arms. “What are you going to do when you see that she’s fine?”
He threw her a hard glare. “I just want to see her. Is that so fuckin’ wrong?”
Her features softened. “You had another dream about her.”
Logan turned back towards the garage. “What does it matter? I just need to see her, Munroe.”
She held her hands up. “I can’t stop you. I just worry that you’re about to uproot this woman’s life because you can’t let her go.”
He took in a sharp breath. She wasn’t wrong; he’d spent the better part of six years raking himself over the coals at how he ended things. If he allowed them, the memories of you screaming and your brown eyes red and puffy from crying haunted him more than any battle he’d ever been in. 
“Look, if you’re so hellbent on going to see her, then go. You’re an adult and you have to live with your decisions.”
He walked around to the driver’s side of his truck. “Tell our fearless leader that I’m goin’ out of town and I’ll be back when I can.”
Ororo nodded and waved, a sad smile on her lips. 
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He shouldn’t fucking be here.
The second Logan crossed the border, he could think of nothing else but to get to you. Thirty-eight hours and he didn’t sleep for any of them. No, his mind’s eyes played memories of you: how soft your skin was, that fig and jasmine perfume you loved. The silken warmth of your cunt. He fucked his fist like a horny fourteen year old in that dingy hotel in BC. If he focused hard enough, he could get the tone of your voice just right — those breathy, pleading moans that you let out only for him. He could get lost in the memories, pretend that he was beside you in your bed, other people be damned. 
But that was thirty-eight hours ago. 
Now, here he was. His hands gripped the steering wheel of his truck until his knuckles went white, silently cursing himself for even showing up. He hadn’t seen you in, what? Six years? Who the hell was he to appear on your doorstep after the shit he pulled? 
His eyes scanned the forest surrounding your home. He hated that you lived so far away from immediate civilization. It took you thirty minutes to get into the nearest town for work and you essentially lived off the grid. When he’d happened upon your home that fateful October evening, he was amazed that you had a working phone, let alone Wi-Fi. Whenever you crossed his mind, he thought the worst. He used to beg you to get an apartment in the city, but you always refused. 
“I’m not ready to let get of this place just yet.” You looked up at him from drawing circles on his bare bicep. “Unless you want to give up city life and live out here with me?”
He didn’t answer; even back then, Logan knew that he was bound to hurt you. His refusal to give you more than idle pleasure was a point of contention for you both. Jean always said that he could be hard to talk to because if he wasn’t picking a fight, he was evading questions. But unlike Jean, you weren’t one to back down. When he’d divert or blatantly ignore your questions, you stood your ground. You didn’t give him the chance to distract you with sudden affection. You wanted to resolve issues as soon as they were made present. 
It’s something Logan both loved and hated about you. 
“Fuck this.” He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. He blew out a determined breath and opened his car door, his feet moving before he changed his mind. As he got closer to the house, he noticed the red “SOLD” sign on the lawn. His chest thrummed with…pain? Remorse? Fear?
What would he do if you left?
He was on your porch now, his heart hammering against his ribcage, fighting to get to you. He raised his hand to knock on the door as it was opening, being met with the face he’d been dreaming about for half a decade. 
Your brows were furrowed in confusion. “James.” 
His hazy memory didn’t do you justice; your eyes seemed more intense than the last time he’d seen you. You were dressed in an oversized t-shirt — eerily familiar to an old Pink Floyd shirt he thought he’d lost years ago — and shorts barely peeking out from under the hem of the shirt. Your skin smooth and begging to be touched. Your dark coils were thrown into a bun, pieces falling out in various places. You weren’t outwardly upset but you could school your features better than anyone he knew. Your body was half-facing him and half-facing the tiny hall that led to the inside of the house. There was a solemnity to your face that he didn’t recognize. 
A voice in the furthest part of his mind whispered that it was because of him. 
“Y’know you’re the only person that still calls me James?”
Your features flattened. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just passin’ through Edmonton and ended up here .”
“You drove for three days on a whim?”
“I was on my way back from handlin’ somethin’,” he said, the familiar finality in his tone. His gaze went past your shoulders and into the darkness of your home. “Have you eaten yet?”
You blinked. “Not yet.” 
He nodded, his blue eyes back on you. “Can I come in? I’ll make you somethin’.”
You should’ve said no. Should’ve slammed the door in his face and went back to packing up the rest of your bedroom. But instead, you moved to the side and let Logan inside. He thanked you and walked inside, toeing off his shoes, and heading back towards the kitchen like he’d been doing it forever.  
You looked out at his old, rusted truck one last time before closing the door and going to the kitchen. From the tiny hallway, you could hear him humming to himself; an old song his mother used to sing to him, he’d told you once. He’d put his hair up into a bun at the top of his head, a few strands falling to frame his face. His tan skin, the same skin that had scars that even his mutation couldn’t heal, glowed under the dull glow of your kitchen light. You used to always tell him beautiful he was, but he’d wave you off in that Logan way, telling you that no one was as beautiful as you. 
You leaned up against the doorjamb. “Last I heard, you were living in New York. You teach at some fancy school?”
Logan chuckled, mincing up onions and garlic. “I wouldn’t say teach.”
“So, what, you get paid to hang out with fourteen year olds in upstate New York? Sounds kind of sketchy.”
“I teach hand to hand combat,” he glanced over at you, “the kids that I teach it to are like me. Mutants.”
You wrinkled your nose. “I never liked that word; mutants. They make you all sound like failed experiments.”
“Aren’t we?”
“No.” You crossed your arms. “Far from it.”
Logan nodded, more to himself than your declaration, and moved to face the stove. He dumped his vegetables in a small pan to cook. He reached to the left of him — muscle memory, you reasoned — and grabbed a jar of maize. “You’d like it. New York.”
“You think?”
Logan lifted a shoulder. “Be better than livin’ all alone in the mountains.”
You let out a hum. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
“Where you headed?”
“I don’t know yet,” your eyes dropped to your fidgeting hands, “I didn’t think that I’d be able to sell the house, actually.”
“Why did you? Sell?”
“You know why,” you said, your voice lowered to a whisper. “I held onto it for her and when she died, I didn’t want to stay.”
“‘M sorry I didn’t reach out. Your mother was a remarkable woman.”
You made a bitter sound. “Yeah, well, you’re good at leaving when the wind blows.”
He pursed his lips, turning around to turn off the stove. “You got any plates or bowls left out?”
“James, I —”
“’S fine, Y/N. Bowls?”
You blew out a breath and walked over to the cupboard beside the stove and grabbed two plates, handing them over to Logan. Your knuckles brushed up against his but you kept your eyes on the oak wood of the cupboard. 
“Thanks.”
You rushed out a hushed “you’re welcome” and moved back to stand in front of the sink. The air was tense and you had to fight the impulse to pull Logan to you and let him consume you, if only for tonight. You tightened your hands into fists, feeling the bite of your nails as they embossed your skin. 
Logan handed you a plate and walked to your tiny kitchen table in the far corner of the room. He sat in his chair: close enough to the back door and facing towards you. Where before it was to smile and regard you with tenderness, now there was unease in his eyes. 
You’d forgotten that you didn’t ask what he was making, so the spread in front of you gave you pause: it was your mother’s polenta recipe. “You remembered.” The words came out airy, surprised. 
“You’re the last thing that I’d ever forget, bubba.”
“Don’t do this, Logan.” You set your spoon down. “Just…don’t.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, either!” You pinched the bridge of your nose. You pushed your plate away and looked away from your former lover. 
What were you doing? He showed up, out of the blue, making you dinner…to do what? The question had been clawing at you the entire visit. Why now? What could Logan possibly want from you after all of these years?
Logan leaned back in the chair, the wood creaking in protest against his broad frame. You kept wanting to speak, break the tense silence, but you couldn’t find the words. Looking at him, he seemed too still. Like a marble statue molded to the chair, anchoring him to this room with you. 
“I fucked up, bubba.”
Your brows canted. “What do you mean?”
“That night…the last night that I was here, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. Made promises that I didn’t know if I could keep.” One of his large hands scrubbed down his face, his eyes still on the ceiling. “I told you that I’d leave everythin’ behind to stay.”
Your bottom lip quivered. You remembered; he’d come here that night more impassioned than usual. His hair wind-swept, his cheeks wind-whipped and red, he pulled you in for one of the most passionate kisses you’d ever had in your life. A clash of tongue and teeth against fleshy lips and curves of skin that left you a shaking mess beneath the thin sheets of your bed. You laid in his arms, running your fingers along the lines of his collarbone, when you’d asked if he’d stay. You weren’t begging, didn’t even lower your voice to a low hush to persuade him. You were as direct as you always were, determined to know where you stood in the universe that was Logan Howlett. 
“You lied.”
His eyes, darkened with sorrow, finally found yours. “I lied.”
You blinked back tears. “Why? If you knew that you weren’t going to make space for me in your life, why make me believe you would? I uprooted my life for you, Logan! I was going to sell my mother’s house and ride off with you into the sunset! And for what? For you to leave me alone?”
“I couldn’t take you with me then, Y/N. Somethin’…came up.”
“I know, Ororo told me.” Logan shot forward, his eyes wide. “She came and found me two years ago. She said that there was an incident and that you almost died. Said that you kept murmuring my name, telling them to make sure that I was safe.”
He scoffed. “Always meddlin’, that woman.”
“At least she cared enough about you to come find me.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re walkin’ a thin line, bubba.”
“Don’t fucking call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore, Logan.” You stood up from the table and opened the back door. “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get. Out,” you hissed. “Thank you for making me dinner, but I want you to go.”
Logan crossed his arms, throwing you a hard look. “No.”
Your nostrils flared. “James, get —”
You’d forgotten how fast he was. He was out of the chair and in front of you in an instant, your next retort dying on your tongue. One of his large hands cupped your chin and the other slammed the door shut. His blue eyes roamed your face, searching for something. 
Though he towered over you, hell, he overpowered you, you didn’t back down. “I want you to leave.” 
“I’m not leavin’. Not until I say what I have to say.”
Your eyes brush along the seams of his lips, lingering, before meeting his smoldering gaze again. “Then say what you need to say and go. I’m done with this.”
Logan’s fingers gripped your chin harder, his gaze hard. “We’re not done talkin’, bubba.” There was an intensity to the nickname as it left his mouth that made your thighs clench together. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing up against yours. 
You gripped the sleeve of his flannel, your pulse fluttering in your ears. The hand that had closed the door moved to the small of your back and pushed you into his pelvis. You gasped at his hardened erection against your thigh. 
“You can yell at me, you can fuckin’ hit me if you need to.” He rested his forehead against yours. “But don’t tell me to leave. I don’t know where to go if I’m not with you.”
“You haven’t had me in years, James,” you said, roughly. You knew that he caught the desperation in your tone, your words. You tipped your head back and lifted up on tiptoe to press your lips to his. When you finally noticed that he hadn’t returned the kiss, you started to pull back, a pit growing in your stomach. 
“I’m —”
His arm tightened around your middle to keep you still. His mouth molded against yours, hungry and desperate. 
You pawed at his flannel, helping him shrug out of it. Logan cupped his hands under your thighs and lifted, wrapping your legs around his waist. You sucked a bruise along the curve where his neck and collarbone meet, relishing in the hiss he let out. 
“Wait, wait, wait.” He pulled back, his gaze intense. “I need to say this before anythin’ else happens between us.” Your brows creased. “I hurt you. I hurt you and it fuckin’ killed me, Y/N, and I’m sorry.”
Your breath caught. You didn’t know Logan enough to know his favorite color or his mother’s name, but you knew enough about him to know that he didn’t apologize. Didn’t matter if he was wrong or right, he just didn’t. But the man before you wasn’t the man you knew six years ago. Now that you were looking at him, you could see it all: the dark circles, the stiffness of his body that only came from being nervous. 
Despite your assertive nature, you didn’t hold grudges. Those types of feelings need to constantly be fed into and that was energy you couldn’t spare. Not even for men that you fell in love with too quickly.
You put your lips to his again. He mirrored your movements and carried you to your bedroom. He sucked a bruise onto the skin between your ear and shoulder, making you let out a whimper. You ground your hips against his hardened erection. 
“Fuck, honey,” he hissed. 
“I need you inside of me, James.” You nipped at his earlobe. “Please.”
He kissed you, long and hard, before helping you out of your thin shorts. His thick fingers glided through your puffy folds, a guttural groan leaving his throat. 
“You this wet for me, Y/N?”
You mewled in response, your hips moving against his digits, begging for pressure on your swollen pearl. 
He gulped, his eyes hungrily tracing over your lust-drunken expression. His cock was straining almost painfully against the denim of his jeans but he couldn’t stop staring at you. He drew the pad of his thumb along the curves of your parted lips, sucking a breath when the tip of your tongue barely swept against the skin. 
He dipped the digit between your lips, watching with rapt pleasure as you suckled and moaned around it. He groaned and curved his free hand around the base of your throat. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”
You shuddered. “I can be.”
“Oh, yeah?” He suckled a love bite onto your skin. “You think you can be mine tonight?”
You nodded eagerly. 
Logan chuckled and threw you over his shoulder, taking what seemed like three large steps into your bedroom and tossed you lightly onto the bed. He took hold of your face and slotted his lips over yours, licking deeply into your mouth. 
You pawed and pulled at his flannel, clumsily helping him out of it while trying to keep kissing him. He hummed against your lips and worked your thin shorts down your thighs before ripping them down the middle. The cool air against your bare cunt gave you gooseflesh. Your hands moved to work at his belt buckle as his own pulled at the shirt you wore.
“Was wonderin’ where this went.”
You chuckled. “You barely wore it.” You made a triumphant noise upon getting his pants undone and to the floor, looking up at him from beneath your thick, dark lashes. 
He wanted to devour you. One of his big paws cupped your face and he ground out, “Are you sure, bubba?”
You took his heavy cock in one of your hands, moving up and down the length of it. You smirked at his sharp breath as you eased down to your knees. Without breaking eye contact, you took him into your mouth, a low groan vibrating against your tongue. 
“Jesus,” he gripped your curls into one fist and threw his head back, “just like that, sugar.”
You hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, the tip of your nose pressing against his pubic mound. The hand that wasn’t giving gentle squeezes to his thigh when to massage his heavy balls. 
A low groan, bordering a growl, tumbled past Logan’s lips. “You have to move, baby. ‘M dyin’.”
You moved your hand from his balls to curl around the base of him, slowly working in tandem with your mouth. You moaned around his cock, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth. You lightly scraped your teeth along the length of him. Logan hissed and gripped the sides of your face and started fucking your face. Your eyes were rimmed red, tears streaming down your face, and yet he looked at you with the reverence reserved for altars and gods. 
“‘M cummin’…’m —”
He came in thick ropes into your mouth, his hips stuttering as he was coming down. His hands fell from the sides of your face to rest them on the tops of his thighs. 
You pushed off of Logan with a faint “pop” and sat back against your calves. Your eyes trailed up and down Logan’s frame; you’d forgotten how big he was. Broad shoulders and back, large hands, thick, corded muscles. He could sometimes be as foreboding as he looked. 
Then, post nut clarity smacked the shit out of you. 
“Shit.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, me, too.”
“No. I mean, shit like we shouldn’t have done that.” You pushed yourself onto your feet. “Where’s my shirt?”
“You mean my shirt?”
You ignored his jibe and scanned the room for the garment. One of his hands shot out and pulled you onto his lap. 
“I can smell ya, sweetheart.”
Your brows creased for a few seconds before you understood what he’d meant. You gulped, your chest rising and falling in hard pants. “Doesn’t matter, James. This was a mistake.”
His eyes — those intelligent, ever-searching eyes — darkened, a hunger in them that you hated that you missed. “Was it? What’s so wrong about two people findin’ each other again?” His thumb swept along your bottom lip. “‘M all yours to do whatever you need, baby.”
Your tongue darted out, barely pressing against his skin before his mouth claimed yours.  He eased you onto your back as his hand traversed the expanse of your torso. His hands pawed and kneaded at your breasts, rubbing and twisting your nipples into stiff peaks. Your back canted towards his touch. His mouth suckled at your right nipple, his other hand still playing at the other.
“James,” you pleaded.
“What, bubba?” He chuckled darkly. “Use your words.”
Every word that flashed in your mind died in your throat. Only incoherent pants and groans left you. Logan switched to your left breast and one of his free hands cupped your mound. Your eyes screwed shut. The rough pad of his thumb brushed up against your clit, sticky with your slick. 
“So wet and I’ve barely touched you.”
Your hips bucked and he rubbed the bundle of nerves again. Slow, tortuous swipes that sent shocks to your system and tightened your belly with need. Just before the coil snapped, his cock drove into you. Tears fell from your eyes and a choked gasp ballooned in your chest. 
“Fuck, honey, s’good.” Logan’s voice was hoarse and desperate. He fucked into you like a man possessed; his big hands gripped your hips, surely leaving bruises behind. He moved one hand to curl at the base of your throat. Vignettes of memories past played in your mind’s eye and you let out a ragged keen, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. His name passed your lips. “Yeah, baby?”
You gripped one of his forearms. “‘M close.”
Rough skin swept across your clit. “Let go for me, bubba. C’mon.”
Your back canted as a guttural moan ripped from your throat. Logan pulled you into his chest, whispering my good girl and I’m here in your ear as you came down. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed. He’d never left you behind six years ago and this was just another evening for the two of you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you buried your face into his chest. 
“Hey.” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate this,” your voice quivered, “I hate that you came back. I hate that I still — ” You shook your head. “We shouldn’t have done that, James.”
Logan cupped your face in his hands. “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anythin’ you ask me to, Y/N, you have to know that.”
“Do I?”
He pulled out of you and gathered you in his arms as he tucked you both into bed. His deep, even breaths reverberated up your spine. You sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. 
“I never meant to hurt you. Hurtin’ you was the last thing that I wanted to do and there’s nothin’ I could do to fix that.” He pressed his lips to the nape of your neck. “Just…talk to me. Please.”
“You broke me, Logan, do you know that? I broke all of my rules for you and it broke me. I was already grieving my mother and you made me grieve you when I never had you to begin with.”
“I know,” he rasped. 
“Do you?”
“When Storm came to visit you, she wasn’t jokin’. I almost fuckin’ died.” He ran the backs of his fingers up and down your spine, his tone faraway. “I was slippin’ away, could barely focus on anythin’ in front of me for too long. Then suddenly, your face was the only thing I saw. I could picture you so clearly, down to the micro expressions that I didn’t even realize I’d paid attention to.” He rested his chin atop your head. “I’d made sure that I never thought of you too often or I’d leave everythin’ behind to come back to you.”
“And yet, here you are.” Your voice wobbled at the end. “You broke the one rule you shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, well, rules are meant to be broken. I don’t regret showing up. Even if this is the only thing I could get, I’d fuckin’ do it all over again just to see you, bubba.”
You turned over to face him, your brown eyes hard. “Yeah, but bodies weren’t, James. You shouldn’t have to nearly die to decide that I’m worth seeing again.”
“You really love half-listenin’, don’t you?” He held your chin between his fingers, lifting your eyes to his. “I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since I left, Y/N. The only reason that I didn’t keep in touch was because I was afraid that you wouldn’t want to see me. Like you said, bodies weren’t meant to broken.”
“Neither were hearts,” you murmured. 
He nodded. “And would yours consider lettin’ me back in? It’s selfish to ask, I know, but I don’t want to let you go again, bubba.” 
You threaded your fingers between his. “I want to. But how will I know if you’ll stay this time, James? What’s changed in the last six years?”
Logan brought the back of your hand up to his lips. The warmth in his eyes, while not unfamiliar, made your breath catch. For a split second, you remembered that he could hear your heartbeat fluttering madly in your chest, your pulse against his forearm. 
“When do you leave for New York?”
Your brows knitted together. “I should be done packing in a few days. Why?”
He pulled one of your legs over his hip, laughing when you sucked in a breath. “We’ll go into town tomorrow, pawn all the stuff you’re not usin’ anymore, and pack up the rest in the truck. We’ll make a trip out of it.”
“And where would we go after that? I’m not living in a boarding school.”
“I have a place of my own, thank you very much,” he said, smirking, “it’s not much but it’s mine. It could use a…softer touch, I think.”
You sat up on your elbow. “Yeah?”
“‘M gettin’ old, bubba. Like, obviously not so much physically, but mentally? I’ve seen wars, watched people that I care about die. Walked away when I should’ve stayed.” He threaded his fingers through your free hand. “I’m sayin’ all this to say that, if you’ll have me, I want to stay.”
You hummed, looking down at your joined hands. If tonight proved nothing else, you and Logan were tethered each other for better or worse. There would never be a moment where you wouldn’t think of each other and that scared you. But if you knew nothing else, you knew that you loved him. You loved James Howlett. 
“Will you want to stay? I’m not about to uproot my life just for you to leave me again.”
He pulled you close, putting his forehead to yours. “The worst mistake I’ve ever done is leave you behind Y/N Y/L/N. I should’ve told you that I loved you five years ago.” You gasped. “I love you, bubba, and I regret everyday not that I never told you.”
“Say it again.”
He took your face in his hands and smiled, the peach hue of the sun warming his face. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I’ve loved you for the past six years and I will never stop lovin’ you.”
Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. You wanted him to say these words, waited for them for over half a decade. But they were…heavier than you anticipated. Though your own confession sat on your tongue, too much clung to them; the last fight you had, your mother dying shortly after and how you resented him even more for leaving you alone at a time like that. More than anything you hated that you cared about him so quickly just for him to leave. 
“You don’t have to say it back yet.” Logan smiled some. “Five years is a long time to grieve something.”
You put a hand to his cheek. “You know that I want to, though, don’t you?”
“I know,” he kissed you again, “and we’ll get you there. One day at a time.”
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𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — given the fact that i haven't written in literal months, y'all have no idea how happy i am to have churned this out. happy 2024!
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batrachised · 1 month
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SO.
Dean Priest.
Watching the book trundle its way towards this chapter has been interesting, because as Emily steps into her own voice (although really, she's always had it) - Dean appears. This is going to be a weird analogy, but Dean is kind of like a rotten onion. There are so, so many layers to unpeel there - LM Montgomery seemed to have him as a pet character, he's rife with symbolism and allusion, he's disgusting, he's ominous, he haunts the narrative - but in the end, after all that peeling, you just have a rotten onion. This is my clumsy way of saying my personal opinion (personal! opinion!) is that while looking at Dean, saying "pedophile," and moving on is more than valid, (He is a rotten onion!), there's also key elements to his character that I think are incredibly essential to the book as a whole - specifically, the book's commentary on women writers.
Dean is like the evil version of a kindred spirit. There's some old saying about if you don't listen to your kids, they'll find someone who will, and I think this heavily applies here. It's not lost on me that we get Dean's perspective at length; it feels very significant in a book that, excluding throwaway lines, has Emily's voice front and center - until Dean appears. He's presented as enticing and disturbing all at once - @gogandmagog and @no-where-new-hero had an absolutely brilliant post the other day comparing him to the Big Bad Wolf. Emily seems drawn to and repulsed by him at the same time. He seems to fancy himself as a Rochester, which we can take or leave (I leave lol), and from the beginning, from the very first interaction, he makes clear that he wants to own Emily.
So, if Dean is so awful, why is he presented as appealing at all? I mull over this a lot. The easy explanation is that LMM had no problem with age gaps and grooming, as shown in other stories where she outright endorsed it (unfortunately, it seemed to be a popular trope of the time). But Dean is presented as ominous, and age gaps are criticized, and one minute he's denoted as having "strength, tenderness, and humor," and the next he's flinging "cobweb fetters" over Emily.
I would say (and thank you to @limestreet for the brilliant analysis a few months back, best take on Dean I have ever seen imo), that Dean represents the threat of the patriarchy to women's artistic voices. Of course Dean is appealing - he's a more viable threat to Emily's voice specifically because he's not an Aunt Elizabeth or Uncle Wallace. It's easy enough for her to dismiss them. But Dean quite deliberately enmeshes himself in Emily's life and explicitly (in later books) threatens her writing. Dean is the "it's your writing or me," and he's chillingly effective at making sure to make that a hard choice, when Emily at no other point hesitates to pick her writing, whether when burning her account book, writing on letter bills, risking the wrath of relatives, or any other of the endless hurdles she has to overcome.
Knowing that Dean represents that threat (how women writers often were forced to pick between, one might argue, the 'seduction' of marriage/family and writing), puts a curious light on this passage:
“That’s good. Because you see your life belongs to me henceforth. Since I saved it it’s mine. Never forget that.” Emily felt an odd sensation of rebellion. She didn’t fancy the idea of her life belonging to anybody but herself—not even to anybody she liked as much as she liked Dean Priest. Dean, watching her, saw it and smiled his whimsical smile that always seemed to have so much more in it than mere smiling. “That doesn’t quite suit you? Ah, you see one pays a penalty when one reaches out for something beyond the ordinary. One pays for it in bondage of some kind or other. Take your wonderful aster home and keep it as long as you can. It has cost you your freedom.”
According to Dean, Emily reaching for something out of the ordinary (such as a writing career) must cost her in bondage. And this is where I think of LM Montgomery, miserable in her marriage to a jealous, resentful, unstable husband, LMM for whom Emily was heavily autobiographical, LMM who despite her writing success, had to marry to secure her future. I have never agreed with Dean being Ewen's stand in, but I do think Dean as a character feels pointed.
I'm going to be reblogging past discussions on Dean later so hold onto your hats!
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anjumstar · 25 days
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anjum's bkdk recs 20
Ten more (complete) sfw bkdk fic recs. If you read any of these and enjoy them, lmk! And, more importantly, let the authors know with a comment! Plus, send me your recs, and maybe they’ll make the next list!
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Legend
hyperlinked title by author | word count
Genre warning(s): where relevant Summary/review
💚🧡 = fave
Recs are under the cut, organized by word count, low to high.
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61. notebook by delicate cherry, sobashouto (snowandfire) | 2.3k
romance, general A really short and sweet fic that’s kind of the moments just before bkdk start dating. The boys aren’t quite seeing eye-to-eye, Baku isn’t communicating exactly what he’s feeling, but that’s what makes it feel really in character. They’re not great at this, but they’re just starting to try.
62. Hey, I’m Fine by majjale | 3.2k 💚🧡
angst, romance Angst with a happy ending! I didn’t trust this author, though, haha, I really thought I was about to get staked through the heart. (I don’t always read tags…) Lovely characterization, especially for Deku. It’s tender and domestic meets pro hero life. Love that intersection, as it’s basically all I want for bkdk. Pro hero canonverse action with soft domesticity. Perfect.
63. Diversion Tactic by garbage_dono | 7.5k 💚🧡
romance A cute take on UA bkdk getting together! Feels grounded in canon with good characterization. And it’s somehow fresh in its initiating event, with following gay panic from our beloved Bakugou.
64. Not All Heroes Wear Capes by vulcanhighblood | 11k
romance, fake dating, get together Fake dating fic! Bakugou has the brilliant idea to fake date Deku to get paparazzi off Deku’s back. Maybe not brilliant, lol. The fic has good doses of Baku’s brand of immaturity, it feels age appropriate, and Deku surely has a backbone against Baku’s silly scheme.
65. half drunk, happy by froggenbie | 13.2k
warning: drunk (non-explicit) (bkdk not dkbk) sex romance, get together Bkdk are roommates after graduation, and they start having drunk hookups. Then they’re not so drunk. I knew the writing would be quality right at the beginning of this fic. Sometimes you just know. Bkdk have their horrible communication skills but natural chemistry and deep need for each other and it was a great take on a familiar story.
66. Go Get Your Man, Young Bakugou! by red_sneakers | 16.6k
comedy, romance This one is pretty silly. Not quite crack, because I can kind of believe it for these losers XD They need a bit of help and extra guidance to get together, but it’s nice to see the boys being stupid together while falling in love.
67. Voicemail by raeryn | 20.7k
angst warning: MCD If you wanna cry on the train like I did, read this one. I’ll go ahead and tell you, since it’s clear from early on—Deku is dead and Baku isn’t handling it well. The story is his long journey to reaching some level of closure with some help from his friends. Unhappy ending isn’t usually my fave genre, but idk, this one ends nicely, even if the sad doesn’t fully go away.
68. Walls I Didn’t Know I Had by Elisa Jaded | 21.5k
hurt/comfort, romance Post-war, Katsuki wakes up from his injuries to find that Deku isn’t in the shelter with everyone else. Turns out he’s somewhere else, in desperate need of Baku’s support. They find happiness again together, good balance of realistic angst to romance!
69. Healing Pains by lurethegalaxy | 23.2k
romance Pining Bakugou and oblivious Deku is such a delicious flavor. Bakugou having done some level of emotional work on himself—but still being constipated to heck and gone—while Deku just avoids avoids avoids feels so correct to me. I liked living in that take with a fic recent enough that it feels really grounded in what the directly post-war aftermath would have felt like.
70. The Night We Met by majjale | 37.3k
angst, adventure, romance Another painful one. Baku is immortal and Deku keeps dying. AU. Now, you know I hate AUs, (and I had the same issues here I always do, tbh…) but the prose is magnificent. I wish I’d been highlighting as I read. Even if I imagine these as OCs, it’s worth the read because of the writing quality. The brief, cryptic author’s notes add to it. If you’re okay with a pretty heavy dose of angst, please give it a go. (I linked the series, as there are 2 very short sequels)
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more recs can be found here 💚🧡
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dilucpainsme · 3 months
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StarStruck (Diluc X Reader) (Movie star/actor au)
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Ahhh, this is really rough and my firs time posting something just for tumblr. When I mean rough, its like only been looked over a few times. Anyway I like the idea of Diluc cheating on Jean lol, he's a little out of character but whatevess
TW: Cheating, Smut, affairs (?)
Words: 10950
A female walked onto a busy set that had just finished being built. Busy workers and extra’s being pointed around in different directions. The (h/l) (h/c) haired girl stopped and looked around. She was dressed in some casual clothing, sunglasses covering her eyes. The girl was a bit lost, and honestly kinda confused as to where she should be. This wasn’t her first time on a movie set, but it was a huge lot with a ton of different places, and trailers. She lifted her sunglasses up and placed them on top of her head, glancing down at her phone to see the text from her manager. 
“(Y/n)  (l/n)! I haven’t seen you since you were a newbie!” The female named (Y/n) twirled around to see a short woman, with white and blue pastel hair. Her bright eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Furina!” The girl happily called out for her old friend while walking towards her. 
“How are you? You’ve gotten so much taller, oh my gosh are you wearing Dior!?” (Y/n) laughed and dismissed her friend. “I’m doing well, where is Neuvillette? Is he here directing the movie or are you?” The whole reason the female was even here was to act in the new romance movie Furina had recently written. It was supposed to be a box office hit and she had personally been asked by her old friend to play the lead female protagonist. It was only fitting for her, after all, the writer was the reason (Y/n) even got into the acting scene.  
“Oh yes! He is on the main set speaking with Diluc Ragnvindr. Do you know him?” She shook her head and started to follow Furina as she began walking. The woman didn’t know much about the movie, only that it was a romance, and if this one did well like everyone was predicting then there would be a series to follow. She was hopeful it was going to go well because she cleared her schedule for the next few months just for this role. 
“Uhm, not really. I mean I know of him, we’ve spoken once or twice before at events but other than that we aren’t friends or anything.” Furina nodded her head and opened a door to one of the stages, and inside it was filled with people. But even so, she could see the tall man with striking white hair and his classic dark black cane in hand. She waved a bit trying to catch his eye, and he just waved back to her along with a man next to him. She could tell it was Diluc from the striking red hair and matching fiery eyes. 
He was well known in most action movies, his most famous one being the ‘Dark Knight Hero’. He wasn’t a romance or rom-com type actor so she was kind of worried about how they would get along, but she kept that thought to herself for now. She kept following Furina, and people cleared a path for them as they walked through the building. On their way over few people said hi to (Y/n) and she just smiled at them, giving a few familiar faces a wave.
It only took a minute or so to reach the main set and finally catch up with the two men. “Diluc, this is my dear friend (Y/n). She is going to be your co-star for a couple of months!”
He held his hand out, hardly any smile on his face as he spoke. “Hello, I think we’ve meant a few times at red carpet events.” The female gave him a small smile and nodded her head, reaching to accept his handshake. “Yeah, I’m usually around Kaeya and Tartaglia.” He made a humming sound and looked down at the script Neuvillette handed him a bit ago. 
The man wasn’t exactly keen on any of his brother's friends but if he was going to be working with her, they might as well get along with one another. This type of movie also wasn’t his scene, but his fiance Jean was begging him to try new things lately. So when Furina asked him to be in her movie he was pretty much forced to say yes. He liked acting, it was all he wanted to do when he was younger, following in his father's footsteps, but, his father was more of a crime, and science fiction actor. He preferred action-packed movies, and occasionally if the pay was good horror. Not petty-filled drama stuff. But here he was, with the contract already signed. 
The girl across from him seemed to know Furina and Neuvillette already, and he recalled her face from some movies that Jean and Lisa would watch. She was a decently talented actor, more known for her singing career but still good at her work. He figured they would get along fine, besides the fact that she was friends with Kaeya. 
(Y/n) on the other hand, was excited to start working, she wasn’t sure if he would live up to her expectations and that made her nervous but she could only hope they would be a fit for each other. Even if the man seemed to be a bit standoffish she would have fun, and hopefully gain a new friend during this whole thing. 
—-
“Alright, you two, this scene is very important. It’s both of your character's first time speaking to one another, both of them very unhappy with the situation they are in. A princess being married off against her will, the knight is forced to keep guard over a bratty princess! It’s-” 
“Furina we got it.” (Y/n) laughed a little trying to keep her smiles hidden behind the script in her hand, Diluc beside her rolling his eyes. It was the second week of filming and they had done most of their solo scenes at this point. It was now time for them to start working together on screen. They were on a tight schedule with the production team trying to get teasers for the movie released as soon as possible. It was a fantasy movie about a princess and a knight, but knowing Furina it had to have some sort of dramatic plot twist in it. So with all the interviews she was doing, teasing and almost spoiling the damn thing, everyone wanted to wrap up filming as soon as they could before the woman said something. 
“Good, then get to it!” She turned the two around and shoved them back onto the set, the female nearly tripping in her long dress. “Places-And action!” 
(Y/n) took her place sitting on the fake stone wall, pretending to look down at the ‘scenery’ below her. Diluc also took his place, a bit off the scene, as he needed to walk in during the start of the shot. The camera started rolling, and the two began to talk to one another. While they were filming a woman walked up to the sidelines beside Furina. She looked down at the short woman and whispered. “How’s he doing?” The white-haired girl looked up to see Jean, Diluc’s fiance smiling at her. 
“So far so good! His acting is amazing for someone who hates romance.” The blonde snickered and watched the two go on. 
The princess turned her head as she heard someone approach her, the woman's eyes scanning the garden walls behind. She sighed as she saw the knight that was made to follow her around. “I wasn’t going to jump if that’s what you think.” Her voice held a tone of annoyance to it as she spoke. The man cleared his throat and stood there, his eyes looking up to the high wall, slowly rolling them at the princess’s ignorance. 
“I assumed that wasn’t your intention, but if I may so boldly ask. What are you doing up there my lady?” 
Furina bit her nails and smiled, excited to see her work coming to life. The two worked together effortlessly, as if this wasn’t the first movie they shot together. Jean was even a bit impressed seeing her soon-to-be husband doing so well in this kind of movie. It took a couple more calls, and a few more takes to get the whole scene finished up but it went rather quickly. She called it quits for the night and they had managed to get a decent chunk done today. The blue-eyed woman excitedly told everyone to get some rest and that she would see them all tomorrow, at the same time. 
(Y/n) sighed in relief and immediately took the annoyingly heavy crown off her head, handing it to one of the assistants, and thanked them. She loved fantasy movies but man she hated the costumes. They were always so bulky and tight. She just couldn’t stand to be in them. The girl walked over to the vanity near the costumes and started to take off a few more pieces of her costume, the gloves, the jewelry, and hair clips. She couldn’t wait to take the makeup off as well, set makeup was always so cakey. 
“Hi, (Y/n) right?” The female looked over to see a blonde girl that looked vaguely familiar. Once she came closer it clicked in her brain where she knew her from. Her name was Jean, and she was a model in some fashion magazines, and most importantly Diluc’s fiance. “Yea! You’re Jean, like from the modeling magazines I see all the time?” The blue-eyed woman nodded laughing a bit. 
“I just wanted to come introduce myself, I’ve seen most of your work and I’m kind of a fan.” The girl felt her face heat up and she brushed some hair out of her face. “Oh really? That means a lot to me thank you!” Her voice perked up and she was incredibly grateful to get such a compliment from such a well-known figure in the industry. 
“I was wondering if you wanted to join me and my fiance for dinner tonight? I would love to chat more about your work, and it would be a better chance for Diluc to get to know you. I mean the movie has some pretty intense scenes.” 
“Of course! I would love to.”
After that dinner, (Y/n) could see her and Diluc getting along better. Not that they fought or anything before but they started to talk off-set and in between breaks. Like today, during lunch, the two decided to grab a bite at the Cat’s tail. They each went over their scripts looking at the next scene they were doing later. “Furina is going to kill us with this.” The girl wanted to smack her head on the table.
“It’s sort of–” He cleared his throat. “Raunchy?” (Y/n) finished the sentence for him. 
“Yes, that.” Diluc gave her a small smile and she just laughed. “Okay putting work aside how’s the wedding planning going with Jean?” The question wasn’t something Diluc hadn’t heard often as of lately. It’s all anyone was asking him. Jean was the one planning most, if not all of the wedding because of the movie. She told him over and over again she didn’t mind doing it but he felt bad. He knew how long she had been dreaming of their wedding. The two of them were high school sweethearts after all, and it drove the media crazy. He wished he could do more for her. 
“Can I be honest with you?” (Y/n) nodded her head. “I don’t know, Jean is planning it, I’ve been preoccupied with the movie. I want to help more, but when I get home I just drop onto my bed.” He frowned and took a bite of his food, glancing down at his phone. The two didn’t live together either, so it made it that much harder. 
“That sucks. I mean we're already one month into filming we only have like, what, two left? Then you can focus on helping her more.” She gave him a small smile and grabbed her script once again. She flipped through the pages figuring out how she would keep a straight face saying half these lines. 
“What about you? How is your current dating life going?” (Y/n) froze a bit, her eyes lifting to look at the redhead across from her. “Huh?” The question caught her off guard. Her dating life was never in the news, because it was non-existent. It was a fair question though, she had technically asked about his, so he was doing the same thing. But besides that, her dating life was dry, dry as a bone. The media only ever spoke about her when she had done something to change her appearance and picked her apart for that. 
“Oh, I don’t date.” She looked back down at her script, trying to hide the red spreading across her face. It was a little embarrassing to say that at her age she didn’t date or even hook up with people. “You don’t date? But you do romance movies?” She nodded her head. 
“Well, I find it easier, if I date someone who doesn’t like my choice in movie roles then there is a problem. If I don’t date then I don’t have to worry about it. Plus I’ve never had a boyfriend so I wouldn’t know where to start.” Diluc raised a brow at the female. The girl across from his had never even considered dating it. Which made him see her differently for some reason. It wasn’t bad but that was just an interesting part of her he didn’t expect. Maybe that was why she liked doing romance movies, it gave her a taste of dating but without actually doing it. 
“I see, so that’s why you don’t attend any events with a partner.” She glanced up again and glared at him. “Hey, I go with friends.” 
“You’re friends being known to hook up with anything that breathes.” 
“That’s only Kaeya, Alhaitham is dating Kaveh. Oh shit don’t tell anyone that.” She covered her mouth with her hand looking wide-eyed at the man in front of her. Diluc chuckled and nodded his head. “I won’t, but we should get back soon.” 
—-
“Furina!” (Y/n) stormed the woman’s trailer, her arms flailing around with the script in her hand. “Hey, (Y/n)! What’s up?” She smiled innocently and scrolled on her phone as if she didn’t have a clue as to why the actor was barging in her trailer. 
“When did you add a sex scene to the movie?” 
“Well the investors wanted to make it an R-rated movie so I had to throw something in there, plus Diluc doesn’t mind, and neither does Jean.” Her eyes never left her phone screen. It didn’t bother her that she had a sex scene, she had done plenty of those in her career so far. It was the fact it was with Diluc. The more time she spent with him, the more she started to like him. It wasn’t even in a cute schoolgirl way. He was so hot, and his personality made him even more attractive. The idea of an R-rated scene with him made her head spin.
(Y/n) sighed and after their very short conversation left the trailer starting to make her way back to set. They still had quite a bit to shoot today and it wasn’t even lunch yet. She was already tired from yesterday because they had stayed later than they all wanted to due to the timeline being shortened even more. 
On top of her current workload, she was in the news for a rumor spreading about her and Diluc. Jean would make light of it and joke but (Y/n) didn’t want anything to make it awkward between her and Diluc. Plus it was a rule she had made when she first started, she didn’t date. Plus the homewrecker label wasn’t something she wanted attached to her either.
She carried herself to the set, then fixed up her hair and makeup as the crew rushed her over to the stage. Neuvillette was the director for today, and he wasn’t as fun as Furina, but he got stuff done that was for sure. So once she was there and ready he started rolling the camera. 
The princess was pushed into the corner, her knight being the one to move her there. She was trapped between his arms, their faces just inches away. She could hear him panting as he tried to hold himself back, in fear he would do something they would both regret. The two were hiding from the wondering maids around the castle, for if they heard they would surely gossip about their affair to the King. “We can’t keep doing this,” She muttered her eyes trying to avoid his. “You don’t love him, why do you feel so wrong about this? The king doesn’t respect you,” 
“Because I am to be wed to him in the next few days if anyone catches us he will surely have you killed.” She turned her gaze back to his. Her whole body tensed under his stare, and she couldn’t help but lean forward. “I couldn’t bear to see you suffer such a fate,” 
“Cut! Come on this is supposed to be a tense moment between you two.” Diluc and (Y/n) turned their heads to see Furina entering the room, a scowl on her face. Everyone sighed and stopped what they were doing. The woman wasn’t even supposed to be on set right now. “I want his hands all over you, pulling you close. Not just staying in one spot!” The woman started barking orders at the two, both of them rolling their eyes in unison. 
“Diluc I know this is your first romance but come on you should feel the passion between the two.” The redhead sighed and removed his hands from their place, moving them to cross over his chest. He frowned at Furina. (Y/n) just huffed and ran a hand through her hair. She was already annoyed from the heat, and how much she was sweating in the tight corset undeath her bulky dress.
 “What exactly are you wanting from us Furina?” The actress leaned against the wall she had just been pressed against moments ago. 
“Passion! Lust! Something this is just stale! Now let's go again!” She twirled her finger in the air, signaling for everyone to start over. 
The man moved his hands, to the female's waist and pulled her close to him, their bodies flushed against one another. “I can’t let you fall into his hands, the King is no good for you,” The knight's free hand moved to grab her chin, gently pulling her face towards his. “My love I would go to the ends of the earth for you-”
Furina was mouthing the words that Diluc was speaking, her hands placed on her chest as she watched the two. This was exactly what she was wanting, she could see the heat between the two, the lust growing. Or really what was happening (Y/n)’s brain trying to process how close Diluc was to her, and how he was touching her so gently. 
The gap between the two closed, as the knight pressed their lips together. The hand that was cupping her face now moved to her shoulder and traced down her body. The action left goosebumps on the girl’s skin as he crept further down to her waist, now having both of his hands grip so tightly. The princess tangling her hands into his long hair, pulling ever so slightly. She gasped between every frantic kiss he gave her, trying her best to keep quiet in the echoing hallways. 
It didn’t take too long to get what Furina wanted. A full makeout scene in a dark-lit castle. The woman was ecstatic and once ‘cut’ was called the two slowly pulled apart from each other. Everyone else too excited with the shot they just captured to notice either of the actors. The couple stared at one another, panting breathlessly. (Y/n) felt her face bloom with a red color and she cleared her throat. “Good job, uhm I’m going to head back- uhm- goodnight.” She excused herself from the set and fled the room her brain spinning. Diluc on the other hand stood there a bit dazed not sure how he felt. He had kissed people before for movies but this was-it was different. It wasn’t even (Y/n) taking the lead in that, it was all him and he was very confused with his feelings at the moment. 
The man turned to Furina. “Is that it for the day?” Neuvillette nodded his head and went back to talking with his coworker. 
Once (Y/n) had reached her trailer she locked the door and pressed her back against the wall. She had a hand tangled in her hair, her other hand placed over her beating heart. What the hell was that? She had made out with plenty of people on set for a movie but this was-this was something else entirely. Maybe Diluc didn’t realize how intense he was. He was pressing against her so hard, and the way his lips felt on hers-
She shook her head. He was getting married, it was for the movie. That’s all. They weren’t even that close. They were possibly friends. They went out for lunch and hung out after filming sometimes but that's it. It was for the romance effect, he didn’t see her like that. Even if she secretly wished he would. 
—-
(Y/n) was in her trailer, scrolling through her phone. It was her hour break and she intended to take every second of it she could. They had to shoot so many scenes outside in the heat today. It was so hot, almost 100 degrees out. The California heat trying to take out everyone on set. A knock on her door caught her attention and she told whoever it was to come in. The door opened and she saw the familiar red hair. 
“Hey ‘Luc.” She greeted him and kept her body on the sofa. The fan was on full blast as she relaxed in her tank top and shorts, one headphone in her ear, and she tapped her fingers to the beat of the music. (Y/n) was grateful to be out of that heavy, stuffy dress that Furina insisted she wore and finally in a cool room, where she could just get a second of rest. 
“I barely managed to escape that insufferable woman,” Diluc mumbled while tossing his jacket off, then lifted the woman’s leg and plopped himself down on the sofa. She moved her legs to the spot where they rested before, so they were draped across his lap. “She let you out of your costume as well?” Her eyes looked up from the device in her hand. 
“Neuvillette did.” (Y/n) laughed a little and put her phone down, grabbing a hair tie off her wrist and handing it to Diluc. He thanked her and grabbed it, putting his hair in a high ponytail, not caring if Furina would chew him out later for messing up his hair. It had been a good bit of time since they started filming and the two of them were getting rather close. They were attached at the hip when they weren’t on set. The media going wild with allegations, and the friend group laughing at them all. 
“One more month of this and then we can finally be done.” He muttered and leaned his head back, feeling the cool fan hit his boiling skin. The redhead had changed into a tank top himself and some cool sweatpants. He was always in that stupid knight costume when he wasn’t in some comfortable clothing. Furina’s orders of course. 
“Aw come on, you aren’t going to miss me when this is all over?” (Y/n) lifted her head and gave him a teasing smile. “We can still hang out after this, you know that.” She laughed and sat up, removing her legs from his lap. 
“I was comfortable.” He closed his eyes, a frown settling on his face as his friend removed herself. She shrugged her shoulders and walked over to her vanity, tossing her phone on the desk, along with her earbuds.
“Don’t we have to film that cheesy ass sex scene later this week?” The girl had been thinking about it since Furina added it to the script. It was constantly on her mind, it was such an intense scene, not that it would bother her—But the idea of doing something like that with Diluc while she had all these pent-up feelings growing for him. All that she knew was wrong. He was so much fun to be around, he made being out in the heat for hours a day worthwhile. Under that stone-cold demeanor, he was just a soft, funny guy. Furina was tormenting her. 
Even if she felt the way she did, the woman needed to be professional about it. So she would bring it up with Diluc now, instead of the day before. To get any of the weirdness out of the way of course. 
“I think, why?” 
“You aren’t uncomfortable with it or anything are you?” She took her seat back, but this time sitting next to the man and leaning her head against his shoulder. The two of them had gotten pretty comfortable with physical touch at this point during shooting. They were pretty up close and personal every day, hands-on with one another, whether it be for filming or helping each other fix their costumes. So they just naturally began to lean on one another. She had grown pretty fond of her friend and because of that, she didn’t want any weird sex scene to ruin what they had.
“Not really, the movies I’ve been in have a lot of sex in them,” He rolled his eyes at the thought. Jean always teased him about, how the women were always so nervous to film them and how Diluc looked like he would rather be anywhere else in between shots. This time she didn’t pick on him too much, but he didn’t find it weird she was probably too busy with her own things to annoy him. There were a lot of weird things going on with Jean at the moment if he thought about it. 
“Okay so then you’re all good?”
“I’ll be fine but what about you? I figured you would have filmed one before.” He peeked open an eye and looked down at her, “I have, I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it.” The redhead nodded and closed his eyes again, throwing an arm lazily around his friend. When he first started filming the movie with her he was weary of the girl. She was bubbly and friendly and never stopped talking. He was the exact opposite of that, so he didn’t think they would get along too well. Then Jean invited her to dinner with them and once they got to talking they found out how much they had in common. From the literature they read to the music they listened to. Their views on the world in general seemed to line up.
He enjoyed having conversations with her, ones that weren’t shallow and meaningless. For once he could talk about stuff that didn’t involve acting and fame. That didn’t revolve around his career and the industry. It was, well, refreshing. He enjoyed being around her, spending time with her felt like a break from everything else in his life. 
“It won’t be awkward if that’s what you’re thinking,” (Y/n) nodded weakly and leaned into his touch. Her mind drifted back to that kiss they shared while filming a few weeks ago. The memory gave her butterflies and she felt the heat rise to her face again. The two of them hadn’t discussed it since, they just went about their normal routine pretending like it wasn’t anything special. Even if she wanted it to be. Like right now, she was so close to Diluc, and he was so comfortable with it. It probably meant nothing to him but to her, it meant a lot. She wanted to ask him about that day on set yet the fear of destroying their friendship stopped her. It was probably all in her head, he was getting married for fucks sake. 
“I didn’t think it would be,” 
“Did Furina mention that dinner to you this weekend? I think we’re supposed to meet with the production team to set up interviews.” Diluc was still in his spot, unmoving as he talked. (Y/n) just couldn’t help but stare at him, how he was so relaxed around her, how he didn’t mind the close contact. But her heart was aching thinking how this could all mean nothing to him and she could just be crazy. 
“I need to ask you something.” The words blurted out of her mouth, ignoring Diluc’s previous sentence. She wasn’t even sure what she was going to say, or how to even explain it—But when she said those words, her tone must have worried the man because he instantly sat up his eyes opening. “Is everything okay?” He removed his arm from around her and gave a concerned look.
“I’m not sure, I just-I just wanted to ask you about a few weeks ago.” She looked over at the clock on her wall. They still had about 45 minutes left til they had to be back in costume on set. “We had that intense makeout scene and it was-”
“It was kinda different than what I usually experience, I mean it’s your first romance movie so I know you probably aren’t too sure what you’re doing. I just didn’t want to keep thinking these silly thoughts that it wasn’t just for the movie that you-” As she was trying to get out the word vomit in her brain she felt Diluc move. Then suddenly his lips were mashed on hers. The girl’s heart skipped a beat as she felt his body move, and pull her closer to him. Her mind grew clouded and a dizzy feeling swept over her. It was different than the scripted kisses she had, but so similar to that one moment on set when he kissed her. She couldn’t relax in his touch, her whole body was tense as the voice in the back of her brain screamed at her to pull away. 
But she didn’t have to, he did that for her. He pulled away as quickly as he kissed her. His eyes darkened and he looked so confused himself. “I’m sorry, I have no idea why I did that.” Diluc glanced up at her, seeing her red face. But he saw more than the blush spreading across her cheeks. He couldn’t help but stare at her bright (e/c) eyes, and how they seemed to shine in the light, the way she bit her bottom lip with so much anxiety. He just couldn’t help it. But she was so quiet and stared at him with such a look he couldn’t place. 
“I’m, sorry, I should get going now.” He stood up, trying to leave before he could do any more damage, but he stopped in his tracks, feeling his wrist being pulled. He turned his head to see her still sitting down, her head tilted up “Don’t.” Her pleading eyes begged him to stay. “You don’t have to,” She gripped his wrist tighter and tugged on him a bit more. He’ll be damned if he walked out now.
He moved to sit on the sofa, her hand still holding his wrist so tightly, and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t resist the urge. The minute she was face to face with him, he threw all of fucks out the window. Diluc pulled her towards him, so she was now sitting on his lap straddling him. He pressed his lips against hers again and felt her hands grip his shoulders so tightly, her nails digging into his skin. He was intoxicated with her. They were always so close on set but with just the two of them, it felt so different. He could smell the sweet perfume she wore, and taste the strawberry chapstick she would use often. It was a different experience. One he wanted more of. 
His hands started to move up her arms and down her back, just barely gripping her waist, and he pulled her tighter against his body, getting a small mewl out of her. She was sweet and addicting like this.
 Her body was starting to relax under his touch, and with each passing second, she felt herself start to melt the more he touched her. His hands moved to cup her ass and grind against her. Her head rested against his shoulder, trying to hide the embarrassing blush on her face, and the sounds she tried to choke down.
Even if her head was fuzzy, and her body was growing hot, she knew she couldn’t do this. He was engaged. To a very sweet woman. A sweet woman who trusted her a lot, and made her one of her bridesmaids. Suddenly she snapped back to her senses. What was she doing? She was being a home wrecker. “Diluc-mm-wait we can’t-” She tried to get the words out between each gasp, and it was so hard to as each time she spoke, he would grab her waist, and gently rock her body against his. God, it was so hard to stop. “You’re engaged I shouldn’t have-” He paused his actions, his hand leaving her waist, and moving to grab her chin making her face him.
He pressed a kiss against her lips before he spoke.“Who’s gonna know?” The man wasn’t wrong. Who would know? She felt him grab her thighs, and his lips were back at it again. She started to forget about the issue she was so concerned about moments ago as she felt Diluc bite her bottom lip.--The action making her part hers just slightly. Enough for him to slip his tongue in. The movement from before resumed as they grinded against one another. 
The redhead grabbed at the ends of her shirt and tugged at the fabric trying to remove it from her body. They pulled apart for a moment, and she left her arms as he took the item off her, tossing it somewhere on the ground. His hands immediately explored the exposed skin. His gaze on her body was so intense, she had to turn her head away. “Stop staring,” The words came out in a mumble. 
“You’re acting as if this is the first time I've seen you in a bra.” He laughed a little, and moved his lips to her neck, placing gentle kisses as he went down her chest. 
He had seen her like this, a few times on set during some scenes. She wasn’t embarrassed then because it was all scripted, this was different. 
He finally reached near her breast and stopped, gently nipping at her skin there. She let out another sound, cursing at herself. “Diluc we don’t have enough time for this,” Even if she wanted to keep going, they had to be back soon. 
We have 30 minutes that's enough for a-” 
“I’m a virgin.” The words left her mouth suddenly and her eyes still looked away from Diluc. She was embarrassed about it, and as much as she wanted to despite her conscious yelling at her not to, she didn’t want her first time to be a quickie. 
That was enough to make the redhead freeze and pull away from her. His hands dropped from her breast to her thighs, thumbing over them softly as he chuckled to himself. He found it kind of ironic that the romance actor was a virgin. He wasn’t judging but it was just a little funny to him. But it also let him realize what the two could have done. “Don’t laugh! I told you I’ve never dated!” She buried her head in the crook of his, her body resting against his. 
“I’m not laughing at you. I promise I’m sorry I didn’t know.” A knock at the door made them both turn their heads and stop. “(Y/n), we need you on set early! I know this is your break but-” The door was about to open and the female jumped from her spot and ran to the door. Just barely catching it before it could fully open to reveal Diluc in the room. Furina was on the other side, a brow raised as she looked at the actress. 
“What are you doing?” She asked looking her up and down. The female was panting and dressed in her bra and shorts.
“It’s really hot out there okay, anyways I’m getting dressed I’ll be out in a minute.” Furina sighed and spun around, telling her to find Diluc and drag him back out as well. (Y/n) took a deep breath and shut the door, her eyes turning to the redhead on the sofa. 
“This never happened got it?” 
“Never happened.” 
—-
(Y/n) sat in her chair on set, glasses covering her eyes, as she tried her best not to fall asleep. She was watching the actors in front of her go through their scenes. The man playing the king shooting his big reveal, with a few of the other main characters in the movie, joining in on the big plot twist. She sighed and fanned herself with a magazine, it was beyond hot, even for it being dark out–she was still burning up. So Furina the wonderful director she was, let the girl dress down into her tank top and shorts. As she was dying in the heat, some type of commotion faintly behind her caught her attention. She turned to see Diluc in his day clothes walking away from a furious Jean. It seemed like they were arguing about something. The blonde was holding a planner in her hand, and pointing to it. 
“You can’t be serious right now? You aren’t going to help me in the slightest?” Diluc sighed heavily and glared at his partner. “Jean you got everything under control, this movie is my main priority.” His red eyes glanced ahead to see (Y/n) eyeing the two of them, and he looked away quickly. The movie wasn’t his main priority, she was. (Y/n) had consumed his mind ever since that moment in the trailer. It was all he could think about, her body, her voice, her laugh. It consumed him so much that whenever Jean did anything it got on his nerves. Everything she did was annoying him—especially the wedding planning. Every time he went back to her place she just wanted to talk about the wedding, and the guest list, and the food. Suddenly he didn’t care for any of it. 
So Jean picked up on that within the first night and instead tried other things to do with him. Movies, dates, shopping trips. It all seemed like that annoyed him even more. Then she thought maybe he was stressed and needed to blow off steam so she tried to have sex with him and it just–He wasn’t up for it. All he could think about was his co-star. And if Diluc wouldn’t talk to her about at home then she would fight him at work, trying to figure out what his issue was. Why he was so mean to her? 
“Diluc I swear if you don’t knock your shit off I’m calling off the wedding.” 
“I’m at work can we talk about this later?” The blonde stormed off flipping him off as she walked away. His gaze returned to the girl watching him from the set. She gave him a pity smile and then frowned. He just waved to her and walked off, she supposed to his trailer. “Hey, Furina can I go for the night?” 
“Hm? Yea! Your scenes are done for the day, but tomorrow, phew, you have a heated day.” She shot the actress a wink, and (Y/n) just rolled her eyes. She left her magazine behind and started to make her way to her friend's trailer but-
“(Y/n) can we talk?” Her head spun to see Jean approaching her. She swallowed thickly and nodded. God if she suspected anything, then she was done for. She had never done anything like this before, all her other co-stars weren’t like Diluc. She didn’t know what was different about him. His looks were great sure but it was so much more than that. Like how his laugh was so enchanting and his rare smile made her heart flutter, or how they could talk for hours about anything. 
“And I have no idea what’s going on with him, but do you think you could talk to him?” The girl snapped back and looked at Jean wide-eyed. What did she say? “What? You want me to-” 
“Check on him, you two get along so well and he can get so in his head. I trust you so let me know what’s up okay? I’m heading home, send him my way when you're done here.” Oh god, she was a horrible person. The female just nodded her head. “Of course, I’ll text you.” Jean smiled and hugged her, thanking her for being such a good friend. (Y/n) was going to throw up. So once the woman left, she looked over to the trailer at the back of the lot and started to make her way over. 
She didn’t even knock as she entered the trailer. She scanned the freezing room for the man, and instantly spotted him in the back, laying face down on the mattress. The lights were off, and Diluc was well hidden in his sheets, but (Y/n) could spot his striking red hair from anywhere. She sighed, walking over to his bed, and crawling onto the plush surface next to him. 
“You’re not getting along?” The words came out as a mumble. “We are not getting along.” The two were lying in opposite directions of each other, staring at the wall. The moment they shared in her trailer earlier this week wasn’t a one-off thing. It seemed every time they were left alone, whether that be on set or in their private dressing rooms, they were on top of one another. It was getting to a boiling point where (Y/n) couldn’t take anymore. She was so fucking pent-up. 
“Is it because of me?” 
“Not exactly,” He glanced over at the female who had a worried look in her eyes. “It’s more than that. We’ve been drifting apart for a while.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“It’s not your fault.” Diluc turned his body to face (Y/n), but she was still looking away from him. He lazily threw his arm around her torso and pulled her close, burying his face in the back of her neck. She relaxed in his hold, even if she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of Jean. She had asked her to talk to him, not fuck him. But he was here, so close to her, and she couldn’t help it. She was falling hard for the man.
“She asked me to talk to you, try and make you work it out with her, but I don’t want to.” (Y/n) wanted him for herself, she had never felt this way about anyone. He had taken her heart, and she didn’t mind it. 
“Even if I don’t want you to, you should fix things.” She turned her body to face him, his red eyes piercing her (e/c) ones. Her heart started to beat rapidly as they stared at one another, basking in each other's hold. “I don’t care to,” 
“Diluc, this is wrong and you know that,” 
“You could put a stop to it, but you don’t.” She groaned and lightly bonked her forehead against his. He just gave her a weak laugh and pressed a kiss against her lips. “Because every time I tell you we shouldn’t do this, you do that.” They hadn’t gone much farther than a heated makeout session, and feeling each other up–the girl being way too shy to do more. She especially didn’t want her first time to be in a trailer at work. 
She got a weak hum out of him and he smirked a bit. “Do you wanna get out of here?” Her body froze. “To where?” 
“My place?” She swallowed thickly and blinked a few times. She would be completely alone with Diluc, nobody to interrupt them. If she was at his place she might cave and take things way farther with him. But as much as she knew she shouldn’t she agreed. 
(Y/n) threw her shirt off as Diluc kissed her relentlessly, his hands roaming every part of her body that he could get it. Tugging her pants off as she fell back onto the bed, their lips being apart for only seconds. His tongue already found its way into her mouth, teeth clanking at the fast-paced movements. They couldn’t help it, the moment they got into his house they were on top of one another, the tension from the week building up. She wanted Diluc so badly, and even if she knew the amount of shit this would cause, she would do it. The man didn’t seem like he cared either, his hands finding the clasps of her bra and undoing it. 
She grabbed his shirt and tugged at it signaling she wanted it to come off. The man did as she wanted, and (Y/n) began to shrug off her bra throwing it onto the floor, her hands going back on Diluc’s body. Her fingers gripped the waist band of his pants, pulling him towards her. She gasped as she felt his hard-on press against her. The girl was about to open her mouth to speak but the two froze as they heard her phone ring. She groaned and reached for it, Diluc wanted to stop her but she had already grabbed the damn thing. 
“It’s Jean.” 
“Answer it,” 
“Are you crazy? Hey no-” The man grabbed the phone from her and pressed the green button, handing it back. She glared at him, as she watched him lower himself, pulling her panties off as the phone was pressed against her ear. “Hey, what's up?” She was about to lift her head to see what the idiot was doing but she instantly tensed up at the feeling of something wet licking her clit. It took everything in her to not moan. 
“Did you talk to Diluc? His phone is off and I’m worried about him.” Her voice was filled with concern and she sounded like she was driving. “Mm-Mhm! Yea I-uh” She covered her mouth and pulled the phone away. Her back arched as felt him swipe his tongue over her clit again, but he slowed pace this time, teasing her so she would make more sounds. More sounds that only he got to hear. “Are you okay?” Jean’s voice brought her back and she panted for a second. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m working out right now. I needed to get my cardio in.” She laughed a little but stopped when she felt her partner insert a finger inside of her. One of her hands grabbed his red locks, and tugged at them slightly, rocking her hips against him. She could hear him laugh as he went on with his current task, curling his fingers inside of her. The way she was choking back her cute moans, and gasp. The woman was barely keeping herself together at this point and he didn’t even care if Jean heard the two of them. This was the most fun he has had in a while. He couldn’t help but stare at her, seeing the phone pressed against her ear, her hip eagerly bucking towards him begging for more. 
“But yeah, I uhm talked to him before I left, he said-fuck.” She swore as Diluc pumped another finger inside of her. “What’s wrong?” 
“He was upset, and told me he didn’t want to talk.” She couldn’t keep this up for much longer, she wanted so much more of the man, this wasn’t enough. “Was he rude to you?” The blonde’s voice held sympathy for her, knowing how cold he could be when he was upset.
“Yeah, I just let him be.” 
“I should go see him, I’m on my way already.” (Y/n) lifted her head and looked at Diluc who didn’t pay any mind to the girl and kept his pace playing with her sensitive bundle of nerves. 
“I wouldn’t do that, he-ah shit-uhm wanted to be alone. I need to go just don’t trust me.” (Y/n) hung up the phone and tossed the device on the bed and let out a string of curses at the man. 
“You idiot she’s on her way here-fuck Diluc please-” 
“She doesn’t have a key, it's fine.”  
The girl just sighed and grabbed his arm tugging him close to her. He hovered above her, his arms resting on the mattress. “Do you want to go any farther?” She nodded her head. If she didn’t get more of this man, she would go crazy. “I don’t know how to do anything though.” 
“I’ll take care of it, just relax.” 
—-
It was the final week of filming and the affair that (Y/n) had with Diluc was going to end. She couldn’t keep doing this to her friend. Jean had trusted her so much and went to her to vent about Diluc and she just couldn’t help but feel terrible. As she should though. Even if she had was more than just lust, even if she felt something more for the man, it had to be over. They had already filmed the rated R scene and everyone was surprised at how well they got through it, like it was no big deal. It shocked even Jean a little bit, mainly because the girl was telling her how nervous she was to film it. But when the time came the two got through it as if they had done it before 
(Y/n) huffed in her chair and looked at Furina giving a speech to all of the cast members. Most of the scenes were done and Diluc was no longer needed. She wasn’t really either, but the two stayed just in case something came up. Her eyes looked around the room, and she could see her co-star near the back, once again fighting with his fiance. The two angrily whispering to one another. She just frowned and looked away. They were always butting heads about something, whenever the woman was on set Diluc was miserable. Even if he would tell (Y/n) how badly he wanted to end it, he didn’t The wedding date was set for next year and the plans were put in place. Everyone he knew had already been informed and Jean was getting new gigs because of it. 
Internally she was screaming, begging Diluc to just leave the woman, and let himself be happy. Yet if he didn’t and this was it then she had to live with that. “So, thank you everyone for being a part of this movie! The curtain will soon be closing!” The female took a bow, and everyone clapped. (Y/n) lazily moved her hands together, unaware of the person sneaking up behind her. Then without warning, someone placed their hands on the girl’s shoulders and she let out a screech. Her loud yelping sound caught everyone’s attention but most importantly Diluc’s. But the laughing sound that followed calmed everyone down. 
The (h/c) haired girl whipped her head around to see the cackling man behind her. An angry expression started to form on her face as she glared at the dark-haired man “Kaeya!” She shot him the best glare she could and jumped out of her seat. “Not funny,” Her eyes looked behind him to see Tartaglia waving to her from the back of the lot. She shyly waved back to him and smiled. It had been a while since she saw their ginger friend. He was traveling for a modeling gig he booked. The three of them were known to be a close-knit group but since she started this movie they hadn’t been spotted together. Diluc had taken up all her time. 
“What are you idiots doing here?” She placed both of her hands on her hips, seeming pretty peeved with Kaeya. “It’s your last week on set, Furina said we could come to hang with you.” She rolled her eyes and glanced behind her to see the cast getting back to work, but the red eyes on the other side of the set never left her. 
“Come on princess, let's go get lunch or something.” Kaeya walked over to his friend and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “I can’t just leave the set, what if they need me for something?” 
He laughed and pressed a kiss against her cheek smiling, both of them knowing that wasn’t true. “Come on we have to catch up, you’ve been stirring some drama in the news.” (Y/n) sighed and shoved her best friend off and looked to see Diluc approaching them, an annoyed Jean following behind. 
He looked so fucking pissed to see Kaeya anywhere near her. Tartaglia had also made his way over here and the girl didn’t seem to notice as he draped both his arms around her shoulders. Hovering behind her. “Heya girly.” She tilted her head back and smiled at the man. “Hey, Ajax.” 
“Kaeya what  the hell are you doing here?” Diluc’s voice caught the trio's attention. “I’m here to see my friend, not you.” He gestured to (Y/n). 
“Great you’ve seen her, now leave.” 
Jean smacked his arm lightly and glared. “Those are her friends, just because you don’t like Kaeya doesn’t mean you can be rude.” Kaeya stuck his tongue out and grabbed (Y/n)’s hand. “Lunch? Me, you, Childe?” Before she could decline she was being dragged away, mouthing a sorry to the couple in front of her. 
—-
(Y/n) laid next to Diluc eyes glued to the ceiling. The man was passed out next to her and she had this gut-wrenching feeling in her chest. She wanted to cry knowing that this was it. This was the last day on set and they decided to spend the night together, but after this, it was over. The man never said it was but, she knew in her heart it was. He would have free time and no excuse to be with her. I mean how was Diluc supposed to justify the two of them being alone together? Jean basically had him on a leash as is. One time after she left Diluc’s place Jean was over shortly after. She had told (Y/n) she found a pair of underwear that was not the blondes. She confided in her friend, her worries about her fiance cheating. Ever since then, Jean would never let him hang out with people alone. Never anyone but her. Because the she trusted her. 
She felt like crying at the thought of all of it. Jean invited her to go dress shopping cake tasting, and all the fun things that came along with wedding planning. (Y/n) would nod her head and agree feeling this intense guilt inside. Didn’t Diluc feel any of it? Probably not, he enjoyed it or something. But after this. She couldn’t do it anymore, she wanted him all to herself. She didn’t want to hide him from everyone. All she wanted was him. 
So after confiding in Kaeya and Tartaglia, they told her to just break it off after filming. She was only going to hurt herself more in the long run, and if nobody knew about then stop before someone did. Both of her friends were right, and that’s why she made up her mind. Even if this was going to crush her. (Y/n) had truly fallen for him. 
The girl sat up and got her things together. She didn’t want to stay here, it would be worse in the morning when he was awake, begging her to stay. Why would she do this herself? From the moment this started, she knew that he wouldn’t pick her. She was fooling herself into thinking that Diluc would leave Jean for her. The two had been together for almost ten years now, they were high school sweethearts. (Y/n) hurried along ignoring the tears falling down her cheeks. This really was it. 
—-
“Welcome to the premiere of Betrayal at Dusk,” Furina and Neuvillette were standing on a stage, people mingling around the room. It was the first showing of the new movie that (Y/n) had starred in with Diluc. One whole year later The girl hadn’t seen him since that day in his apartment. When she left while he was sleeping, so she didn’t cave for him. So ignoring all that she tried her best to prepare herself for tonight. She had to get Kaeya to tag along to keep her from being stupid. It didn’t matter though, because the moment she stepped out of the limo and onto the red carpet, the man was straight ahead of her. Jean attached to his arm smiling wide. She looked so perfect next to him, her wedding ring shining with all the camera flashes. His arm wrapped so tightly around her. They look happy and it made her want to vomit. 
Once she got to the door of the venue a few reporters were crowding her. 
“(Y/n) Who are you wearing? Is it Dior?”
“What was it like to star in the first romance movie featuring Diluc Ragvandir?” 
“People are saying how raw and passionate the scenes are how did you two form such a bond?” 
“Are the cheating rumors true?” 
She answered each one carefully, trying not to make a mess she would regret later, and somehow she managed to debunk all of the rumors. At some point she was able to make her way inside, Kaeya at her side leading her around to chat with everyone. It worked for most of the night and even made her forget the reality of the situation for a minute. Yet, she found herself glancing around the room for him.  “Don’t worry he’ll avoid you like the plague if I’m here.” (Y/n) just nodded her head and grabbed another drink. She noticed Jean trying to pull him towards her a few times, but failing. He waved in dismal at her idea to go greet the girl. He looked rather annoyed, and it crushed her. 
She wanted to go home, she didn’t want to come to this but her friends made her, and it was the first showing so. A sigh escaped her lip and she handed her drink to Kaeya. “I’m going out for air.” 
“You want me to come?” 
“No,” She turned and walked away from him, and tried her best to find an area outside that wasn’t crowded. Yet everywhere she went it was packed with people, and each time they saw her they couldn’t help but strike up a conversation with the female. It was getting on her nerves that she couldn’t find a place to escape just for a bit. 
Eventually, she wound up in an empty hallway near the back of the venue, the lights off, and it was quiet. She could just breathe for a minute. Clear her head, and then she would get back to the main party. No matter how hard she tried to forget the past year, and pretend like she didn’t have an affair with Diluc, it was pointless. 
She couldn’t even escape for a second though, being interrupted again. 
“Why are you hiding back here?” Her gaze turned towards the familiar voice, and she saw the man who caused all of these emotions. 
“I needed to think,” She stood up from the plush seat she was in, debating on heading back to the party. “You haven’t returned any of my calls.” He approached her, reaching his hand out to grab hers. 
“Don’t do that.” (Y/n) could feel her heart being squeezed at the mere thought of him touching her again.
“I haven’t heard from you, I miss yo-” 
“Don’t say anything please.” She jerked her wrist away before he could even lay a finger on her, tears welling up in her eyes. The girl didn’t even know why she was upset over this, she knew this was going to happen. It was a fling for him. He loved Jean, not her. He didn’t have the same feelings for her as she did for him. Not once did he ever mention that he liked her, or even wanted more than just a quick fuck. A year had passed and she hadn’t texted, called, or even thought about visiting him. No matter how many times Jean tried to get the two to hang out, she would go running at the sight of him. It made the blonde suspect something but she didn’t say a word. Because (Y/n) wouldn’t do that, (Y/n) was a good friend. 
“Just hear me out.” 
“I don’t want to, I knew you were never going to leave her, it wasn’t anything more for you. But for me, it was something else entirely. I had feelings for you, I have feelings for you. I just-I can’t believe I thought you would choose me over her. I’m so stupid.” The sound of footsteps approaching made her quickly wipe her face and storm off. As she went she saw the blonde she was incredibly jealous of pass by. “(Y/n) Hi!” 
She gave her a little wave and kept walking, and she didn’t stop. Not for Kaeya, not for anyone. She wanted to go home and pretend this didn’t happen. 
—-
“I’m sorry Furina I can’t come back for a sequel, I know it did well.” (Y/n) paced her apartment as she was on the phone with her friend. The girl was asking for her to come back and film another movie in the series. If she did that then she had to be around Diluc again. 
“Is it the pay? I can pay so much more than that if you want, or is it the heat? I can film it in the winter, oh please (Y/n), they loved you, and they loved Diluc with you.” 
“That’s the problem, Diluc is the problem.” She leaned against her bedroom wall and sank to the floor. Her heart aching at the memories from last year. “Wait, were the rumors true?” 
“Mhm,”
“Oh (Y/n).” The girl brushed away the tears that started to fall, sniffling, trying her best to keep it together. “I’m sorry Furina, I can’t” 
“You what?!” Jean was screaming at Diluc as he stood there. The blonde overheard the phone call with Furina he had, and the other woman also screaming at him for the whole thing with (Y/n). It wasn’t exactly how he wanted Jean to find out, he never really did want her to find out. Honestly, he was planning on breaking it off after the movie, but Jean kept getting more and more offers from different agencies and he didn’t want to ruin that for her. Then before he knew it a year rolled by and he couldn’t back out now. The wedding was in a few weeks. 
“I cheated on you with (Y/n), it just happened. I don’t know.” 
“How could you? I trusted you, I trusted her. This whole time, you never thought to tell me?” The blonde was furious, tears in her eyes as she glared at her fiance. “It wasn’t her fault it was mine, she tried to stop but I just couldn’t.” Jean rolled her eyes, and more tears rolled down her face as she grabbed her keys. 
“You can forget about the damn wedding.” 
—-
(Y/n) sat at her favorite coffee shop scrolling on her phone happily as she waited for a friend. The news had already hit the magazines and press about her affair with Diluc. It was insane at how big it blew up. Most of her friends came asking for her side of the story and she didn’t lie. She knew she was guilty but they all sided with her in the end. She was moving on from all of that though. Her career was getting bigger and bigger and she decided she wanted to do more than just romance movies, she was taking a break from them. 
Even though Furina begged her every week to make a sequel for the movie. She always told her the same answer. No.
 It always upset the girl but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Repeatedly coming back with new offers or bribes for her. Nothing on the planet could make her want to go back and film with Diluc. “Sorry, I’m late.” (Y/n) looked up and saw Childe waiting in front of her. “Ready to go?” She got up and grabbed her drink smiling happily as the ginger wrapped an arm around her. 
“Yea! Where are we going for our date?”
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unearthing an old loz au :D
Extensive rambling and plot and everything in between below
ok so I made this au over a year ago and the other day in an attempt to procrastinate my brain reminded me of it so here it is! Redesigned!
Ummm basically this version of Hyrule has already fallen to Ganon, and (much like in Narnia) it got very, very cold as a result (I’m still working on the exact ins and out of this, but there IS a reason why lol)
Therefore, Zelda’s clothes are A), very warm, with lots of layers, and B), rather hodgepodged together, as they’re all borrowed. She hasn’t been able to wear her royal clothes in years, as she’s hiding from Ganon. And also most of them burned with Hyrule Castle.
so the embroidered frock (embroidered with flowers for symbolism reasons) thingie is about as princessy as her clothes will get XD
the reason she masquerades as Sheik in this au is more to hide from Link than Ganon. The latter is unaware that the princess escaped, while Link has some issues he’s working through lol
basically, when the kingdom was very suddenly overthrown, a confused and unimportant kid named Link (who was aware of the danger due to reasons I’ll get around to if I post his design), managed to save Zelda, who was still pretty young, and very much terrified. Terrified to see her terrified, Link’s protective side activated, and, well, it never really un-activated after that.
He managed to get her to a quiet, little known town on the outskirts of Hyrule, where some Sheikah (notably Impa) had taken refuge as well. They promised to guard her, and Link headed off to suffer the slow realization that he was a hero alone.
meanwhile, Zelda grew up, and grew stronger, and (once again due to things I won’t quite talk about yet) began to understand her duty towards her people, and to the hero. But, when Link returned to inform Impa of the plans he had made, he was very against Zelda helping him in any way (mainly out of fear for her).
so Zelda came along as Sheik instead :D
A few little things of note, now
I am vaguely basing Link’s inner struggle off my older brother… Link and Zelda do not have a brother/sister relationship however; it ends up a romance >:)
The only difference between Sheik and Zelda is simply that by the time Link sees her again as Sheik, she has dyed her hair and she’s been in the sun a bit more… magic is not involved in this case. Honestly it only works because Link didn’t know Zelda very well before lol
Zelda likes to sew, and garden as much as the climate will let her.
She has a very bright personality, but she takes what other people say to heart. I’ve found whenever I make an loz au, Zelda and/or Link don’t start out with Wisdom and Courage, but rather must gain it to some extent. This story is no different.
In some cases, I focus only on one of them, but this story specifically is about both. They grow together, just like Hyrule must grow again :D
in this story, they are all traumatized. Including Ganon. (he also has a backstory I’m working on hehe)
finally, the sheik design is not final… I’m still working on it lol
ok, that’s it! Byeeeeee
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wigglywormy · 6 months
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blurred lines, sharp twine [bakugou/deku, 5.6k, nsfw]
okay. so I haven't written a fic in over 5 years!! can y'all believe that? i used to be so active on this blog, pumping out fics day and night, but life got busy and before I knew it over 5 years have passed omg.
of course my first fic back would be something like this lol. this was written for @wreckingtickles who shares my undying love for bakugou getting absolutely destroyed. they prompted me with a fic featuring bakugou's stirrup leggings and that kinda spiraled into this huge monster of a fic.
please enjoy 8) (also i made an ao3 to cross-post my tickle fics on!)
warnings: nsfw, feet, intense tickling, bondage, veryyyy slight dub-con, minors DNI.
Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but he definitely doesn’t really try to hide the fact that he’s a little on the strange side. He knows he’s a gigantic nerd (he’s thoroughly reminded of that fact by Bakugou everyday), he knows he’s a little awkward, and he knows he’s maybe even a little bit of a freak. But, through the years of trauma, war, violence, and near-death, he’s come to accept that life is much too short to deny who you are.
Moving in with Bakugou after graduation was something Izuku didn’t even have to think about. Bakugou set up a few apartment viewings, and it went completely unsaid that the smartest decision for both of them would be to stick together. Roommates equaled cheaper rent, and since they both were working under the same agency it was easy to align their schedules. Normally they patrol together (the Wonder Due didn’t get its name for nothing), but occasionally - especially lately - Bakugou has been picking up more shifts than usual. 
Izuku can’t help but notice how tired Bakugou has been lately, especially tonight, coming home  from his 9th day in a row of patrol. The door closes softly behind him - he must think Izuku’s asleep already as it’s around two in the morning, and Izuku turns slightly from his position curled up on the couch to watch Bakugou toe his boots off. He’s already changed out of his hero uniform, clad in only his leggings and a soft, worn looking hoodie that Izuku’s pretty sure belongs to him. 
Bakugou leans his head against the wall in the foyer for a brief moment, sighing deeply, and Izuku’s heart aches at the noise.
“Late night?” Izuku asks, closing his book and setting it on the coffee table. 
Bakugou jumps. “Jesus - shit, you scared the fuck outta me.”
“Sorry,” Izuku murmurs, a slight smile on his face. 
“The fuck are you still doing up?” Bakugou grumbles, finally making his way over to sprawl on the opposite end of the couch, sinking into the cushions with a grunt. 
Izuku shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Which, technically isn’t a lie, but. Still. Even when he lays in his bed at night during one of Bakugou’s shifts that he’s not partnered on, he finds himself teetering between sleep and wakefulness as he listens carefully for the front door to open and shut, signaling Bakugou has gotten home safe for the night. Codependency wasn’t something Izuku was planning on adopting after the war, but his heart just can’t seem to relax if he doesn’t know that Bakugou is home and safe. Breathing. Alive.  
Normally it’s fine, but since Bakugou has been working himself to death the past few weeks, Izuku’s own sleep schedule has taken a toll. 
Bakugou doesn’t look bloodied or bruised now, though, which is a good sign. 
“I thought your shift ended at midnight?” Izuku asks, his eyes unconsciously skimming over Bakugou’s exhausted body as he slumps further down into the cushions. He folds his arms over his chest, burrowing into the oversized borrowed hoodie, and Izuku smiles because Bakugou is so loud and brash, but right now, here and safe at home, he allows himself to be soft with Izuku.
“It was supposed to,” Bakugou grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “One of the interns got caught up in a stupid bank robbery and ended up with a fuckin’ concussion, so I stayed late to help finish up some of his paperwork.”
“That’s sweet of you, Kacchan,” Izuku teases, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out to rest in Izuku’s lap.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou says, voice tense with exhaustion, “I’m a fuckin’ saint.”
Izuku let’s his hands fall onto Bakugou’s ankles, rubbing gently with his thumbs, and he swallows heavily as his eyes trail down Bakugou’s body, the black leggings hugging his muscles tightly, all the way down to the thin straps holding the stirrups along the arches of his feet.
Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but shit, that’s another thing about moving in with Bakugou after graduation. Getting to see all of these new and exciting sides of him; tense and angry and bloody after a fight, soft and exhausted after a long boring shift, sleepy and comfortable on his day off. 
But the damn stirrup leggings have Izuku trying desperately hard not to act up. 
“Do you - uh, want a foot rub or something?” Izuku blurts out, his thumb pressing into the bone of Bakugou’s ankle.
Bakugou’s eyes narrow, and Izuku offers a small nervous smile, trying not to seem as if he’s too interested. He just wants to help his friend relax, okay? Nothing weird about that. It’s not like they haven’t massaged each other before after a long day of hero work. Bakugou’s great with his hands, and Izuku’s arms and shoulders get knotted up so tightly after hours of using his quirk. 
Bakugou still has smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes since he hasn’t washed his face yet since patrol, and it makes his gaze piercing in the low light of the living room. He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative, before shrugging eventually and folding his arms across his chest.
“Fuck it, I ain’t gonna say no to a free foot massage,” He shrugs, “Lemme take these stupid fuckin’ leggings off first - ”
“No!” Izuku blurts out, and he chuckles awkwardly as his grip tightens on Bakugou’s ankles. “I mean - um. You don’t have to, it’s fine.”
This time, Bakugou looks… curious, which is the only way Izuku can describe his gaze. He bites his lip a bit as he thinks, and when he wiggles his toes a bit, Izuku feels warmth pooling low in his belly. Bakugou’s feet are surprisingly slender, his arch defined beautifully, ideal for someone who has to be quick on their feet. His toes are slightly pink, as are the soles of his feet, and they look soft from being in his boots all day. Izuku swallows thickly, but god, he just wants to touch. 
Is he into feet? Who knows, maybe, he honestly hasn’t thought too much about it until recently. Maybe he’s just into Bakugou’s feet? When Bakugou wiggles his toes again, Izuku finally glances up and catches his gaze. 
“Well? What’re you waitin’ for,” Bakugou says, his voice softer than it’s been all night. 
Izuku’s hands are large, tan, and calloused - a stark contrast against Bakugou’s pale skin, and at the fist press of his thumbs into the arch, Bakugou exhales quickly through his nose, body sinking further into the couch. 
It’s a little difficult to massage his feet with the strap from his stirrups hugging his arches, but at this moment in time Izuku would rather die than ask Bakugou to take them off. He moves over to just one foot, pressing both thumbs into the heel of his foot, and he slowly works his way up, calluses catching onto the legging strap as he moves upwards. 
“Did the bank robber get caught?” Izuku asks, hands firm but delicate, watching as Bakugou’s toes twitch when he digs in beneath them. 
“What?” Bakugou replies, blinking his eyes open where they’ve fallen shut. “The - oh, shit. Yeah. Sero was actually patrolling nearby so he got him while I took the dumbass intern to medical.”
“Don’t be so mean,” Izuku chuckles, “We were dumbass interns once, too.”
“Interns, yes. Dumbass? No,” Bakugou shoots back, but then he smirks. “Well, I wasn’t a dumbass. Can’t say the same about you, nerd.”
Izuku rolls his eyes, and he can’t help it when his touch softens, hooking a finger underneath the stirrup strap to graze his nail along the delicate arch. 
The reaction is instant - Bakugou inhales sharply and twitches, looking ready to pull his leg back, but Izuku holds onto the strap, preventing him from moving away. 
“Deku,” Bakugou growls, and to everyone else on this planet, the expression on his face would scream angry, sharp, intimidating. 
But Izuku’s known him since they were kids. Izuku can read him like a damn book, and right now underneath that glare, Bakugou looks nervous.
Izuku keeps his touch soft, one finger hooked into the stirrup strap, while his other hand grazes right beneath the blonde’s toes. His foot twitches again, his toes curling up tightly, and the only word that comes to Izuku’s mind is cute. His feet are cute, and apparently sensitive, and Izuku has no idea what monster has taken over his brain but all he wants to do right now is see Bakugou squirm. 
He might be dipping into dangerous territory, but ever since they moved in together, Bakugou’s been much more open to physical touch. It almost feels like a game they’ve been playing, dancing around each other but never going to a place they can’t return from. They’ve fallen asleep cuddling on the couch. They’ve spent quiet days off with Izuku’s head in Bakugou’s lap, the blonde idly playing with his hair while they watch old reruns of All Might movies together. They’ve even spent a few nights together in bed, holding each other close when the nightmares creep up every few weeks. 
But this? This might be a place they can’t return from. Izuku’s not sure what Bakugou’s feeling right now, but the lines are so incredibly blurred in this moment, and Bakugou’s cheeks are steadily turning pink, and Izuku knows he could pull away if he really, really tried. 
But he’s not. He’s staying put, fingers clenched into the cushions of the couch, eyeing Izuku warily. 
“You know,” Izuku says idly, moving one hand to grip Bakugou’s ankle, the other hand trailing his fingers up and down, up and down, so soft it’s barely there. “You used to be so mean when we were kids, holding me down and tickling me until I cried.”
At the word - tickling - Bakugou audibly swallows. “Not my fault you were so damn ticklish, idiot.” 
“I could never really get you back because you were so much stronger than me,” Izuku muses. 
“It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, I’m not fuckin’ ticklish,” Bakugou replies. His voice sounds sure and steady, but his eyes keep flickering down to where Izuku is still stroking up and down his sole. He’s tense, and Izuku can feel it - Bakugou’s trying so hard not to move, not to give himself away. 
Izuku laughs quietly to himself. Of course Bakugou would see this as a challenge to himself. 
“Of course you’re not ticklish, Kacchan,” Izuku says, “Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, it might actually come true.”
“It is true, you little shit - ah!”
He squeaks, his breath hitching, when Izuku flutters his fingers under his toes again. His other leg, the one Izuku isn’t holding by the ankle, jerks back, and Izuku thinks no, we can’t have that now, before tendrils of black whip shoot out, pulling his other leg back and twisting around the ankle. 
“Okay, now that’s completely fuckin’ unfair,” Bakugou grunts, trying to sound unaffected, but this time Izuku can hear the shake in his voice. “The hell are you tryin’ do here, Deku?”
“Nothing,” Izuku says, a few more tendrils of black whip emerging to wrap around his other ankle so both of Izuku’s hands are free now. 
“You call this nothing?” Bakugou tugs at his feet a bit, and black whip tightens to keep him in place. 
Izuku ignores him. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?”
Bakugou frowns. “I’m not.”
“Then this is nothing,” Izuku teases, finally wiggling his fingers in earnest over both of Bakugou’s feet, now bound in his lap for him to do with as he pleases. The thought has his stomach flipping, molten lava settling low in his gut, and he can’t help his dick twitching in interest. 
Bakugou’s reaction is beautiful, finally a small huff of laughter escaping him as he wiggles his feet as much as he can with black whip holding his ankles down. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and they keep alternating from clutching at the cushion beneath him to hovering in the air as if he’s fighting his instinct of reaching down and showing Izuku away. His eyes are averting, as if the thought of watching Izuku tickle him is too much, and oh, he’s so cute. 
Izuku’s feeling a little nice at the moment, but Bakugou’s fighting his laughter, and Izuku wants to hear him, so he moves his fingers up, scratching underneath his toes. Bakugou does laugh this time, covering his mouth with one hand in surprise as the sound escapes him. His toes curl, trying to block Izuku’s fingers, and a few more tendrils of black whip slither out and wrap around each of his toes, effectively prying them back so Izuku’s fingers can burrow into the soft, sensitive flesh there. 
“Wait - no, Deku - ah, ahah.” His laughter is light and staccato, little gasps in between his growls as he covers his mouth with both hands now, muffling himself as his eyes squint in mirth. Once again, he could get Izuku to stop if he really wanted to, but besides the tugging and squirming of his bound feet, he’s not doing much else to get away.
That thought intrigues Izuku, and his confidence grows as he scratches in between his toes, pulled back and vulnerable thanks to black whip. 
“I always thought your feet might be sensitive, you know, with how much you sweat and stuff,” Izuku muses, gears turning in his head as he makes mental notes on where Bakugou seems to react the most to. Underneath his toes seems much more ticklish than between them, but the arch of his sole seems equally as sensitive, especially when he pulls back one of the stirrup straps and rakes all five fingers up and down. 
Bakugou gasps. “Y-you’re a d-dick,” he growls, but the words melt into laughter as Izuku does the same thing to his other foot before letting the strap go with a snap. 
He gives Bakugou a moment to breathe, and the blonde finally lowers his hands from his mouth. His face is extremely flushed now, and he’s looking at Izuku with a mix of murderous intent and… want?
“Still not ticklish?” Izuku murmurs, rubbing his palms over Bakugou’s soles. The blonde twitches again, tensing, before relaxing when Izuku just rubs firmly, soothing. 
“Once again - you’re a dick,” he grumbles. 
“And you’re ticklish,” Izuku teases back, scratching his nails up the sides of Bakugou’s feet this time before making their way back to the soft, pink skin right beneath his toes. 
“Don’t - Deku, st-stop! It f-fuckin’ - ” 
“It what?” Izuku’s feeling mean now, and having Bakugou squirming because of him has his dick hardening more in his sweats. “It tickles?”
“I - I c-can’t - ahahaha!” 
“You’re so strong, you can take it, can’t you?” And oh, Izuku’s playing dirty, because there’s nothing Bakugou hates than being told he can’t do something, and if he admits he can’t take the tickling, it’d be the same as admitting defeat, and Bakugou Katsuki is not someone who’s ever been defeated. 
Although, Izuku thinks, watching as Bakugou covers his mouth again and squeezes his eyes shut, tickling might just be the key to finally defeating this man. 
Izuku doesn’t like how muffled he sounds, though, so he uses more of black whip to sneakily slide up and twist around Bakugou’s wrists, tugging them away from his face. A few tendrils slip up his arms and slide underneath the sleeves of his hoodie, and Bakugou’s expression turns to panic. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” He hisses, but his lips are still twitching on a smile which ruins the intimidation of it. “This is an awful fuckin’ use of your quirk - ”
“So was last week, with yours,” Izuku interrupts, “when you were too lazy to microwave the popcorn and tried to just explode it instead.” Izuku laughs, remembering how long it took them to fish out all of the popcorn kernels from every single crevice in the living room. 
“At least that was for a good reason!” Bakugou protests, squirming when the tendrils of black whip slip higher into his sleeves, nearly grazing his underarms now. His breathing is short, body tensed and mouth turned down in a pout. 
“You’re saying this isn’t a good reason?”
“What, so fuckin’ torturing me is a good reason to abuse your quirk?”
“It’s torture?” Izuku murmurs. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”
If Bakugou’s face could get any pinker, it would, and he bites his lip hard when Izuku wiggles black whip into the hollows of his underarms, keeping it light and feathery. Bakugou can’t hold out for long, though, and soon he’s gasping on a laugh and wriggling as much as he can in the hold Izuku has him in. 
This time though, Izuku fails to notice Bakugou’s feet squirming aggressively, and Izuku freezes and gasps when the blonde’s bound feet nudge against the very obvious hard-on in his sweats. 
Izuku swallows, his hands darting down to grab a hold of Bakugou’s feet. His toes are still tied back with black whip, and Izuku resists the urge to brush his fingers along the skin because something is unraveling inside of him and having Bakugou like this is quickly becoming addicting. Instead, he ducks his head, words escaping him as he opens his mouth but not coming up with anything to say. 
A few seconds pass, Izuku preparing himself mentally for an explosion to blast him away or for disgusted yelling and screaming to occur. He’s already mentally drafting the text to Todoroki to ask if he can move in with him when Bakugou inevitably kicks him out once he’s freed.
A beat passes. One. Two. The silence is deafening, and Izuku finally manages to raise his eyes up to glance at Bakugou, surprised at the curious expression painted there. Bakugou nudges his heels gently against Izuku’s dick again, and Izuku hisses and bites his lip, apologies already spilling from his mouth, 
“I’m s-sorry, shit, um - ”
“I should’ve fuckin’ known you’d be into something weird like this,” Bakugou says lowly, tilting his head a bit, almost like a cat analyzing it’s prey. “You’re a little freak, ain’t ya?”
The words should be harsh and piercing, but Bakugou sounds like he’s…. teasing him. And not in the mean, bullying way that Izuku was expecting. Their eyes meet, and Izuku sees a small hint of a smirk when Bakugou presses his heels in harder, wiggling against Izuku’s clothed cock as much as he can in his restraints. 
“Kacchan - ah,” Izuku sighs, cheeks burning. “What’re you - ”
“What is it you like about it, huh?” Bakugou asks, his voice low. 
Izuku’s head feels like it’s going to explode. “I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t even - I mean… I like….”
Bakugou raises an eyebrow. His arms are still held tightly with black whip, the tendrils under his arms twitch when Izuku stutters, making Bakugou squeak quietly and jerk in his hold. That has Izuku’s eyes darkening again, and Bakugou still hasn’t blasted him away. If anything he’s egging him on, and Izuku’s mind races with what this might mean. 
“I like… you,” Izuku starts off slowly. 
“Me?” Bakugou questions, and if Izuku isn’t mistaken, there’s a twinge of something akin to hope in his voice. 
“Yeah, you,” Izuku breathes, all rational thoughts thrown to the wayside now. “But I also like… having you, like this,” Izuku plays with the stirrup straps on Bakugou’s soles, fiddling with the fabric, breathing hard when Bakugou squirms each time his fingers graze the skin. “I like feeling you squirm. Hearing you laugh. Having you all… y’know, vulnerable for me?”
As he speaks, a few more tendrils of black whip slip under the front hem of Bakugou’s hoodie, slithering up and tapping away at his ribs. That has Bakugou giggling again, and god, Izuku loves his laugh. This is different from his normal laugh, it’s softer and hiccupy and the sound sends white-hot heat straight to his dick. Shit, could he come from this? Just from having Bakugou squirming and laughing and bound up like a perfect little present?
“Jesus - Izuku,” Bakugou laughs, rubbing his thighs together, and Izuku’s eyes widen when he sees a bulge in his leggings, now visible from where his hoodie has ridden up. 
Izuku’s brain short-circuits then, and he’s now laser focused on the other boy, fingers moving almost mindlessly as they go back to scratching beneath sensitive toes. Izuku keeps his eyes on Bakugou’s face, his expressions, every twitch of his brow, and the blonde chokes on a laugh and ducks his head, trying to hide his face since Izuku has his arms pulled aside. 
“What do you like about it?” Izuku asks, growing bolder the more Bakugou squirms. 
“Fuck, oh my g-god, I d-dont - !”
Izuku moves finally, and though he keeps Bakugou bound with his quirk, he crawls up until he’s seated, straddling Bakugou’s thighs where they’re squeezed together, and now Izuku’s just a nudge away from Bakugou’s own obvious arousal. 
“You don’t like it?” Izuku says, and this time, he withdraws black whip from underneath Bakugou’s hoodie, instead sliding his own hands beneath the fabric to touch bare skin. His hands are warm and large, fingers curling gently over Bakugou’s deliciously tapered waist, and though he doesn’t do anything yet, Bakugou’s shifting and squirming beneath him already. 
Bakugou’s eyes meet Izuku’s finally, and when Izuku flicks his gaze down to Bakugou’s cock, hard as a rock in his leggings, Bakugou groans and ducks his head again. 
“It’s not - I don’t know!” Bakugou breathes out, frustration clear in his voice. “You’re just - fuck, it’s weird.”
“It’s not that weird, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, and Bakugou tugs helplessly at his arms again. Izuku hums, pulling his arms with black whip until his wrists are crossed, and then slowly - absolutely mean - he lifts Bakugou’s arms up and back until his elbows are bent, bound hands pulled behind his head and forcing Bakugou to lean back more into the arm of the couch. Izuku slides further up, straddling Bakugou’s thighs until their clothed cocks finally brush, and Bakugou breathes out a shaky noise. 
“It’s okay,” Izuku breathes. 
“Let me go,” Bakugou grumbles, but his eyes are averted, blush high on his cheeks, teeth gnawing at his lower lip nervously. And wow, having Bakugou nervous, beneath him where Izuku can feel the heat radiating off of his body, has Izuku grinding forward, rubbing their dicks together firmly. 
Bakugou instinctively tries to buck his hips up, but with the way he’s bound up, he can’t get too much leverage. Once again, he’s still not blasting Izuku off into the sun with his own quirk, so Izuku drums his fingers against Bakugou’s bare sides, drawing little circles with his thumbs right beneath his ribs. 
“Ah - ” Bakugou hiccups on another strained giggle, and Izuku grins at him sharply. 
“What do you like about it?” Izuku repeats, tickling oh-so-gently, because now that he has his hands touching him, he can’t stop. He can feel every hitch of breath, can feel his body tremble with restrained laughter, and there’s definitely no going back from here. 
When Bakugou doesn’t respond, Izuku creeps his hands higher, towards the upper part of his ribs. His hoodie is bunched up completely now, and although Izuku would love to remove the damn piece of clothing, he’s scared if he lets Bakugou go now, this electric bubble they’re both in will pop and Izuku will have missed his chance completely. 
He grinds against Bakugou again, while at the same time finally digging into his ribs, and the explosive laughter that Bakugou lets out has Izuku groaning out loud. 
“Okay - okahahay! Fuck!” Bakugou yelps, taking a breath when Izuku’s fingers finally pause. “I - fuck, I don’t know. I like… how it feels, not being… not being able to move or some shit, I guess.”
Bakugou looks like he’d rather die than tell Izuku all of this, but Izuku’s already gotten this far, and there’s nothing that would ever make him stop now. The blurred line is now vanished completely, and Izuku murmurs quietly,
“You like being tied up, Kacchan?”
Bakugou frowns, glaring at him, but doesn’t respond. 
Izuku continues, smirking. “You like being tied up by me?”
Bakugou squirms a bit, staying defiantly silent. 
“You like being tickled like this? Helpless, vulnerable, letting me do whatever I want to you while you can’t do anything to stop it?” Izuku has no idea where this filthy mouth of his came from, but he takes this newfound confidence and harnesses it, slipping a hand down to cup Bakugou through his leggings and squeeze. 
“Nn - fuck,” Bakugou pants. “No, you asshole, I don’t like being tickled - ”
“I disagree,” Izuku says, and this time when he pinches at Bakugou’s ribs, he can feel Bakugou’s cock jump beneath his hand as the blonde gasps out a laugh. “I actually think you really like it.”
“Just - when it’s you,” Bakugou finally gasps out, giggling softly as Izuku crawls his hand higher. His words give Izuku pause, Izuku’s heart beating rapidly in his chest because oh. Okay. Just when it’s him? Because it’s him?
Oh.
“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, a magnetic pull tugging at his chest until he’s ducking down and kissing the laughter right out of Bakugou’s mouth. The blonde moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss him deeper, and Izuku happily licks into his mouth, chasing the feeling of god, fuck, finally. 
Bakugou jerks his head to the side though when Izuku’s hand creeps higher, fluttering dangerous fingers into his underarm, and he yelps on a laugh, squirming and bucking up into Izuku’s other hand still kneading at his dick. 
“Oh my god,” Bakugou giggles, shaking his head back and forth, and Izuku takes a moment to duck lower and kiss his neck, licking up beneath his jaw, biting gently right under his ear. That has Bakugou squeaking again, and Izuku moans as he feels the blonde tremble against him. 
“God, you’re so cute,” Izuku moans in disbelief. “How can you be so hot and cute at the same time?”
“Y-you should be - ah, ahaha - asking yourself th-that - fuck, Izuku, I cahahan’t!”
Izuku stops tickling him for a moment and grins. “You think I’m hot and cute?”
“Not right now, while you’re ti - ,” Bakugou cuts himself off with an embarrassed grunt, not even able to say the actual word, and Izuku takes note of that happily, “Also, fuck you, I’m not cute.”
Izuku doesn’t respond right away, instead opting for shoving Bakugou’s leggings down so they’re bunched around his thighs, freeing his dick, before settling back up where he was seated before. He pulls his own cock out of his sweats, and when he wraps a large, calloused hand around them both and strokes, squeezing perfectly tight, Bakugou throws his head back and moans. 
Tendrils of black whip slide down his legs where his feet are still tightly held in place, and as they flutter and scratch beneath his toes more intensely this time, Bakugou actually lets out a small sob, his eyes tearing up as he simultaneously tries to tug at his legs while also squirming up into Izuku’s hand on their cocks. 
“You’re feet are so sensitive,” Izuku muses, his pupils so dark his eyes look black, and although Bakugou can’t really kiss him back while he’s laughing, that doesn’t stop Izuku from swallowing up every little noise he makes, lips spit-slick and panting against Bakugou’s mouth. 
“Izu - Izuku, plehehease - ah, fuck, fuck,” He sounds like something straight out of one of Izuku’s wet dreams, and Izuku leans back again to stare at his face. Bakugou’s eyes are screwed up now, tears leaking out from the corners, and Izuku coos at him. 
“Baby,” he says sweetly, “Is it too much?”
“Y-yes, I can’t - Izuku please.”
“I think you’re stronger than that. It’s just tickling,” Izuku teases. Bakugou’s cock is leaking, and it’s making the slide of Izuku’s hand on them both so, so good. Izuku brings out some more tendrils of black whip, sliding them right back underneath Bakugou’s hoodie to return to the warmth of his underarms, and Bakugou screams. 
“It’s so - ahhaha, it’s t-too much,” Bakugou whines, his breathless giggling mixed with moans that sound as if they’re being punched out of him, and his body is strung tight, so tight Izuku can feel how close he is to breaking. 
There’s something so incredibly sweet about taking Bakugou completely apart like this. Izuku pants and grinds into his own hand, squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock against the blonde’s, and while black whip continues tormenting Bakugou’s poor feet and underarms, Izuku’s own free hand comes up to grip Bakugou by the chin, forcing him to look at him, eyes blurry through his tears. 
“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers, his lips just a breath away from Bakugou’s, feeling the warm desperate noises coming out of the boy’s mouth. 
Izuku swipes his thumb over the head of Bakugou’s cock, his own arousal forgotten as he slips down to squeeze at the base tightly, preventing the blonde from actually coming. Bakugou makes a guttural, desperate noise, and Izuku’s grip tightens on his face, keeping him there, watching him. 
Izuku’s quirk is nearly everywhere by now, black whip slithering beneath the leggings to stroke behind his knees, a few more tendrils brushing and tickling at his neck, and even more settled beneath his hoodie, prodding and digging and relentless. The fight has completely left Bakugou finally, and he’s slumped against the arm of the couch, body shaking and fighting the plethora of sensations that are overwhelming him. 
“Hey,” Izuku laughs a bit, “Baby, c’mon. Tell me how it feels.”
It almost feels evil, watching as Bakugou tries to speak, to come with something, anything to get Izuku to - what, to stop tickling him? To keep tickling him? To stroke his dick again until he comes all over himself? Bakugou’s brain is mush, and Izuku revels in the desperation painted on the boy’s blushing face. 
“It - fuck, it f-feels like torture,” Bakugou manages to gasp out, but he bucks his hip up when he feels black whip dig into the ticklish dip of his hip. 
“You like being tortured, it seems,” Izuku points out as Bakugou’s cock leaks another bead of precome, so red and hard it’s nearly purple. 
“No - ” Bakugou hiccups on his laughter, eyes widening when Izuku raises a brow,, “I mean - fine, shihihit - yes, yes, I like it, god fucking d-damnit Izuku!”
“Shh,” Izuku soothes, but he doesn’t release his hold at the base of Bakugou’s cock. 
“Please,” Bakugou whines, and Izuku nearly comes when he realizes he has Bakugou exactly where he wants him. 
“Please what?” Izuku releases Bakugou’s chin and his hand slips under the hoodie, pinching right at Bakugou’s top rib, a place Izuku’s learned makes him absolutely lose it. 
“Pl-please let me - ah, ahaha fuhuhuck - please let me c-come!” Bakugou’s crying in earnest now, ducking his head down to press his forehead against the crook of Izuku’s neck, and Izuku’s heart leaps when the blonde bites down on Izuku’s shirt, trying to muffle his noises in the fabric. 
It’s adorable, and Izuku sighs happily. “Of course, Kacchan.”
He grabs ahold of both of their cocks again, this time stroking in earnest, fast and quick. It doesn’t take more than a few pumps of his hand before Bakugou is crying out against Izuku’s neck, writhing beneath him as he comes, and Izuku keeps tickling him through it. The sensation is electric, Bakugou’s body fighting to distinguish between pleasure and torment, and Izuku groans loudly as he uses Bakugou’s come to stroke his own cock. 
“St-stop,” Bakugou giggles, completely breathless, “Too - too f-fucking much - please - ”
Izuku ducks back down to kiss the sweet helpless laughter right out of his mouth, finally coming, his own come mixing with Bakugou’s between them. Izuku heaves a deep breath, slumping against Bakugou as black whip finally retracts, disappearing back into his body and releasing the blonde from their clutches. 
It’s quiet for a moment, Bakugou’s arms having fallen limp at his sides, head still buried in Izuku’s neck as he catches his breath. When he shifts, flexing his legs a little, Izuku leans back, sitting up and brushing Bakugou’s hair back from his sweaty forehead. 
“Holy fuck,” Bakugou manages, blinking leftover tears from his eyes. “You’re fuckin’ evil, you know that?”
Izuku giggles nervously, still riding the high of whatever the hell just happened between them. Bakugou finally lifts his arms, wrapping them around Izuku’s waist loosely, and Izuku’s heart flutters when Bakugou leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Izuku’s mouth. 
“You liked it,” Izuku says, turning to kiss him properly, now able to happily lick into the warmth without Bakugou’s laughter hindering him. 
“Fuck off,” Bakugou murmurs into his mouth. “So what if I did, huh?”
Izuku just hums, because that blurred line being gone means that now he can kiss Bakugou whenever he wants, and that thought has him grinning widely and winding his arms around Bakugou’s neck. 
“Ew, no, don’t get your nasty jizz-hands in my hair!” Bakugou protests, and Izuku laughs out loud, pulling his arms back quickly. 
“Shit - sorry, sorry! We should probably get cleaned up, huh? Your hoodie is covered in come.”
“Good thing it’s not my hoodie, then,” Bakugou smirks. His cheeks are still flushed, and Izuku rolls his eyes as he takes his come-covered hand and smacks it right into Bakugou’s cheek before darting off of him and running away like his life depends on it. 
Bakugou shrieks and scrambles to chase after him, and Izuku’s laughter echoes happily through their apartment.
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Okay, back at it again with Netflix’s One Piece. Here are my thoughts on episode 3 (as someone who has never watched or read the series, so this is the only One Piece content I’ve ever gotten into):
1) Usopp has “Russian Baltic Fleet during the Russo-Japanese War” energy. Keeps seeing enemy ships that aren’t there.
2) I just noticed this. I’m a little bothered that everyone is a little too dry. Everyone is out at sea, at least have the actors splash themselves with water every now and then. The characters don’t even look sweaty, despite doing hard work in the sun! Anyways, this is just a nitpick. Obviously, realism isn’t a major point for this show.
3) Helmeppo and Koby friendship arc?
4) Didn’t expect Buggy to return. I thought he would just be a one-off villain. But I’m not gonna object to having more Jeff Ward in the show.
5) I’m assuming Arlong is the main villain of season 1?
6) “What kind of pirate are you?” Nami is saying EXACTLY what I’m thinking lol. Doesn’t want to steal, he wants to help people, he doesn’t really talk about earning money, he befriends a potential marine (which I’m assuming is this world’s equivalent of the government). Luffy is the most anti-pirate pirate character I’ve ever encountered. It’s like his definition of pirate is something entirely different, while everyone around him actually knows what pirates do.
7) So we have the goofy hero, the sassy thief, and the lone-wolf badass. I’m assuming Usopp is the cowardly liar who just wants people to be impressed by him, like he’s seeking validation. So…he’s Zenitsu. Or Ron Stoppable.
8) Okay, not gonna lie, I’m kinda feeling Zoro x Nami. They got a little Batman-Catwoman type chemistry. But I’ll keep my mind open since I’ve read that this other character Sanji likes Nami?
9) I swear to god, I can hear the kawaii voice that would be coming from a character like Kaya. I’m gonna have to rewatch this in the Japanese dub to confirm my suspicions.
Okay, will make another post for the next half of the episode.
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batneko · 2 years
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Here's an idea I originally planned to write as another Bowuigi scenario post, but I decided to turn it into a ficlet because it would be too short. Now it's about 2000 words, lol.
It had been clear from the beginning that something as simple as a "Science Expo" wouldn't be simple at all in the Mushroom Kingdom. Luigi had been braced for disaster from the moment he heard about it, and Bowser's attack almost came as a relief.
No, his mistake had been un-bracing after Bowser was captured and locked in a cage one of the scientists had invented.
Sure, it looked sturdy. Sure, the scientist assured Princess Peach that the cage was completely indestructible. Sure, the only key had been moved from the display table to a security toad's neck after Bowser gave up on trying to bend the bars and started sneakily (as sneaky as anybody his size could be) reaching for it instead.
None of that was the problem. The problem turned out to be another experiment all the way on the other side of the hall that collapsed and caught on fire. That toad scientist said he wasn't even sure how it caught on fire - there weren't any flammable components! About half a second before the blaze spread to the next table, which happened to be full of chemicals, and turned into a giant green fireball.
"Okay, everybody out!" Peach exclaimed, calmly but firmly. "Evacuate the building. Walk, don't run!"
People tended to listen when the princess talked - Luigi supposed that was a skill you had to pick up when you ruled a country. But the fire was pretty eye-catching, and panic set in before he and Mario could start working on crowd control. There was screaming, running (what did Peach just say?), scientists attempting to pack up their exhibits, and for some reason several people tried to head for the same exits that the fire was creeping toward.
"Doesn't this place have sprinklers?" he heard Mario ask.
"I thought so," Peach said. "I don't know why they're not-"
An alarm started to blare, and then they all felt the sudden downpour of the sprinkler system. There was a mass exhale, relief settling in, calming the crowd.
And then something new exploded into flames.
"My elemental sodium!" a toad exclaimed.
Memories of 8th grade chemistry flashing through his mind, Luigi clenched his teeth and got back to guiding the evacuation. There was nothing he wanted more than to head for the exits himself right now, especially with the added discomfort of water dripping off his hat onto his nose, but a hero had responsibilities - and besides, he was the second tallest person in the room.
It only took a few minutes, nobody exactly wanted to stay, and then Luigi was safely outside and wringing water out of his hat. A disaster, but one in which no one got hurt. About the best he could have asked for.
The security toads were doing their jobs now, keeping the crowd away from the merrily burning building. The one with the key around his neck was explaining to a very distraught toad that if the fire didn’t ruin his cardboard model of a bathysphere, the water would. Which was probably ironic in some way.
Wait a minute.
Luigi lunged forward and grabbed the toad’s arm, startling both of them with how fast he’d moved. “Did you let Bowser out?” he asked.
The toad took a second to register what he’d said, glancing down at the giant key as long as his chest. “Oh! Uh, no. I didn’t think-”
“Give that to me.”
The toad obliged, struggling to get the chan over his head until he managed to pop the clasp in the back. Key in hand, Luigi took a step toward the building… and stopped. He looked back over the milling crowd, at Peach’s head of blonde hair. She was the only one tall enough to see, but Mario was rarely far from her. He could find him, ask him to…
No, there was no time. Gritting his teeth, Luigi ran back toward the expo hall to the sounds of several panicked shouts.
The heat was like walking into a wall. Since the fire started on the opposite end from Bowser’s cage, Luigi didn’t have to worry about actually dodging flames, but he could feel the heat and the smoke getting into his lungs. Pulling his shirt up over his nose and trying not to cough, Luigi made his way to the corner he’d been trying to avoid before.
Bowser was still sitting there, arms folded, scowling. He was looking at the floor when Luigi ran up, and Luigi tried to focus on getting the key into the lock with wet gloves on as an excuse to not meet his eyes.
“What are you doing?” Bowser asked.
“Getting you out of here,” Luigi said. Luckily the lock opened smoothly, and Luigi threw the door open so hard it clanged against the bars. "Come on."
The cage was too small for him, Bowser had to duck to get out the door, and as he straightened up to his full height for a second it felt like he was blocking out the sun. Luigi was very, very aware of the difference in their sizes.
He swallowed, forced himself to say, "This way," and tried to ignore the way it came out as a squeak.
"You're an idiot," Bowser said.
Luigi hadn't exactly been expecting to be thanked, but the insult didn't seem necessary. Just because they almost forgot him didn't mean they did.
But arguing would waste time, and the fire was still creeping along the walls where the sprinklers didn't reach. He adjusted his shirt again and turned toward the door he'd come in through, still open and still safe.
He hadn't taken two steps before a wooden beam crashed down in front of him. Luigi yelped and jumped backwards, hiding behind the first large object he saw - which turned out to be Bowser.
"Uh… sorry."
Bowser just shook his head.
There was more crashing, and the crackle of flames was a lot closer than Luigi liked. Had it spread to the ceiling already? If the walls weren't safe and the open spaces weren't safe, what were they going to do?
If anybody had remembered to let Bowser out in the first place they wouldn't be in this mess. Unfortunately, Luigi counted as "anybody," meaning this was as much his fault as anyone else.
"I'm sorry," Luigi said again. "Let's just make a run for it."
Bowser reached behind him and grabbed the back of his overalls, hoisting him into the air like a toy in a claw machine. Luigi heard himself squeak, then he was thrown back into the cage Bowser just left.
The door clanged shut, and Luigi’s heart sunk into his shoes. He was locked up. Just like Bowser had been, behind bars in a burning building, soon to be abandoned. Okay, they’d forgotten him, but did it really deserve this? Did Luigi really deserve to die over it?
He saw Bowser bend over next to the cage, grip the bars with one hand, and then he picked the whole thing up off the platform. Luigi toppled over onto the side, then back again as Bowser balanced the cage on his shoulder. What was he doing?
They turned back and forth. Luigi could see the fire creeping toward all the doors now. If they ran, and rolled as soon as they got outside - but the ceiling was still falling in too.
Bowser turned completely around, facing the back wall now. There was a small door near the middle, but the rest of it was nothing but windows. There was no safe path unless…
“No,” Luigi said, softly.
Bowser chuckled, and charged straight ahead.
For a few horrible seconds Luigi was aware of nothing but the smoke-filled air rushing past him as the wall got closer and closer. Glass shattered around them as Bowser kicked out a window and leapt through the frame, cage and all.
Bumping, rolling, and finally stillness. Luigi took a deep breath of still-smoky but much cooler air. He was tempted to scream. It wouldn’t accomplish much at this point, but it would make him feel better.
He yelped, at least, as the cage was picked up again. The door popped open and the box turned, and Luigi was shaken out onto the ground like the last penny in a piggy bank.
“Ow,” Luigi said.
“Wimp,” Bowser said. But his tone was light, and when Luigi looked up he saw him smiling.
He chucked the cage back over his shoulder, where it landed on the ground with a heavy thud and a gouge driven into the dirt. After a moment’s consideration Bowser threw the key in the same general direction, then turned back toward the expo hall, folding his arms and watching it slowly burn.
“This science expo thing’s more fun than I thought,” he said. “Maybe I’ll have one.”
Abruptly, he leaned over Luigi, really blocking out the sun this time. They were all alone out here, Luigi realized. Everyone else had evacuated out the other side of the building. If Bowser wanted to do anything to him, there was nobody to stop it.
But… he wasn't. And he hadn't. Right now he was just staring at Luigi with something like confusion on his face.
"You break anything?" Bowser said.
"No…" Luigi said. He'd been thrown around a lot, but he was used to that now. He probably wouldn't even bruise.
Carefully, Luigi climbed to his feet and brushed off any bits of broken glass or charred wood that had stuck to his clothes. Bowser quickly scrubbed a hand through his hair to do the same.
"Grazie- I mean, thank you for getting us both out," Luigi said.
Bowser rolled his eyes. "Don't do that. It's gross."
"What, thank you?"
"Ugh," Bowser said, so that must have been it.
Was that not what he'd been waiting for, then? Why did he keep looking at Luigi like that?
"Did you have to throw me in the cage, though?" Luigi asked.
Bowser shrugged. "That Poindexter said it was indestructible. You're not fireproof or roofproof, so I figured it'd help. Or whatever." He frowned, slightly. "Roof-proof. Roof, proof. That's a hard one."
While Bowser seemed interested in the pronunciation of the word he'd just invented, the specifics of what he'd said were sinking in for Luigi.
"You… are fireproof," Luigi said slowly.
"Ye-up," Bowser said.
"And roofproof?"
"Dunno about that one, but I've survived bigger buildings than this falling on me."
"And the cage is indestructible."
"Yyyyup."
Luigi buried his face in his hands. "I didn't need to go back for you at all, did I?"
"Nope," Bowser said, almost cheerfully.
"I'm an idiot."
"I told you you were."
Luigi groaned.
He ignored the guffaw of laughter next to him, and the massive hand that slapped his back. It was only when Bowser muttered something that Luigi forced himself to look up again.
It had sounded like, "Not like I don't appreciate it."
"What?" Luigi said.
"Nothing, shut up."
"I didn't-"
"Shut up," Bowser repeated firmly, and turned away from him to watch the burning building once again. One of the windows collapsed inward, and Bowser pumped his fist and gave an only slightly forced cheer. "Whoo! Good one."
For a while they both stood there, Luigi regaining his breath, Bowser apparently entertained by destruction. Bowser had said not to thank him, had told him to shut up, but Luigi had this feeling like… he was more bark than bite right now.
“Welp, I’m out of here,” Bowser said after a moment. “Much as I’d like to stay and watch the fire work, I’m not letting anybody lock me up again.” He gave a low growl. “Had enough of that for a lifetime.”
“Ah… take care getting home.”
Bowser gave him another odd look. “I don’t get you.”
“Don’t you?”
“I didn’t need saving. I don’t need your niceties.”
“It’s not for you,” Luigi said, “it’s for me. I’m doing - and saying - these things because I’d feel wrong if I didn’t.”
Bowser shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t get you.” He took a step in the direction his airship had gone when the crew abandoned him. “But uh… grazie, or whatever.”
Luigi blinked. “Prego,” he said, automatically, but Bowser had already started moving.
He stood there, alone, watching Bowser leave with nothing but the crackling of the fire to accompany the thoughts swirling in his head. Did Bowser know he’d just thanked him? He must, right? Luigi had said it right afterward.
Come to think of it, he’d have expected Bowser to be offended that Luigi thought he needed rescuing. But he wasn’t. He returned the favor, thanked Luigi, and walked away without causing any more trouble.
Was Luigi losing his mind? Was this smoke inhalation?
“Luigi!” he heard his brother cry out, and turned around to see Mario running at full-tilt across the grass. He braced himself just in time for Mario to grab him in a bone-crushing hug. 
He knew he’d done the right thing, and he knew Mario would agree once he heard the story, but he still felt a little silly that he’d rushed into danger for the sake of someone who was danger-proof.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Luigi said. He glanced back over his shoulder, even though he knew Bowser was long gone.
Maybe that was it. Maybe so many people knew Bowser didn’t need rescuing that no one ever did it.
Maybe… Bowser had liked having a hero, for once.
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Spn Opinions That’ll Have Me Burned at the Stake Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo
I’m back and bitchier than ever. For reference, here’s part 1.
• Season 5 wasn’t that great.
• D*stiel isn’t real, it’s a sucky ship, and that confession scene was just the writers pandering to the rabid deancas fans cause they knew they were the only ones still watching the show lol. And they left it ambiguous enough that they could still say it was meant platonically if they needed to.
• I hate how they watered down both angels and demons post-season 5ish.
• I liked Ruby 1.0 better than Ruby 2.0.
• I hate Honey!Cas. They just did that cause they didn’t know where to take his story from there, needed him out of the way, and thought it would be funny. It was insulting.
• Jack should’ve been played by an actual child so everyone’s abuse of him would resonate with the audience for what it was (casual fans are brain dead and need to be spoon fed).
• Victor Henrikson deserved more time on the show.
• I said it in the last post, but Alex is way more interesting than Claire and should’ve been given the lead role in the wayward sisters storyline instead.
• Dean is canonically straight and for Christ sake if you guys wanted bi rep, there’s about a thousand other characters that are strongly coded or implied to be bisexual (including Sam!) but y’all didn’t focus on them because it wasn’t actually about representation, it was about making it more plausible for your dumb fetishised gay ship to actually happen (spoiler: it didn’t).
• Season 3 and Season 6 were some of the best ones, you guys just don’t have any taste.
• Claire is not Castiel’s daughter and saying she is erases Jimmy and insults her, and even Cas himself acknowledged that on the show.
• Castiel is canonically NOT gay and Misha constantly saying he is is annoying and airheaded. He’s been attracted to women IN THE SHOW and he’s not even really male, so calling him a Gay Man is reductive and just plain wrong. Also, it’s veeery sus that- given how bi/pan folks are even more underrepresented than gay people- that one of the rare times where the bi/pan label actually fits a character BETTER in CANON……. the allies and monosexuals adamantly reject it. Hm.
• “Curing” vampires or werewolves or demons shouldn’t have been a thing.
• The Winchesters cause most of the bad shit that happens and then they just force supernatural beings to fix it for them- tell me again how they’re Super Special Heroes.
• It shouldn’t be possible to make angels human by removing their grace, because (unlike demons, werewolves, etc) they were never human to start with. If you drained me of all my blood, I wouldn’t magically transform into another species, I’d fucking die.
• Making Billie go crazy was dumb.
• Rowena was one of the most interesting and charismatic characters on the whole show- they just didn’t know what to do with her character.
• The archangels, Lilith, and Azazel should’ve been the biggest threats on the show. No other knights of hell, no god and his sister, no Cain, nothing like that. Having every villain just get progressively more overpowered made the show unbelievable and repetitive and annoying.
• The kernel sanders king of hell guy was hot.
• Dean is misogynistic as HELL, homophobic, likes racist porn, is a narcissist, pervs on teen girls, & thinks all non-human people should be exterminated… and that is all CANON.
• Most of John Winchester’s abuse is fanon.
• Fans portraying Cas as a smol bby who colours in colouring books and has a bee plushie is so fucking annoying.
• Instead of having so many gigantic cosmic storylines with god and his sister and alternate dimensions and even the angel and demon tablets, they should’ve just scrapped those and made the stein family and the bmol and the alpha vampire storylines way bigger than they were. Less cosmic stuff, more earth-based stuff.
• They ruined Lucifer’s character post-season 5. Before that, he was more sympathetic and reasonable than Michael. After, he was a spoiled child hurting people for fun.
• Everything from season 7 on is garbage. All of it. There’s bits of goodness here and there but overall seasons 7-15 are trash.
• How the fuck are there actual people who are deangirls and hate Sam?? The space where your brain should be is empty, I swear to god.
• If there was gonna be any lgbt rep in the Wayward Sisters group, it should’ve been Jody and Donna instead of Claire and Kaia. Those two were boring as hell and had zero chemistry or build-up, but Jody/Donna had plenty of chemistry and was very believable.
• Meg has the best and most realistic redemption arc of anyone on the show.
• Chuck was not likeable or charismatic enough to carry off as big of a villain arc as they gave him. Also that whole thing was stupid and WAY too Out There.
• All the angels should’ve been aroace. All the demons should’ve been pan.
• I stanned Cole so hard up until he changed his mind about hating Dean. That was disappointing.
• Sam went through the same shitty childhood Dean did (plus Bonus Abuse on top of it) and he didn’t turn out Like That.
• I cannot think of a single person that was asking for a spin-off about the Winchester family, like that has to be the most boring thing.
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syndxlla · 11 months
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best friends don’t look at each other the way we do
A low stakes, high reward and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between both and totk
Chapter Six: This is Home
Read chapter five here
My masterlist
Song: Run To You by Leah Michele
Summary: Link is brought on to investigate a new strange monster plaguing the farmers in Hateno. He is faced with a new type of post-traumatic experience he doesn’t expect to have.
Warnings: canon-typical violence, suspense and horror, PTSD, squint and theres very base-line sexual content, GRAPHIC descriptions of animal mutilations!
Word Count: 3.5k words
Authors Note: I didn’t update for two and a half months and said “lemme give you guys the best chapter yet” (imo). Thank you for being patient with me. I restarted school, closed one musical, opened and closed a 30 performance long run of another musical and literally fell in love with a man 16-years-older than me in that time lol. Also I wrote this in one sitting and I’m starting chapter 7 now 🫡. Its unedited be nice.
Also please do not make fun of me for using a Leah Michele song for this chapter its so good and it works really good so just shut up. Kloveyoubye
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The summer starts to get hotter. A week passes and nothing changes, neither of them ever address the hand holding, Link is fixing the hole in the roof and Zelda is reteaching herself how to fix a clock, an activity she originally learned at the age of seven. Everything is so normal, the sun starts to set a little later, and the fireflies have started hatching.
Link never really thought he would end up in a position to do housework. He tried to get Bolson to fix the hole before Link bought it, but it would take a certain number of wood piles and when Link went out to get them he got a little distracted. And by distracted he means ending the sandstorm in the desert caused by the Divine Beast. It just got put on the back burner, and now here he is, using basic tools to hammer in new shingles. He wipes his brow, his shirt off again. He takes a look at the hammer in his hand, thinking about the savage Lynel sword that same hand has swung.
The passage of time is weird.
Maybe he does want to go back to work. Going from Demon slayer to roof repairman in two and a half weeks is a little jarring.
He hears a groan of frustration from inside the house, and makes his way inside, where it's much cooler.
“Everything alright?” He asks, looking at the girl who’s hunched over the kitchen table.
“No, this is absurd.” She slams the machine on the kitchen table. “I can’t remember how to do the most basic thing in engineering ever.” She frowns.
Link chuckles and places a dirty hand on her shoulder as he walks past her. He moves to the water basin and wets a cloth that he wraps around his neck. “I don’t know the first thing about that stuff, so you have me beat.” He shrugs. “Man, what I would give for an hour at Lurelin right now. Or better yet a weekend at Tabantha. I bet the weather there is a comfortable 60 degrees.” He sighs. Trying to slyly put the worm in Zelda’s ear about a possible trip.
Zelda groans, “I agree. I don’t remember it getting this hot.”
“This is just the beginning, wait until it’s the midsummer festival.”
“A festival?” Zelda’s face lights up.
Link nods, “It’s something they started about thirty years ago. It’s right here in Hateno. People from all parts of the kingdom will travel for it.” Link drinks some water, leading against the counter at the hip. Zelda makes special effort not to admire how his obliques curved. “There’s music and dancing, it’s quite fun. I was invited last year as a special guest. The “chosen hero” or something like that.” Link shrugs.
At that moment they hear a sharp knock on their door. It startles both of them. Link moves to answer it, setting the rag and cup down.
“Dantz, what is it?” Link says as he opens the door to a distressed farmer.
“Master Link, so good to see you,” His voice is shaky, “I didn’t know who else to go to.” Link listens more intently, Zelda even stands. “Two more of my cattle have been killed. When I heard you were back in town I knew you could help me. I don’t know who—or what—is killing them, but it's not a moblin. It’s something darker.” He’s speaking a mile a minute.
“Slow down,” Link stops him, “When did this happen?”
“In the night, I came here as soon as I could. They were covered in something… unnatural. Please, Link.”
Link turns back to look at Zelda. “Stay here.”
“What? No. I’ll come with you!” She moves to him and Link stops her. If this is anything like what Cado saw at the castle, he didn’t want her to be anywhere near it.
Link completely turns around and puts his hands on her shoulders, “Zelda, you cannot.” He stays sternly.
“Why? You don’t have to baby me. I can help you.”
“Zel-“
“I’m better! Please don’t leave me-“ Before she finishes the sentence she’s falling back down, like she was going to faint again. She had gotten herself worked up and now her heart was weary again. Link catches her before she falls, her knees knocking together.
“Oh, Goddess.” Dantz says. “Should I help?” He asks and Link snaps, telling him ‘no’ a little too forcefully.
“Zel, come on, let's get you to bed.” He wraps her arm around his shoulder. “Dantz, I’ll be there within the hour. I’m sorry.” Link says in a calmer tone.
“I understand, Link.” He nods and turns to leave.
Zelda can’t get up the stairs and Link picks her up, carrying her up to her room. He places her in bed as she starts to cry.
“Hey, hey it’s okay.” He brushes her hair out of her face. She takes his hand.
“No. It’s not.” She replies. “Stop telling me it’s okay.” She groans. “It’s ridiculous that I can’t do anything without this happening.” It was the second time this week.
“I have to go help them.” His hand is held back by her, but she eventually lets it go.
He turns to leave her, pulling his green tunic over his messy hair, and getting ready for combat. He isn’t even anticipating a fight, but he wants to be ready. He puts his gloves on, and straps both his sword and shield to his back. He even gets his bow ready because he has no idea what it might be. It sounds serious.
It’s the first time he’s been entirely suited-up since the castle. He forgot how natural it feels. He forgot how much he felt like himself.
Zelda has gotten up and stands at the railing of the loft. “Be careful.” She says in a weak voice.
Link looks up at her, he wants to stay here with her and hold her and let her know that it's going to be okay. “Please rest.”
He walks out the door.
The cattle are lying dead in the corner of the pasture. Flies buzz around them. Dantz and Link examine the scene, a pit in both their stomachs.
“What could it be?” Dantz asks.
Link crouches down, getting a closer look. The gunk is a deep maroon color, almost like malice but thinner, almost like a glossy serum as opposed to a thick slime. Link takes a risk and touches a bit of it that was strewn across the grass, rubbing it between his fingers. It didn’t seem to hurt him the way malice did. He sniffs it, it’s rotten and foul. He gags almost immediately. Link wipes his hand off in the grass.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” He admits. “And I’ve seen a lot.” This was only confirming his worst fears.
“The other ones that were killed were left like this too.” Dantz explains, “There isn’t even any meat taken out of them, only their eyes are gouged out.” He points out.
“Whatever is killing them is doing it for sport.” Link stands back up and folds his arms. “This is bizarre, I must say.” It was starting to be late afternoon, he still had a few hours of sunlight. “What did you do with the other ones that were killed?” Link asks.
“We tried to clean them up and butcher them for food. But the meat inside was rotten, like it was poisoned under the skin.”
Link hears a giggle from behind them and turns around to see the two daughters of the rancher watching them from behind a post. When he catches them staring they both hide.
“How old are your girls?” He asks.
“Siva is eighteen and Catli is sixteen.” Dantz replies. “They are my pride and joy, I can’t let anything bad happen to them.”
Link advances towards them, “Girls.” He smiles, charming as ever. They both sneak out from behind the post, sheepish and giddy. The older steps forward.
“You’re the hero.” She puts her hands behind her back. Link nods.
“Can you girls show me the edge of your property?” He asks, wanting to test a theory. They both happily nod and start to lead him, he notices especially how Siva looks at him as she walks by. She was very agreeable: long, dark and curly hair and alluring eyes. He follows them. They take him past the fence and through the forest, the younger chatting and asking questions about his quests and whatnot. He just smiles and nods, answering with basic “yes’” or “no’s”.
Link’s theory starts to prove right, he sees a set of two acorns on the ground, then a pair of two foot tracks, and eventually, at the end of the property, where two songbirds lay dead at the bottom of a tree, both covered in the same strange goop. Whatever this is, it’s looking for things in pairs. Like two sisters.
Link would never imagine putting these girls in danger, and would send them home in about an hour or two when it started to get dark, he just wanted to lure out whatever was killing with a pair.
He sat down at the base of a tree, and listened as the girls talked themselves up, clearly competing with one another for who can be the most impressive to the hero. Link decides to let them have their fun, it’s not like he was getting this attention from Zelda.
Zelda.
She’s all he could think about. He listens to the girls for a full hour, but doesn’t comprehend a word they’re saying because all he can do is think about the woman he left at home. He wishes he hadn’t left her home, she’s probably sad and lonely. Or maybe she isn’t, perhaps she’s enjoying some alone time. He doubted it, though. He was sure she was fuming at him for just leaving her, for going in such a rush. Proximity can cause problems, maybe this was good for them.
Link must have zoned out because all of a sudden the younger sister was gone, and he was left alone with Siva. This was dangerous territory.
“Where did your sister go?” He asks, clearly uncomfortable.
“Oh! I told her to go get her tapestry to show you! Of course.” Siva says in a tone that was a little too flirty for Link’s liking. She sits next to him, facing him. Link knew the look on her face, and he knew he should stand up and put an end to whatever was about to happen. “Because you know… now we’re alone.” She sighs and leans in.
Stop. Stop. Stop. He tells himself but doesn’t move, he lets her place her lips on his.
Link is not an experienced kisser. He’s had a few drunken nights in the last three years where he ended up in a Gerudo’s bedchamber or a stable-workers hideout, and while those were all agreeable experiences, he’s never actively sought them out. It was always nice to get the tension from his journey off, though.
Link makes the mistake of kissing her back, and she’s sighing into his touch and he’s pulling her in. Being alone with a woman he’s been in love with for three years and not being able to touch her or talk to her the way he wants to has left him with a lot of pent up energy, it felt good to get it out.
Link puts his fingers through her hair, and starts to kiss down her jawline and neck and she’s letting out the prettiest little sounds.
And then he starts to think about Zelda. The sounds Zelda would make, the feeling of her hair intertwined in his fingers, how her lips would feel against his…
Zelda.
Zelda.
“Zelda.” He sighs, and then Savi is pulling away.
“Hm?” She asks, and Link is dazed and confused, thinking with anything other than his brain. He doesn’t know how long they were kissing because suddenly it's much darker outside, and if Dantz caught them like this, Link would be the one hunted down and killed, not whatever monster is out there.
Link immediately feels stupid, this was a rookie mistake. He shouldn’t have let it happen.
“What?” He responds to her, and then out of the corner of his eye, he sees something run behind the tree. “Shit.” He jumps up. “You need to go. Right now.” He pushes her back towards the house. It wasn’t far, she’d be okay. “Please don’t tell anyone about this.”
She nods, also remembering their reason for being out here. She runs back home and Link shakes his head, trying to refocus. He sees it again, it’s fast, moving from tree to tree, but further away. Link grunts and starts to slowly follow it. He isn’t sure if it saw him. It’s tall, and it’s dark. He would guess it’s a Moblin by its size but it's much too fast to be a moblin. Perhaps a wizzrobe? But he could hear its feet on the grass. Link starts the stalk, prowling towards it like a predator.
He doesn’t think it knows he’s following, because he’s able to follow it halfway up Madorna Mountain before he accidentally steps on a branch that snaps loudly. Again, a rookie mistake. Link was out of practice, rusty. He silently curses himself for that. The beast turns around to look at Link, but he’s able to hide behind an oak tree. It was still a little light out, and the lights from down were getting smaller and smaller as they worked their way up the mountain.
Link stayed vigilant. It’s been a long time since he’s had to fight a new enemy, and he wasn’t sure how powerful this was going to be. It gets quiet, he doesn’t hear it move. Even with Link’s impaired hearing, he had a knack for the details, but not today, not now. A cricket chirps but it’s silenced halfway through its sound. The wind goes still. A cloud covers the moon.
He girds up, and moves from behind the tree to keep following it, but he’s met with a horrific sight.
The creature is standing there, about six feet away from Link.
It startles him. He’s met with a feeling of dread.
It’s tall, probably seven feet. It’s hunched down, a humanoid-sort of beast that looks like a shadow covered in the same maroon gloop as the animals.
Link freezes up, he is paralyzed with fear because he knows exactly what it is.
He knows who it is.
It opens its eyes, those awful, yellow, glowing eyes. He chuckles at Link and it fills his skull. It wasn’t quite human, like it was a pile of goo that was regaining its strength and slowly rebuilding itself into a human. Into a phantom.
They stare at one another, his laughter taunts Link. Link can hear his heartbeat in his ears. His palms start to sweat. He is met with the images of three weeks ago. The battle, the castle, the evil.
Ganon.
Or at least some form of him.
He doesn’t move, he just laughs at Link. The boy swallows, and he wants to run, but he rolls his shoulders back.
“Courage and Bravery are two different things.” Zelda’s words ring in his memory.
He grabs his sword.
The Master Sword unsheathes with a light ring, and it glows in the darkness.
In an instant, the monster is screeching and howling like a Lynel and melting away from the light of the sword. The pure power of the holy blade made the beast slowly melt into the ground, like an ice cube in the desert. It covered its eyes, and screlted into the forest, echoing no doubt into town.
Link walked closer to it, waving the blade, spinning it in his hand until the creature was completely put away.
Whatever that was, it isn’t very strong. It will surely get stronger, though. Link had a feeling this was not the end of it. It left behind a puddle of goop. Link’s stomach dropped when he realized why it was killing for sport and in pairs of two. It was probably seeking Him and Zelda. Unable to differentiate what living things were hylian and what was cattle or animals. The stealing of the eyes surely had something to do with it regaining its strength, but what?
How did it know to come look in Hateno already?
After sheathing the sword and thanking the Goddess, Link took a moment to bury the secretment. He still felt sick to his stomach. Why did he freeze up like that?
Maybe that final battle had more of an effect on him than he thought.
He heads home, explaining to Dantz what had happened and what he saw, sugar-coating it a little and just saying it was a ghost. Link wasn’t sure how long it would stay away for, but hopefully long enough he could talk to Impa about it. Clearly the Master Sword was protecting him. He made a special effort to avoid Savi.
When he gets home, he drops his equipment off, pulling his gloves and boots off and leaving it all in his little corner downstairs. He pulls his shirt off. He would sleep out with Epona again tonight, he would need to to avoid the nightmares. His Mare had that effect on him. The feeling of safety and home.
Zelda was asleep, snoring lightly in her bed. He stayed quiet and went to sit at the table, grabbing a baked apple to silence his rumbling stomach. Guilt washed over him as he remembered what he did today. Savi came onto him, but he knows he shouldn’t have let that happen. He was ashamed of his conduct.
The laughter of the phantom rang in his ears. Flashes of its grin and glowing eyes projected in his mind. He felt ill.
Link disassociated. He sat at the table for three hours and it went by in minutes.
What snaps him out of it are the screams of terror he hears from upstairs.
His mind immediately jumps to the worst possible situation. He grabs the master sword and sprints upstairs. He sees nothing but a scared girl, crying from a nightmare.
“Zelda, what is it?” He asks, setting the sword town and running to her. He kneels by her bed and takes her hand. “I’m here, what’s wrong.” He whispers.
“You’re here?”
“I’m here.”
“B-but. The guardian, it got you. It killed-”
“It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real.” Link reassures her. “I’m here, breathing, alive as ever.”
Zelda shakes her head, she’s clearly so traumatized that she cannot differentiate dream from reality anymore, she probably thinks him saying that is the dream.
“Here, feel.” He grabs her hand and places it against his chest where his heart is. “Feel that?” He asks, “Bum-bum. Bum-bum.” He whispers. “That’s my heart. Its pumping, it's beating.” Zelda sobs and he pulls her into his chest. “It’s okay, I got you. I’m here.”
He holds her for a moment and then stands up, “I’ll get the stool if it will help you sleep.” He turns to go.
“Stay with me.” She asks, tears wetting his collarbone.
“I’ll be right here, I’ll grab the stool.” He says.
“No, stay with me.” She says, and gestures to the bed.
“What?”
“Please. I cannot sleep without you by my side. I’m too afraid I’m going to lose you again.” She sniffles.
“Zelda I can’t-“
“Why?” She asks. “Because of decorum? Because I’m royal? Because you don't want to get caught?” She picks up her hands ‘None of that matters anymore’ she signs.
Link nods, “Are you sure?”
“Please.” She pleads.
Link moves back to her, trying to control his racing heart. Zelda scoots over to she’s closer to the wall, and Link carefully crawls into the covers of the bed. There wasn’t a ton of room, there would be no way for them to lay in the bed without being in full contact. “Is this okay?” He asks as he pulls the covers up.
She nods.
“Hold me?” She asks.
Link looks at her and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to kiss her. He nods and lays his head down, his chest facing up. He pulls her into his chest, wrapping his left arm around her shoulders and his right arm over his stomach to her waist. She tries to control her breathing, and it gets easier as their hearts begin to sync up.
Link wants to cry too, because this is the safest he has felt in a hundred and three years. This is the most at home he has ever been. He mentally-pinches himself because he’s sure he’s dreaming. But he doesn’t wake up, in fact, he starts to fall into the deepest sleep he’s ever had.
Every muscle in his body starts to relax, his eyes get heavy, and the scent of the girl on his chest fills his dreams with images of fairy forests and gentle ocean waves and the time of day when the sun moves into twilight.
This is home.
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connorsnothereeither · 3 months
Note
I dont know if youve talked about this before, but if not, how did you come up with some of your characters' names?
I’ve talked about it before for Ulysses here in this post but not some of the others!! But I would love to I shake their names about!!
Virgil Coronis (Sky Bound SMP)
So Virgil went through a lot of potential names. He was built up vibes-first in development, so I had my gothic, conspiracy librarian, and no names. I wanted something that sounded more sharp, and angular. Crow-like.
I went for some classic gothic literature names to start. Jonathan (for Jonathan Harker from Dracula), Percival/Percy (for Percy Shelly), and Auguste (from Poe’s The Murders in the Rue Morgue), along with some others were all potential candidates. By then, however, @jamphibiann had already chosen Pietro, and so I looked for some other Italian names to match since we were playing brothers. Romeo, and Salvatore were somewhat higher contenders then!
Landing on Virgil was actually sort of stolen from @venear-tmblr . When throwing around potential names, one of the ones that didn’t make the cut for him was Dante. And while Dante didn’t quite fit the character I had in my mind, Virgil definitely did! It had Latin/Italian roots, and felt angular and distinctly raven-like to me! :D
“Coronis” as a last name is actually an ancient Greek word, which is both referring to the curved flourish in old handwriting, and is same root word (corone) for the Greek for crows or ravens, referring the curvature of their beaks! So it felt very fitting too.
Leopold Haust (Terramortis)
Leopold was honestly… kind of a silly one. He never had any alternate names. I knew he was going to be from the 1920s, so I wanted a vaguely old-timey name, which fit the vibe, but could still be shortened into something more modern and easy to quickly say. And, at the time, I was reading Ulysses by James Joyce as a joke… and “Leopold” is the name of the Odysseus/Ulysses counterpart in that novel. So it just sort of… ticked all the boxes lol. It wasn’t supposed to be connected to Ulysses at all, but it jumped out at me as a perfect name for the character I had created. Haust was just a made up name that sounded like it matched well when spoken allowed!
D’Hakth’rkael “Daniel Thorns” Thoricht (Cantripped)
So Dan was… interesting name wise. I had the “bit” in mind long before I came up with the name. I was somewhat inspired by a lot of people I know or grew up knowing, who would have long, intricate names, and would shorten it to just like,,, “Mike”. But mostly I was inspired from the “folk hero” angle of how through Christianisation and colonisation, Celtic mythology names were super worn down into common, short Anglican names. Things like “Cú Cuhlainn”/“Conochubar” or “Fionn mac Cumhail” being worn down to names like Connor or Finn. I also just love when folklore figures have what feel like really mundane names, with a descriptor or trait. “Robin Hood”, “Jack Frost”, etc. it’s very English folktale to me.
For a while I wanted to play with “Tom” of “Jack” but for whatever reason “Dan” just stood out to me as a very mundane feeling name (and to be fair, Dan does go by Jack sometimes… in some places… just nowhere we’ve been yet…). So Dan Thorns came first, and I worked backwards from there.
From “Daniel Thorns” it was basically just a process of mashing fantasy sounds together until they sounded like a name. Thoricht felt like a believable evolution of “Thorns”, and could still pass as a human name. “D’Hakth” came next; I liked the juxtaposition of sounds, and the ways you could linguistically interpret it, taking it in a D, H, Y, or even J direction. The final part, “rkael” was mostly just for flavour. I started looking into vengeance Paladin, “avenging angel” imagery for Dan for a while, felt biblical, and I really liked the vaguely biblical feel it brought to the name, while adding another layer of “oh that’s why he just goes by Dan” akgakag
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skyward-floored · 11 months
Text
Whumptober Day 20: Found family, Blanket
*shuffles feet*
...in my defense, I almost entirely finished this yesterday, I just wasn’t about to go trying to edit and post it at like 11:30 at night (though this note probably would have been a lot more interesting if I had lol).
Anyway. Continuation to day 17! I apologize for the delay and hope the wait was worth it 😓
Day 17
Read on ao3
Warnings: same as day 17, injuries, torture mentions, a short nightmare, just bad times for Twilight
————————————————————
Getting out was a blur.
Link forced himself to stay awake as the leader of the heroes (had he even said his name? ...If he had he couldn’t remember) carried him, but focusing on much of anything was difficult. The ever-present pain weighed him down like a heavy load, old scars and new injuries adding endless layers of suffering, and even just being carried in someone’s arms was agony.
There was the leftover burn from the magic too— though the chains that had secured him were gone, the manacles were still on his wrists and the collar was still around his neck, and they ached, his whole body still shaking from the ordeal of removing the chains.
It was a struggle not to just pass out.
But the part of him that still screamed not to trust stay on alert be prepared for him to come back was stronger. It had been honed from countless jarring awakenings, pain ripping him back from already restless sleeps, and so he stayed awake, no matter how badly he wanted to rest.
The man holding him shifted his grip as he went up some stairs, and Link felt his breath hitch as some of his injuries were nudged. The man whispered an apology, and gently squeezed one of the few spots of skin that didn’t have an open wound on it.
Link flinched anyway.
The touch immediately retreated, and Link was torn between being relieved and crying at the loss of it.
Part of him still expected them to suddenly turn on him, the kind touches becoming bruising ones, gentle hands turned to claws and knives. But... he also craved it. He desperately wanted somebody to pat him on the shoulder and hug him and run their hand through his hair, but any of the touch he’d received so far had been like torture.
He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a touch that didn’t involve pain in some way. He could barely stomach it now, no matter how well-meaning, and he hated it.
Was there anything left the Shadow hadn’t taken from him?
Voices suddenly rang down the hall, and Link stiffened, straining his ears to try and figure out who— or what they were.
One of the other heroes who’d gotten him out (the one with the Master Sword, he thought. He really needed names) called out, and soon there were unfamiliar faces and words being exchanged and questions directed at him and all he could do was close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden amount of people surrounding him.
How many were there?
“... got Legend pretty bad, but we beat him off and he disappeared,” a polished voice spoke, and Link twitched an ear his direction. What was he talking about? A legend?
“I’m fine,” a sharper voice cut in, and Link thought it seemed younger then the other one. “You didn’t need to use that fairy, that was our last one!”
“Well what was I supposed to do?”
“Save it for the reason we came here in the first place! He’s way more injured than I was!”
“Legend,” a softer voice spoke up, sounding exasperated, “...you were pretty bad. And you know we don’t take chances with injuries caused by the Shadow.”
A sick feeling abruptly surged over Link at the name, along with an intense hatred and fear and horror and too many emotions for his mind to handle at the moment. Link’s breath stuttered against his will, and the man holding him frowned.
“You don’t think the Shadow is still here, do you?” The small hero with the colorful tunic asked, and the voices paused.
“Probably... not,” Link croaked, and they all looked at him.
He swallowed.
“Do you know where he is?” a man in a deep blue scarf asked, and Link exhaled, gathering his strength.
“No,” Link managed to get out, and the voices stayed quiet. “Probably not. But he usually... usually powered ‘self before... fights.”
“...powered himself?” a younger voice asked in an anxious tone, and Link closed his eyes again. Hadn’t they known? Or at least figured it out based on what they’d seen?
All he was was a battery.
“Thank you Link, I’m sorry we brought it up,” the leader apologized, and Link made a noncommittal noise. “We’re almost out, hold on.”
They began moving again, and Link caught several people looking at him, though most of them stopped when they realized he’d noticed. A teenager with a stripe of pink in his hair didn’t though, and Link found himself staring, curious about the look of him. He gave him an awkward little nod, and Link tried to return it, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
They were all so different, were these really heroes like him?
The Shadow had mentioned other heroes once or twice, but Link usually had no clue what he was talking about, or if he did, refused to say anything.
Besides, he was usually too busy screaming to listen anyhow.
Something bright shone out of the corner of his eye, and Link turned to look at it, his heart speeding up at the sight of a large entryway. The group hurriedly went through it, and Link was almost blinded from how bright it was after they walked through.
He blinked furiously, needing to see what was going on, and finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around in shock.
Sunlight.
Faint, barely-there, dim autumn sunlight that struggled to shine through the trees, but the sight of it nearly made Link sob.
He was outside.
He could see sunlight shining through yellow and orange leaves, eventually joined by the sound of birds and other creatures as they went along, air that wasn’t stale rushing past his face and making all his injuries hurt more but he didn’t care a bit.
He was out.
He was crying he realized, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all.
It wasn’t a trick. He’d never gotten this far the few times he’d been brought out, they were really who they said they were, they must be, and they’d gotten him out of the darkness.
Someone might’ve said something to him, but the overwhelming sensation of being outside had finally pushed Link to his limit, and he gave up on his fight to stay awake.
Darkness swept him away, it’s touch more gentle then he’d felt in a long time.
(...)
The heroes didn’t stop traveling until they were plenty far away from the oppressive ruins where they’d found Link, the trip passing in almost complete silence.
Link had passed out in Time’s arms not long after they’d finally exited, tears on his face, and Time couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved.
Watching Link remain in an almost stubborn state of alertness, ears twitching towards any sound, flinching when Time adjusted him, had been agonizing to watch. His body desperately needed rest, but he’d been stubbornly refusing it until they were out.
He’s certainly one of us, no doubt about that, Time thought with a sigh.
Sky grabbed a bedroll the moment they found a safe place to stop, and Time carefully lowered Link onto it, trying to avoid any injuries. He had several on his back, but they set him down as softly as possible, and Link didn’t wake.
“That’s really him?” Wind asked in a small voice as Warriors moved over to carefully look over all of Link’s injuries, cursing under his breath more than once.
“This is him,” Time replied quietly, trying to clean some of the blood and dirt out of Link’s hair. Now that they were out of the ruins, it was even more obvious how badly Link was in need of being cleaned up and cared for, and Time focused on not being overwhelmed by the task.
What all did he go through in there?
“What happened to him?” Legend said in a voice full of quiet horror, and Wild harshly kicked a rock into a tree.
“What didn’t?” he bit out in a fragile voice, and Sky put a hand on his arm, saying something that Time didn’t catch.
Warriors accidentally brushed a hand against Link’s collarbone then, and his eyes shot open, nearly throwing himself backwards away from the touch.
“Get away!” he snarled, voice hoarse, and Warriors immediately backed up.
“Whoa, easy,” Warriors quickly reassured, putting his hands up. “I’m only checking which of your injuries need to be cleaned so we can give you a potion. We don’t want anything healing inside them.”
Link glared at him in suspicion, but when Time moved into his line of sight, he relaxed a little.
“He’s helping, Link, I promise,” he reassured, and Link slowly relaxed, though he remained awake. Time glanced around at the other heroes as Warriors finished his examination, and saw that most of them were either looking at Link, or pointedly not looking at him as they worked on setting up camp.
It seemed none of them were quite certain how to deal with seeing one of their own in such a state.
Wild came over when he noticed Time watching them all, and he looked at Link, uncertainty on his face.
“Can I help at all?” he asked, voice stronger then it had been, and Time looked over at Warriors.
“These all need to be cleaned, and it’s not going to be easy for him,” the captain reported quietly, looking over his chest. “The faster we can get it done the better.”
“Link, we need to clean you up before we can heal you,” Time said as he knelt at his side, and Link gave him a bleary look. “It won’t be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”
Link breathed out and nodded, looking up at Time with shadows under his eyes.
“Go ahead,” he whispered.
Time gave him a faint smile, and Wild knelt beside him as they got to work.
It took a long time scrubbing all of the dirt out and disinfecting the injuries Link was coated in. They focused on cleaning the actual wounds, but Time knew Link would need the rest of himself cleaned up at some point, dirt and blood and all sorts of grime coated on his skin.
But that can wait.
Link was stiff throughout the entire process, trembling when they got to certain injuries, and trying not to cry out when they used the alcohol Warriors had provided to disinfect. The worst part was his face, which Time carefully washed up, but Link was nearly in tears by the time he finished cleaning the slice that cut right through the dark lines on his forehead.
But they finally finished, and Link sagged, his breathing shaking. Hyrule came forward then, and offered to heal him, and Link gave him a curious look.
“It’s a healing spell, it’ll be more thorough than a potion,” he explained. He faintly lit up his hands to demonstration, but Link immediately recoiled from the light.
“No, no n-no magic!” Link breathed, a flicker of terror in his eyes.
Hyrule immediately backed off, and Link’s cheeks flushed as he calmed down.
“I... I’m sorry, I-I...”
“No, I understand, that’s okay,” Hyrule said kindly, and Link swallowed and looked away, cheeks still red.
“Potions will be enough,” Time said peaceably, and Hyrule took out a few, handing them to Time. Though a fairy or healing spell would be preferable. “Take it slow, Link.”
Sky helped him carefully sit Link up, and Time helped him drink the entire red potion, slowly so as not to overwhelm his stomach. He eagerly sipped at it, and the most intense of his injuries began to knit closed, angry lines and deep gouges, and places that must be barely healed-over stab wounds—
Time exhaled, and lowered Link back to the ground as he finished, anger stirring in his chest.
The Shadow will pay for this.
“Try and get some more rest, Link. You’re safe with us,” Time said gently as he set the bottle aside, and rested a careful hand on Link’s.
He flinched, but after a long moment, slowly gripped it back. His hand shook as Time brushed his thumb over the dirtied triangles on the back, but he didn’t let go, even though Time knew holding on was hard.
You’re safe.
(...)
The next few days trickled by slowly, Link struggling to adjust to life not imprisoned in a hole being used as some sort of dark power source.
His injuries were healing, albeit slowly due to the sheer amount of them, but he was struggling more with the other scars his imprisonment had left him. He still couldn’t handle much touch, or large amounts of food, and he’d rarely sleep for long periods of time, waking up sweating and shaking from memories he hadn’t told the rest of them about yet.
Four made it his personal mission to remove the collar and bands from around his neck and wrists, since all they did was serve as a reminder for all them of the torture he’d endured.
Link wanted them off more than anyone, and he patiently sat through all of Four’s attempts at removal. The smithy finally succeeded with the help of some of Legend’s items and tools, Link nearly crying with relief at them gone, but the pale scars underneath the metal were almost worse.
They couldn’t be removed.
Time tried his best to help Link adjust, but it was hard when he could only give them the bare minimum of what he’d endured, and stubbornly tried to insist he was fine and they didn’t need to fuss over him. Even after he’d wake up gasping from a nightmare, Link would try to muffle his cries in order not to wake anyone, and couldn’t stand even a grounding hand on his shoulder.
It was at times like these Time wished Malon were here. She would know exactly how to comfort the traumatized boy they’d all found themselves with, better than Time ever could.
How do we help him, Malon? he thought one night as he studied Link’s slumbering face. His scars were harder to see in the dark, but Time knew they were there, slashed across his forehead, his chest... and his heart.
How did you ever handle me?
Time didn’t find any one answer, but as time slowly went by, Link did open up, at least a little. As they all explained more about themselves, he was willing to do so a bit too, explaining some of his journey, and telling the dark marks on his forehead actually weren’t a result of his imprisonment, though not exactly explaining what they were from.
His favorite thing to talk about was his home village though, and the longing in his voice was impossible to miss.
Time would have carried him there himself if it had been at all possible, but they were a long ways away from Ordon, and Link could barely walk across the clearing they were camped in without needing a rest. Taking him home would have to wait, as much as Time disliked it.
But in the meantime, the other heroes did their best to help Link as well, Wild figuring out what was easiest for him to eat, Warriors and Hyrule dutifully checking up on his injuries. Wind liked to tell him stories whenever he was struggling not to dwell on memories, sometimes getting Four to tell a few, and Legend even laid out his weapons and offered to let Link borrow one, until they could get him a sword of his own.
Sky often just let him hold the Master Sword, Link’s hands clutching the hilt as he sat in silence.
It seemed to comfort him, often when the rest of them couldn’t, and while Time couldn’t relate, he was glad it helped.
Time could also tell it was killing Sky not to be able to comfort Link with touch, at all, but Link was still working up to anything more then his hand being held. He would just have to do it at his own pace, as hard as it was to watch him struggle.
And things didn’t change in that regard, until all of a sudden they did.
(...)
Link closed his eyes as the tip of a blade pressed against his chin. He wouldn’t panic. This happened almost every day, and he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t give the Shadow the satisfaction of it.
“You’re not going to beg today?” he asked almost curiously, and Link licked his lips, tasting blood. “I might even listen, you never know.”
“I’ve never begged,” he said in a cold voice.
He wouldn’t stoop to that level, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. It was one of the few ways he felt like he had a choice in the matter, and he knew it made the Shadow mad when when he remained silent.
He wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction.
The Shadow leaned in so they were eye-to-eye, and Link stared at the crimson glow of his eyes, trying not to let his breath hitch.
“Well. Let’s see if we can change that, shall we?”
And then the blade flicked down, pain ripping across his chest. At at the same time the metal around his neck lit up like the lava on death mountain, burning into him, searing down the line where the sword had struck, and Link screamed as he felt magic bore into him and sap away every bit of his strength—
He woke up.
Link jerked upright, pain still blinding him, and he might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure. Darkness was around him, lit only by the Shadow’s glowing eyes and he knew it had all been a dream, he hadn’t been rescued after all and he was never going to get out—
Link breathed heavily, clutching at his neck, certain he could still feel the collar, magic burning into him, feel his strength ripped away as injuries were torn into his chest—
“Link,” a soft voice said, and he heaved in another breath, hands still pressed to his neck. “Link, you’re out, you’re safe.”
He managed to raise his head, and saw Time kneeling carefully beside him, a hand outstretched in a calming gesture.
He swallowed, breathing in another shaky breath, and looked around, slowly recognizing the campsite they’d been at for the past several days. The light he’d seen was the campfire, not the Shadow’s eyes, and he felt relief start to soak through the terror.
He wasn’t there. He wasn’t back.
His breath hitched, and Time moved closer to him, offering him a hand to take if he wanted it.
Link stared at it, then began to shake, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at everything again.
He was out. He wasn’t a prisoner. He was out and safe and he’d been there for so long but he was out but he wasn’t home but he was home, brothers he never knew he had saving him and their kindness made his chest ache because he’d done nothing to deserve it and despite waking them up and slowing them down and pushing away their help they kept coming back and he’d done nothing—
A sob broke out of him as the sheer scale of everything suddenly crashed down onto him, and Time’s eye widened.
Then he leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, put an arm around him.
Link’s breath hitched with another sob, stiffening as the touch settled across his back, but as Time tried to move, he clutched at his arm, silently begging him not to let go. The touch was like fire on his back, but it soothed a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been hurting so much.
Time hesitated as Link shuddered, then he lifted his other arm, pulling him into an actual hug, tight and warm.
That destroyed any composure Link had left, and he buried his face in Time’s shoulder, crying harder than he had in a long time. The touch all around him was awful and wonderful and agonizing and pure relief, and the sensation made him shake with how overwhelming it was.
“You’re okay,” Time whispered as Link fell to pieces in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, and Link’s breath hitched on another sob. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Link.”
Link had no clue as to the last time he’d received a hug, but this one, as messy and awful and painful as it was, was probably the best.
(...)
After that night, Link often found himself in a pile of heroes whenever he went to bed.
Wild would curl up at his side, Sky would end up with an arm flung out on top of him, Wind and Four by his head. Sometimes all of them would end up around him, and Link would nearly cry if he woke up and realized, falling back asleep more deeply then he had in months.
It was wonderful.
He was still struggling to get back on his own two feet, building his strength, still dealing with the fact that he’d always have the scars from his imprisonment, that he still sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night.
But he knew he’d have the others to support him, as hard as it was to let them. He still had moments where he’d push them away, when touch hurt instead of helped, when the thought of giving up crossed his mind, and didn’t seem like too bad of an option.
But he wouldn’t give up. Dark Link may have crushed him, but he wouldn’t be kept down, even though at times it seemed nearly impossible.
He would keep going.
And as Link leaned against Sky’s shoulder one night, Time’s arm over his shoulders, Wild and Four sitting leaned up against his feet while the others sat close by, it wasn’t nearly as hard to believe that he might be... okay.
Ordon would have to wait a bit longer, until he’d regained his strength, and could properly swing a sword, but until then...
A hand ran through his hair, and Link exhaled, the feeling of safety like a warm blanket around his shoulders.
...Link could wait.
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