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ghost-proofbaby · 10 months

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Can I request Back to December with Eddie?! and if you could make it kind of angsty 🫣🥹

back to december (eddie's version)

warnings: angsty. very, very angsty. hurt/no comfort.

wc: 2.6k+

a/n: fuck it we ball. i have nothing to say about this one. if it's trash, that's between me and god.

Love was never something that came easily to Eddie.

Maybe it was due to his upbringing, maybe he was another victim of circumstance, but love and him had always had a complicated relationship. It had left him scorned usually, a long line of failed situationships that trail behind him like ghosts of his pasts. Times he let bury themselves, relationships he’d get involved in knowing he’d never achieve the kind of love he’d seen in books and movies. Other people would talk about their small town romances, and he would only think of all the one night stands he’d subjected himself in which tore off a piece of himself every time he’d depart. He was the type of person to be used, to be drained of what fun the other participant could suck him dry of and then discarded for the next one. He wasn’t relationship material – he wasn’t love material.

Until you. And how unexpected you had been.

You, who was suddenly sitting in front of him in a coffee shop, hunched over your laptop and no doubt working on finishing up classwork for that degree you’d always talked about getting with him. You, who had been the exact opposite of someone Eddie would have ever anticipated falling for. You, who had never looked at him as something to use and to discard, but to have and to hold. You, the one (and possibly only) exception to everything he thought he knew.

You’re just as stunning as you had been on late summer afternoons in the passenger seat of his van. Same messy hair, same glowing eyes, same jestering lilt to your lips that seemed ever present even in the most serious of situations. Even with brows furrowed and new stress lines in your forehead, a slight pucker of your lips at whatever was on the screen in front of you and accentuated eyebags that hadn’t been there in your past life but now exist in the here and now, most likely a symptom of the long hours you’d always been willing to put in for the things you wanted – you still took his breath away, even now.

The first time you’d ever spoken to Eddie, he had considered it a cruel joke. You were beautiful, someone who entered the room and everyone just knew you were the smartest person there. Teachers loved you, others at the very least tolerated you if not admired you. It prodded at every insecurity he’d already harbored. All his fears of not being good enough, of being judged for his repeating years, of forever being doomed to be worn as a mark of shame rather than a badge of pride had been put in front of him with a pretty bow on top. You were something to show off. You were something good. But those wide eyes that had slowly pulled him in, had broken down all his defenses. He’d never stood a chance.

“Eddie?”

It’s not your voice, but that of the barista sitting down his order on the pickup counter. But his name still tears you from your concentration, and when you pale at the sight of him, he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he had been staring.

They have to call out his name a second time before he moves to grab the coffee, turning his back on you just as he had all those ages ago. His fight or flight kicks in; he doesn’t know whether it would be better to leave it as it is and hurry out of this coffeeshop with his tail between his legs, or if for once in his life, it was worth leaning into the discomfort. Instead of running from that crackling in his chest and all the hurt flooding him the same as that final time he’d seen you, maybe he should take a deep breath and dive right in.

Would you even recognize him as he recognized you? Would your soul see his as if for the first time all over again, and sadly smile with a whisper of, oh. There you are, again?

Or would you pretend to be strangers again? Would you pretend like all the history had faded to smoke and he was just some guy you’d bumped into at a cafe? Would you give him the honor of wiping his slate clean and just starting over, as if he’d never hurt you?

He had been an idiot when it came to you. A loser who had been handed a gift on a silver platter, and instead of cherishing it until the end of time, he’d ruined it. Ruined you.

The decision is made long before his palm wraps around the overly warm cup, and his feet carry him to your table before doubt would wrap its chords around his throat.

His chest flutters just like it had in the autumn when he’d first realized that how he felt for you was different. As the leaves of Hawkins had changed color, so had his feelings, turning their own brilliant and vibrant shades between him draping his leather jacket across your shoulders and the gentle kisses you’d wake him with before the sun even rose. Quiet and private moments between just the two of you that Hawkins had never bore witness to. Hazy afternoons spent under the guise of tutoring him in subjects like math and science bled into dinner dates at Benny’s, sharing milkshakes and him teaching you how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue.

He had loved you. He still loves you. And he’d been a fool, because it had never occurred to him that during those Autumnal months, more than just the leaves or just him had been falling.

Even the warmth of all your love that he had been blind to wasn’t enough to stave off the chill that had crept in by that December. Winter was cruel. You’d both learned that the hard way. One bad argument, one stormy night, and it had all fallen apart. He’d lost you — he’d lost that ray of sunshine in his life, the one thing that should have kept him warm through icey December nights. All over something that had started off over a disagreement of future plans and unraveled into an argument over differences.

His voice cracks as he stands before you, eyes wide as he says, “Hey.”

When you look back up at him this way, it’s hard to believe that he never saw it. That love, swirling with endless depth. That quiet but firm matter of fact that you loved him, and a piece of you if not all of you always would, even after he’d shattered your heart on the ground carelessly.

“Hi,” your voice is meek. Even after nearly a year, all it took was him being here, and you felt the person you’d worked so hard to build from scratch fall right apart, exposing all your old wounds and still-sensitive nerves. Before Eddie, you’d always seemed so sure of yourself.

He should walk away. He should leave you be. He should just live with what he’d done, the damage he’d inflicted, and let you continue to heal.

He can’t. “Is this seat taken?”

You hesitate as you stare at the chair that his hand lands on the back of, and he doesn’t blame you. He isn’t sure he’d let him take that seat either.

“No,” you answer honestly, clearly against your better judgment, “It’s… open.”

There were a million other seats he could have taken. A plethora of empty tables he could have chosen over your currently occupied one. Hell, he could have even just walked out of there and let your soul rest. But for the life of him, he couldn’t. Because you’re here, and you’re only staring at him rather than cursing him with every foul name under the sun like he deserves, and all of the rotten parts inside of him are clawing out for your kindness. Like a child desperate for comfort, like a wounded animal taking shelter.

He takes that seat wordlessly, and watches you slowly shift your laptop out from in between you two.

You clear your throat first, offering that first olive branch, “How’ve you been?”

He almost wants to wave your question off. He’s been giving a rare opportunity and almost can’t stomach the thought of wasting it on small talk.

“Good,” he forces the answer out, “We, uh- we got picked up as openers for a tour this summer.”

We as in the band. The thing he’d put above you. He just might regret that decision for the rest of his days.

You’d had a college plan. He’d had a drop out plan. But you had still tried to fight tooth and nail for him; you'd given up a fraction of your reputation for him, a side effect of being associated with the freak, and you hadn’t even blinked an eye. It had been the bare minimum, at least in your eyes, but to him it had been a sign that he was nothing but poison for you. It went further than just the fact that you had your shit together and he didn’t. Once the first weak spot had his attention, all the fragile delicacies that your relationship hung on by did. He stopped ‘studying’ with you at Benny’s, choosing Hellfire Club over you. He always forgot to congratulate you on your accomplishments, whereas you never missed a beat in recognizing his. It was always him taking, taking, taking. He had watched you give, endlessly, over and over, and convinced himself that one day, he’d bleed you dry. He convinced yourself it was better to break your heart than to drain you for all that you were worth. He’d never considered your perspective of it all.

“That’s amazing,” you should be scathing, hurt and angry to have to hear about how the very thing he’d broken your heart over was working out for him. But you aren’t, and you both know you never could be; you were happy for him and still cheering him on, even after all the damage done between you two, “What’s the band you’re opening for?”

Stiff, cool small talk continues. Talk of this band that had so graciously taken Corroded Coffin under their wing. Discussions of the weather. Comments on the college you’d been accepted into, and confirmation you had been working on class work when he’d found you. You had a full ride. He tries to remember all the times you’d discussed your specific accomplishments that would award that, if you’d ever bragged about your GPA to him or any of the extracurricular activities you’d taken part in for a shiny bit on your applications. But he can’t recall them; maybe he had just gotten too jealous at the time, or maybe you’d been aware of the hurt it would have caused him and avoided the bragging rights. (It was the latter. God, he knows it’s the latter, but it hurts to admit it).

It’s painful. So, so utterly and terribly uncomfortable. He once knew everything about you. The mundane things like your favorite song to belt out with the windows down, and the remarkable things like how it felt to feel your heartbeat pressed to his while his bedroom window was open on frigid November nights. He’ll never know that feeling again. He’ll never feel your breath sync with his, and he’ll never get the chance to not take for granted that serenity you’d always offered with open palms in his direction.

When the conversation dwindles and the coffee goes lukewarm, he knows it has to end. He’d replayed this scenario a million times — rehearsed his apologies and tormented himself with endings where you took him back. You’d forget the past and drop your guard as you welcomed him back into your arms. The night he should have vocalized his fears of dragging you down with him but instead claimed you were holding him back would be erased. His pride would become a caged animal who had spent enough time roaming free and wreaking havoc on the best things in his life. Everything would go back to the way it was. Everything would be okay again. In his mind, that’s how this should have gone.

It didn’t. But he could still offer at least one piece of his dress rehearsals to you, leave at least one bandage behind for the trouble he’s caused.

“I’m sorry, you know,” he stumbles out, and it’s not nearly as smooth as all the words he’d repeated to the mirror, “I’m sorry for the way things ended.”

You’d loved him. Really, really loved him. And he’d taken it for granted, he had used it and discarded it for all it had been worth.

He’d always known you were smart. You wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, even if that love still burrowed in the channel of your heart frozen in time, forever cursed to a loop of the December night he’d chosen to chew you up and spit you back out.

“Don’t be,” you smile sadly, and he sees the glimpse of the you that still loves him, that still wants the best for him. The piece of you that will always treat him better than he deserves, “We got everything we wanted, right? It all worked out in the end.”

“Right.”

His tongue is dry, almost swollen, heavy in his throat.

He doesn’t know how to tell you that no, he didn’t get everything he wanted. None of it worked out in the end. Because at the end of the day, he finds that the only thing he really wants is you, and he will never have you again. You had treated him so well, had been so damn good to and for him, and he hadn’t known what to do with himself. Some foolish part of him still believes that with the knowledge he finally holds now, he could treat you better — treat you right. But he can’t. He’ll never even get the chance. He’ll never even deserve the chance.

An exchange of goodbyes. A final glance. An acceptance that even if he locked away his pride now, it had already dug its claws into you, and the scars would always remain.

He leaves more unspoken words in that coffee shop, at that table with you and your cold latte, than he can count. You both promise to reach out to each other more often, but you both know it won’t happen.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He never does these days.

Repentance churns his chest, a familiar friend, and demands to be felt until he can see the sun begin to rise through the curtains of his hotel room. He swears he feels the ghost of gentle lips kissing his cheeks, whispering to come to bed, but it might just be the wind.

There may only be a small piece of you frozen to that night and all your time together, and you may still have a possibility of thawing from the cold that he left you out in, but there is no such luxury for Eddie. He’ll always be there. Repeating words he doesn’t mean, watching tears well in your eyes as he destroys everything he’d ever wished for, setting aflame the one thing he could have done right in his life.

He writes another song about it, ignores the tear stains on the paper and adds it to the collection of all the ones that came before it.

Across the city, your pillow matches the sheet of lyrics. Tears shed that Eddie would never be able to recognize through his own smoke and ash.

Love was never something that came easily to Eddie. Regret, on the other hand, always would — always, for as long as you exist somewhere out there, frozen in December.

“And I think about summer, all the beautiful times when I watched you laughing from the passenger side – and realized I loved you in the fall.”

#speak now (ghost's version)#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #the power it took to resist adding any more lore than what i did #this is one of my top songs on the album fuck #no one understands how badly i wanted to add a flashback to those summer times and then the mention of fall #that's one of those lines that makes my heart ache when i hear it every single time #you know what? loosely based on real events #being told i was 'too good' and 'too smart' for someone and that's why they broke my heart really has happened to me #like cool i don't really understand but cool #ANYWAYSSSS

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gardenofnoah · 9 months

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hi bea 💕 saw your note from a few days about gently pushing a writing prompt in your inbox 💌 if you're still taking them, here's a thought i've let run wild in my brain. hope it helps with your writing rut! bakugou and kirishima coming home to a non-pro hero!reader after a grueling 2 month stint overseas. it's the first long mission they've gone on since starting this fairly new relationship. it's a little awkward, but everyone underneath is brimming with longing. no one's not sure how to break the ice and settle back into a rhythm. maybe some insecurities come out as dinner is awkwardly made. how do the three of us get back to a safe and vulnerable place? a lil sweet? a lil angsty? all up in our feels? 👀 is it a soft kiss that breaks the tension? a lingering touch? a massive dam that breaks with clothes haphazardly ripped off down the hall?

i am kissing your brain directly for this one omfg

it doesn't feel like you thought it would.

to have your beloved heroes back home should have filled you with the familiar contentment that only they bring you. the knowledge that katsuki and eijiro are here and safe, back to you like you made them promise, should be a welcome thing.

but the hours that scratched at your loneliness until it bled are between you now. a great divide—one that widens with every touch the two exchange in front of you. you stand on the other side of it alone—an unfortunate voyeur to the very thing you've yearned for but could not have. how odd it is that the very people you have loved bring up a completely different sentiment now.

how strange it is that some part of you wishes they were still gone.

the apartment that felt too big now suffocates you. the mahogany under your fingers seems a far better sight than the alternative. they chat idly about situations you aren't privy to, missions you haven't gone on—you keep your eyes trained on the wood grain to ignore what's looking you straight in the face: you are othered—you are outside of this. you trace a chip in the tabletop and think with some detachment that you could get up unnoticed.

"you tired, babe?" eijiro's head turns to you as you stand. it feels foreign to have his eyes on you. you gather your bowl and utensils in your hands and fight the urge to tell him to look away.

"yeah, no, i just—i'm not hungry."

"oh! do you want to pick a movie to watch?"

you shake your head, looking anywhere but him. your feet take you past him, headed straight for the kitchen or anywhere else but here. "no, that's okay. don't worry about it."

"oi," katsuki's rasp commands a pause in your steps despite intending the opposite, "what's that s'pposed to mean?"

you don't move an inch—it's enough effort to contort your face into something resembling a smile. something to appease. you can't look at either of them—you keep your eyes on the floor and will it to open up and swallow you whole.

you jump when you feel katsuki's warmth in front of you—far too close. he takes the dishes from you, setting them on the table.

"don't worry about what?" he murmurs, reaching up to tip your chin up. forcing you to meet his gaze.

it doesn't take much else to make you crumble.

you whimper as your eyes burn, blinking furiously to fight the way his face blurs in your vision. he keeps you there and it's torture—fighting the wave that won't stop coming when no one has taught you how to swim. full of fear that it might be the thing that washes away everything.

"baby—" eijiro gets to his feet, startled at your outburst.

"sit down, red," katsuki mutters, holding a hand to the side to stop him. it's absentminded at best yet still effective—and the only thing you can notice is the unspoken between them. there is a trust there that existed long before you and has only been strengthened in the months without you. eijiro settles back in his seat. the canyon deepens—you get farther away.

you know that fighting katsuki's grip on you is futile and you try anyway. he lets you get as far as arm's length away before his fingers close around your wrist and drag you back to him. distantly, you can appreciate the metaphor.

the palm that cradles the back of your head and traps you against his chest is a cruel one. heart to heart, something inside yours breaks.

"it hurts," you gasp. god, does it hurt—the wound sears as hands that feel familiar and wrong hold you tighter.

"take a breath,” he says it so gently that you’re not convinced he’s not someone else in this moment, “tell me what’s goin’ on.”

you do as he says—shuddering and staggered, all torn up in his arms. you feel put on display here in front of both of them—an actor who’s been the butt of the joke the whole time, unbeknownst to them until the final act.

"you left and i—" you squeeze your eyes shut, bearing down on the sob that would love nothing more than to punch its way out of you, "y-you had each other and i was alone."

neither one speaks—the silence stretches and waits patiently for you to fill it.

"you left and i was the one to miss you. i—i feel like i missed everything—i don't feel like i have a place in this anymore—"

the grief knocks the wind out of you when you get to the root of it. it was silly of you to believe you could ever have a place in this, really. two heroes at the peak of their careers, and you—a chain around both of their ankles. how could you have ever held on to those that are held just as tightly by a whole nation? would it have ever mattered, with the hold they already have on each other? there could never be enough room.

"do you think we didn't miss you?"

the blatant hurt in eijiro's voice brings you back to the present moment. katsuki moves back just far enough for you to see it etched on to the red head's face in a way you haven't ever. something about it makes you want to step back into katsuki's warmth, as if it could shield you from it. you can't answer him—and the silence is more shameful truth than you're willing to part with.

"baby," eijiro breathes, strained and thick, "i—we—thought about you every single second we were gone. every single second, i thought about how you'd be spending your day, and i was so excited to get to call you to hear about it. at night we would talk about how you were probably burrowed in blankets and our clothes on the couch, and about how badly we wanted to be there with you."

"you are a part of me," he goes on, goring you any way but softly, "you are a part of us. this doesn't work without you. i know you're hurting and i'm so sorry we had to leave—but sweetheart, you are what we come back to."

your knuckles are white as katuski brushes his thumb over them. he brings them to his lips—brushing over each one softly. you shake in his grasp and he doesn't falter.

"i'm tired," you whisper to no one in particular. it's a half truth—the why hangs in the air between you—but the fatigue is bone deep. it hurts.

"alright," katsuki's voice is raw in a way that feels like a knife in your side—stoicism given away to something far too vulnerable for him, "shower first. then we're goin' to bed."

the ritual you had in place before distorts under the weight of the night. the act takes on new meaning as you let him peel the clothes off of you and corral you into the shower. you're only under the spray a short second before he's gathering you in his arms again--warm and damp in the steam as he dips down to press his face into your neck.

"don't you run off on me," katsuki’s lips brush your throat and it only feels melancholic. he whispers his fear against your skin and all at once you realize that it mirrors your own. you feel eijiro's chest at your back, and when he reaches over your head to wrap a palm around the back of katsuki's neck, the pain fizzles out into something like remorse. how blind you'd been to the knowledge that they held the whole time—that you were the thing they'd wrapped themselves around and sworn to protect.

there's nothing left to say, and yet you speak your apology anyway, hoarse over the patter of water against tile. much louder is what you don't say: i love you. i need you and i'm afraid.

katsuki dries you off slowly, like he's trying to commit you to memory, and it makes you ache. you let him preen you in some animal attempt at strengthening the tear in the bond.

but it's only a tear. blood dries and wounds repair themselves just as the connection between you will. when you settle into bed, it gives under the familiar weight of the two halves of your heart. it's almost comical, the way they both wrap themselves around you—nearly swallowing you whole.

it might be to keep you there—but your heart settles under their tangle of limbs and love and for the first time in the months they'd been gone, you sleep through the night.

#bunny this was probably not what you were asking for #and i truly have no explanation for this but uh. i hope you like it heh #like i told you i really wanted to do it justice and i hope i did that. this was an amazing prompt #mha drabble #bnha drabble #bnha hurt comfort #bnha angst #kiribaku x reader #kirishima x bakugou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bea writes ♡#bkg it's the little things #kiri it's the little things

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aspennntree · 27 days

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since we only see the fucking. what do i call it. this thing.

when theyre alone do we think oscar has told the others about these weird merge episodes? because it doesnt seem like they know...

#chat i am thinking about this so much #no cause ren said 'oscar just...isnt himself' like does he know whats wrong. does he know. oscar are you talking to your friends.#also im pretty sure oscar was implying that this like. isnt a normal part of the merge. which im now thinking about what the fuck this is #makin another post about it #rwby #tree talks #oscar pine #ozmosis #ozpin #tree can't shut up about oscar pine #no you just know theyre isolating themselves when they can also. like he is not talking to them #i know that because ren is like how the hell did jaune get these bitches to talk to him.#like i feel like they dont know #'like minded' = emotional repression #i dont even know if oscar told them what magic does to them #like if there was any time to bring that up it was when telling everyone about oz being back and that what he did was magic #and he. didnt.#like hes not gonna bring it up of his own accord. hed probably only mention these like merging episodes #is if someone was with one while one happened #i dunno im rambling #i just want to make angst...

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danwhobrowses · 8 days

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So after four months, Bell's Hells are off the moon

0.5/5 Stars - Some of the locals were nice but activities were shit and needs new management.

But what's this? Aabria with a steel chair!? She's probably cackling looking at the socials right now

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr3 spoilers #cr spoilers #cr3 #cr3e92 #bell's hells #bells hells #crown keepers #aabria iyengar #glad they got to go off on Liliana though she needed to be told what for #drop them all at the key why don't you though? Not exactly helpful #four months for us but it was like a weekend trip for them - a terrible not fun at all weekend trip #the swap was extremely unexpected yes but we did want to see Dorian #but honestly Lolth what the shit? Are all the betrayer gods scheming? Aren't we all on the same side with Predathos?#to be fair I was dreading more bitter angst so I'm glad the Hells are comforting one another #but as an Ashton fan I wanted more of how they're feeling than the usual 'Imogen Laudna and Orym are sad' stuff #they lost their best friend after all - let Taliesin use his wordsmithery #nothing against the three but they do carry a lot of the narrative because of how intertwined their emotional states are with the plot #and ofc as a shipper I wanted Fearne and Ashton to comfort one another but hopefully next episode #but Orym's sending was tragic the lil guy needs Dorian right now so we better not kill him #big drider fear vision though no thank you no más non merci instant transmission outta there #we're either killing or writing off Opal for Deni$e it feels but poor Aimee is on her lonesome up there #if you see this hi Aabria! Unlikely but still hi Aabria!

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esterigermaine · 4 months

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I have so many questions about Astarion's birth family that it isn't even funny.

I wonder what sort of relationship/dynamic they all had before his death, I wonder how they reacted, if they knew he was "alive" as a spawn the entire time and just ignored it because that creature wasn't their son/brother/nephew anymore, how they would react if told he had spent 200 years suffering. Most of all, I wonder if they would accept (or be proud of) the man he became at the end of the game.

#astarion #i mean the grave being pretty overgrown is kind of telling that no one is taking care of it anymore #but was he estranged? did his family move away? was there a period where they took care of it and thought about him?#did they feel guilt thinking there could have been something they could have done to save him or keep the gurs from attacking?#do they still think of him as a baby Elf because he was killed so young despite the fact he has literally been undead for 200 years?#did they die as well?#this concept has so much potential for angst and fluff depending on the type or relationship they had #and if they accept him as the vampire spawn he is if they are still around and alive #which I mean it is highly likely he has family still around #because Elves live a ridiculously long time #239/240 is still young enough to have siblings parents and maybe even grandparents out there #could you imagine him meeting a neice or nephew and them telling him stories that their parent told to them about uncle Astarion?#like someone cared enough to keep his memory alive and teaching family he never got to meet about him

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eggseabutter · 2 years

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Imagine Sonic started feeling betrayed by his own friends when they did not rescued him in those six months of torture in forces and he never quite got rid of the feeling, so when the Metal Virus happens and everyone blames him for it, is actually his breaking point and he after it finishes and everyone is happy; Sonic is so fucking hurt and starts his villain arc :]

#ems speaks #the angst I could create with this #thinking about the arcane scene #if you cared so much why did you leave me?#hed prob join Eggman bc the doctor was at least there yk #Sonic is mental ill ok #ALSO SONADOW ANGST #bc shadow literally told him ‘it’s what you deserve’#and that actually BROKE SONICS HEART YK #SHADOW WOULD REGRET IT BADLY #eggman be like; oh you’re gonna start ur villain arc ok imma adopt you now.

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adhd-merlin · 7 months

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I think this is a mega unpopular opinion among arwen enjoyers but I love the banishment scene in 4x09 actually. yes it's tragic, yes it's painful, but it's precisely because of how much they loved each other. its greatly written and bradley and angel are both incredible in it. I haven't managed to find a proper gif set of that scene yet which is a crime

#yes I love angst!! sue me #I'm sorry I think its very in character for arthur actually #he was hurt he was heartbroken he was furious #and even then he addresses gwen with almost... tenderness?#“what happened guinevere. we were happy”#“what happened”!! = where did I go wrong #he gives her the benefit of the doubt #he goes “god maybe it was my fault. because she wouldn't.”#“if you had doubts...” (!!!)#if you had doubts YOU COULD HAVE TALKED TO ME.#YOU KNOW YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME ANYTHING.#“but he banished her!!” WELL YES his council fully expected him to execute gwen. which would have been the standard procedure #(“do you know what they are saying?” > !!! the ever-watching eyes of the court)#he's still the king. he's been made a fool of. in front of everyone #he's lost and confused and he's just been betrayed by the person he trusted most in the whole world like #he is not exactly clear-headed. ok #and poor gwen can't even explain why the fuck she did what she did (obviously) which doesn't help #oh god I could go on and on about this. I'll stop #unpopular opinions #arwen #merlin

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 years

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I... I see you ask box says writing prompts too? Could I maybe if you feel like writing it ever request a scene of healthcare au Hyrule getting a hug? Or on break? Or having a day off? Whether its because he's sick or something really bad happened or if its just a good day and his friends just love him or whatever is up to you.

(@ludoluck @keestones @paradoxical-hermitcrab @artisticgamer)

Have all the Hyrule fuff and hurt/comfort, sweetheart. <3

The tones dropped, making Hyrule jump out of his skin. He bolted up in bed, flinging the blanket off him when he saw Mo stretching lazily and looking at his watch.

"It's shift change, Roolie," Mo said sleepily. "Not our call anymore."

Hyrule blinked once, twice, and then it sank in. He sighed in relief, falling back to his pillow. Thank goodness.

He had two whole days off now. And he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them, but he would definitely figure something out.

Hopping out of bed and throwing the linens into the laundry bin, he opted for having a nice warm shower and he'd start figuring out what to do from there. As the water ran over him, he remembered that he'd told Legend he'd stop by his place to hang out for a bit. Legend was a night shifter, so he was likely asleep right now, which meant Hyrule could spend the morning hiking on the mountain trails outside of town.

As Hyrule biked away from the station, he giggled, letting the morning breeze wake him up. He felt so alive letting gravity push him down a gigantic hill that he laughed the entire way to the bottom. The smell of his favorite bakery wafted in the air, and he parked his bike outside the shop and strolled in.

"Good morning, Pita," Hyrule greeted with a smile.

Pita turned, her brown eyes brightening. "Oh, hello, Hyrule! We haven't seen you all week, I was getting worried!"

Hyrule rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I had picked up a few extra shits and this bakery isn't in our first due."

Pita put her hands on her hips with a humph. "Well, it should be, and you shouldn't be working so hard. Now, you want the usual?"

Hyrule nodded eagerly, and then he turned to find a table when he saw a familiar face.

"Four?" he asked, prompting the person in question to look up. It was Four, snuggled warmly in a slightly oversized tie dye hoodie with a book propped open beside some scones and tea.

The ICU nurse smiled warmly. "Hey, Hyrule! What are you doing here?"

"I come here on my days off because they've got the best bread in town," Hyrule answered, walking over to his friend's table. "You?"

Four moved a newspaper from the other side of the table, giving Hyrule space. "I come here every day that I can. It's a nice little morning routine when I have mornings to spare."

Hyrule hesitated. "Oh, I--I don't want to interrupt your morning routine--"

"Roolie, sit down," Four said exasperatedly with a good-natured roll of his eyes. "It's nice to see you not wearing a duty uniform once in a while."

"Yeah," Hyrule laughed a little. "I get that a lot. I guess maybe I should try to take some more time off."

Four watched him almost pleadingly. "Please do."

Moving past that subject, the paramedic asked, "What are you reading?"

Four immediately brightened, and dove into a full narrative of the story, which was about a group of heroes trying to destroy a cursed magical item. Hyrule was so enthralled by the story that he didn't realize how much time passed until his phone started buzzing.

Hyrule! Where the hell are you, you dope don't tell me you picked up another damn shift!

Hyrule read the text on his home page, and without even having to look at the sender he laughed. Legend had apparently woken up early.

Four and Hyrule parted ways, and after about a half hour's bike ride, Hyrule arrived at Legend's apartment. His friend met him outside, stretching and yawning.

"Rav's on the warpath and I didn't want you to get dragged into it," Legend remarked at seeing Hyrule's questioning look.

"About what?"

The travel nurse shrugged. "Probably because I hid his stuff. But that's what he gets for selling mine."

Hyrule laughed and then stopped himself, embarrassed. He wasn't sure Legend found it a laughing matter, but the pair was entertainingly chaotic. It was almost as bad as watching Legend and Warriors go at each other, or Warriors and Twilight.

"So where are we going?" Hyrule asked.

Legend pulled up the map on his phone. "Well, last century when you had a day off, we went to Beedle's to check out his wares... oh wait, I just remembered--I saw this place and thought we should check it out!"

Hyrule walked over to look at where Legend was pointing. "Misery Mire? What's that?"

"It's an escape room!" Legend answered. "I bet they got some great prizes if we can crack it."

Hyrule smiled in excitement. He loved solving puzzles with Legend. "Let's go!"

XXX

Hyrule had known the code was rough. But it hadn't been his first code. It hadn't been the first time a patient had died and he hadn't gotten them back. He'd known it would make him feel a little tired for a day or so and then he'd move on. That's how it worked. He had to move on.

He hadn't expected this one to linger.

He'd thought he was fine. Truly, he did. Until he'd happened to look at an X-ray of some random patient in the emergency department, glancing at it over Warriors' shoulder as he babbled about something to Legend, and then suddenly Hyrule felt the grandmother's ribs breaking under his hands all over again as if he were in his ambulance doing compressions, the grandson sobbing outside his truck.

And then he'd realized that maybe he wasn't okay.

So here he was, sitting at Telma's Bar and sipping some milk and just... existing. He didn't really know how to address the issue. He'd gone over the code multiple times, and he knew that he'd done what he could. He didn't understand why this one in particular hit so hard.

Maybe it was that he had told the grandson he was going to be okay. Maybe it was that he had told the grandson he would take good care of his grandmother.

It wasn't like he hadn't, he couldn't help that she'd died. Her blood pressure was better when he was doing chest compressions on her than when she had been alive! He'd obviously done what he could.

So why is this bothering me so much?!

Sky would say he should go to church and pray about it. That's what Sky did a lot. But Hyrule didn't really know what he was supposed to pray about or say about it. So he just sat here instead.

"Hyrule?"

Hyrule nearly jumped out of his skin, and he turned sharply to see Twilight.

"Hey, buddy, what's wrong?" Twi asked gently, cocking his head to the side. Apparently it was obvious that Hyrule wasn't feeling great.

And something about Twilight's tone of voice just set him off.

Hyrule immediately felt his eyes start to water, his throat tightened, and his entire body trembled. He bit his tongue, hoping the pain would make the reaction recede, but it didn't really help. He couldn't eve choke out any words at this point. Crap.

Twilight watched him a moment longer before approaching and carefully encircling his arms around the medic in a gentle hug. Hyrule melted into it, crying softly into Twi's shirt, gripping it and shaking like a leaf.

He couldn't put what was wrong into words, but he didn't have to. Twilight just held him, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down his back. And somehow that was enough, allowing the young medic to just let himself go.

#I am CRACKING UP that I've abused poor Hyrule so much that someone had to request he get a break XD #poor baby #you ask skye answers #lovely anon #writing prompt #writing #lu in healthcare #lu hyrule #yo there is an actual bakery in minish cap #AND THEIR NAMES ARE ACTUALLY WHEATON AND PITA #I groaned and laughed at the same time #I legit had to pull up a city on the map on my phone and just peruse to see what city folk do XD #I don't get out much in case you hadn't noticed LOL #I was going to write just pure fluff and fun and then I remembered you requested Hyrule get a hug too #and he doesn't strike me as someone who gives or receives hugs willy nilly #so then I had to angst him up a bit #praying DOES help Roolie there's literally no special words for it #I did this exact thing and just bawled for like an hour by myself at church lol #and then told myself that with God's help I'm stronger than the issue that was weighing me down #and then stubbornness kicked in LOL #didn't fix it immediately but the world moved on and I learned to as well #anyway that was probably way too personal but whateeeevs #figured somebody might need to hear it to help themselves somehow #enough rambling now #sometimes a hug is the best support you can offer to someone #and Twi gives some of the best hugs because Twi is awesome #lu four #lu legend #lu twilight #I had the thought that escape rooms are literally Zelda dungeons and now I want to tackle an escape room

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