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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 6 months

Note

Hi lovely Kat, congrats to 2K followers! 🥳❤️

I would like to request a post-war drabble taking place during Levi's first birthday after the Rumbling. The reader knows about her pregnancy for a couple of weeks but decides to keep it a secret until his birthday. They could have a nice celebratory dinner with the 104th kids, Gabi, Falco and Onyankopon, and the reader decides to break the big news to Levi just after they leave.

thank you rose!! i also accidentally turned this into a oneshot bc i couldn't get myself to decide how i wanted levi to react and ended up word vomiting as a result ksdjfksdjf

World's Grumpiest Dad | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

The lights were pretty at this time of night.

You began wheeling Levi back from the diner after waving goodbye to some of the 104th, Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. They had visited to grab dinner at a nice restaurant in celebration of Levi's birthday, much to his own disdain. Of course he was grumpy the entire night, just from the fact that he wasn't expecting to get all of this attention throughout the day. It was draining—but it was nice to see everyone in a setting that wasn't hauling ass trying to remedy all the damage from the Rumbling.

"Please tell me we're going home," he grumbled.

"Almost," you reassured. "Just going to stop at the dock first. Sunset's pretty."

Levi didn't protest against this change of plans. His evening strolls with you always played an important part in keeping him sane, especially throughout the height of the war.

You reached into your bag as you continued walking Levi forward, eventually pulling out a small box and setting it on Levi's lap.

You could physically see him hesitate, not having expected the sudden object to be handed to him out of nowhere.

"It's your birthday," you reminded, knowing that he was going to have this reluctant reaction. Levi was never a fan of gifts, but this one was important.

"It's going to clutter the house."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh, slowly opening the top of the cardboard box. There wasn't any wrapping around the box and there wasn't any filling inside. It was just a plain box with a singular object resting within it: a handmade mug with one of those uneven handles that indicated that you were likely the one that made this at some shoddy pottery studio, which added to its charm.

"What's wrong with the ones we have at home?"

It's not that he didn't like it, he just didn't see the need for an extra mug in your kitchen cabinet.

You groaned as you rolled your eyes.

"Just read it, you asshole."

He pulled the mug out of the box and turned it so that he could see the text that was carefully painted onto it in your handwriting:

"World's Grumpiest Dad"

You couldn't see his face, but you were able to essentially imagine the furrowing of his eyebrows from the confusion that was no doubt running through his mind.

His body posture visibly changed once he realized—he sat a bit further back into his chair, his clenched jaw relaxed, and you even heard a small gasp escape his lips.

"...you're pregnant."

You turned his wheelchair so that he was facing the horizon and took a seat next to him on the nearby bench that you had wheeled him next to. Giving him a small smile, you nodded, eyeing him intensely for how he was going to react to the big news.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Just got confirmation a little while ago, but wanted to save it as a surprise."

You could tell that he was struggling to process. The two of you weren't particularly trying for a kid, but mutually agreed that if it happened, then it happened.

He switched his gaze from your eyes and back down to the mug to reread the text.

"...'m gonna be a dad," he mumbled, although it wasn't clear what emotion was behind it. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not, which was only adding to your nerves.

Levi looked back up at you, his eyes softening once he saw the concern in yours.

Having a kid was never really something he imagined for himself, although this was primarily because he couldn't afford the luxury of imagining the concept of the Titan-free world that you were in. It always provided him and the rest of your comrades the drive to keep fighting, but the idea of settling down in a world that was safe from man-eating Titans—a world in which you could birth and raise a child in peace—never crossed his mind for him.

"You're going to be the world's grumpiest dad," you corrected, trying to lighten the mood in an attempt to dispel your own anxiety in addition to the hesitant look he was wearing.

It worked to some extent, with his eyebrows coming together again into a frown.

"I'm not grumpy."

"Then why are you frowning?" you challenged.

"That's just my face, you brat."

He barely got to finish his sentence before you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"It's okay," you whispered with a small smile. "I like you grumpy. I'm sure our kid will like it too. It's part of your charm."

You were too close to be able to see the slight hint of color rising to his cheeks at your comment, but you could tell that it affected him as soon as he averted his gaze.

"What is it?" you asked as you tilted your head at him.

Levi immediately cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to suppress how flustered he had just gotten over your comment.

"Nothing."

He handed you the mug and began to push himself up from the wheelchair, which immediately got your attention.

"Need to stretch," he grumbled. "Been sitting in that damn thing for hours."

You watched as he walked over to the dock railings, noting that his limp wasn't as noticeable, likely because he hadn't been putting strain on his knee for the past few hours since he's been more or less just sitting throughout dinner and your stroll here. Sighing, you placed the mug back into the box and placed it securely on the bench before walking up next to him.

The wind was blowing through his dark locks, causing it to fall perfectly back onto his head due to his undercut, tempting you to run your fingers through it if you didn't already know that Levi was just going to shoo your hand away.

There was a hint of concern in his one good eye. The frown lines were present despite his expression being soft, and his lips were slightly turned downwards—not enough to be a frown, but noticeable enough that you knew what was on his mind.

"You're going to be a great dad."

Levi's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise, not expecting you to come in with the reassurance. You were right in that his unease over his own ability to be a good parent was what was bugging him, even though he knew that the anxiety was ultimately unfounded, given his interactions with the kids he had basically helped to raise to some extent—the 104th, Isabel, and even Gabi and Falco.

He placed his hand over your lower belly before looking back up into your eyes, his lip turning up subtly before whispering to you.

"I know."

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @deepzombieyouth @lovedbylevi join my taglist! and please lmk if you wanna be taken off

#follower event #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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mindtrcks · 1 year

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for tyler - maybe something about reader helping rescue him from thornhill & being the hyde’s master instead of her? love your writing style!

this is hungry work

Pairing: Tyler Galpin/Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: vague mentions of grooming/violence, smut, quite a bit of plot oops, unrealistically happy ending

Summary: You may not have a master plan or a decades long vendetta, but you do have Nathaniel Faulkner's diary, and a recurring penchant for taking wild leaps of faith.

Nathaniel Faulkner says that the Hyde is a beast lying dormant in an innocent man. Something waiting to be awakened. A creature loyally dependent on its master, subservient to its core.

Wednesday says that it’s Tyler.

She says he’s a monster, that he killed enough people to get a taste for it, and now he’s killed his master, too. That he’s out of control and it’s only a matter of time before he does something big, before more people get hurt. She says anything he’s done before now has been a lie; he doesn’t care about you, and he never did. You were a pawn in he and Kinbott’s game, and he would've tossed you away the second you’d served your purpose. She says that he isn't the boy you thought, and he isn't to be trusted.

But he's sitting right in front of you, with the same puppy dog frown and furrowed brows as always. He's looking up at you with something like desperation in his eyes, and for the first time since you’ve met her, you doubt Wednesday. How could this boy—quiet and sweet and scared—be the monster she claims? How could Tyler from the coffee shop—Tyler who’s soft spoken and friends with outcasts and isn’t even screaming at Wednesday for kidnapping him—be anything but good?

You don’t doubt he’s the Hyde. If Wednesday had a vision, you’re not going to question that. But you do question whether or not she knows the whole story.

—

You’re at Nevermore when Wednesday finally pieces it all together. She’s been expelled, taking the fall for you and anybody else who’d been in that shed with her. Weems had taken it upon herself to personally escort Wednesday to the station, but evidently, even expulsion can’t stop somebody as stubborn as her.

She texts you from Eugene’s phone, the message just a single word. Thornhill.

It’s all you need to bolt up in bed, to shove your shoes on and search blindly for your jacket. You’re not sure whether it’s wishful thinking or just plain hubris, but some part of you—the outcast that wants nothing more than to fit in, to be a part of something—thinks that if you can stop Thornhill, you can stop it all. You can keep anybody else from being killed and thwart whatever Thornhill’s plan is, and best of all, you can help Tyler in the process.

It’s either that, or die trying.

—

Breaking into Thornhill’s classroom is easier than expected. She doesn't leave Ophelia Hall after eight anymore; the lockdown has grown too serious, the dark too dangerous. It allieves your fear, as you creep through Nevermore’s halls, to know that her classroom will be empty when you arrive. To not be afraid of Thornhill would be stupid; if Wednesday’s right, and Thornhill’s responsible for everything, you don’t doubt she’d be willing to kill you for snooping.

The door is locked when you reach your destination, but you waste no time in picking it. You aren’t sure how urgent this is, aren’t sure where Wednesday is or where Thornhill is or where Tyler is, and you aren’t sure what she could possibly be making him do.

You choose not to think about it as your eyes scan the room. You head to her desk first, frantically flipping through sheets of paper, turning over folders and ransacking drawers. You move to the bookshelf when the desk proves fruitless, scanning the dust on the spines of books. Nothing sticks out; the last thing you deem to try is the filing cabinet, looming in the corner of the room. There’s only one drawer that’s open, the metal dented and bent like it’d been slammed in a rush. Your feet take you to it before your brain even has time to consciously make a decision; your hands pulling it open before you know what you’re doing.

It’s empty, save for one thing: a leatherbound journal with the name Nathaniel Faulkner engraved on the spine.

—

Nathaniel Faulkner says that the Hyde is a beast lying dormant in an innocent man, a creature loyally dependent on its master.

He also says that this loyalty does not run as thick as one might think.

—

The thing is, you don’t know Tyler as well as you wish you did. You don’t get to talk as much as you’d like, or to hang out without the murders hanging over your heads. But it’s not like you’re a stranger, certainly not like Thornhill was. No, you’d go as far as to say you’re his friend, maybe among his only ones. He trusts you, and despite yourself—despite everything that he’s done—you trust him.

A Hyde’s relationship to its master is built on trust, says Faulkner.

And maybe you don’t have a master plan, or a decades long vendetta, but you do have Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary, and a recurring penchant for taking wild leaps of faith.

—

He’s in the woods outside of Nevermore when you find him, looking antsy and wrong.

You don’t want to think about what he’s doing there, about why his fingers are curled up into fists at his side. What he’s done doesn’t matter to you; all you care about is what he will do, what choice he’ll make. You approach him carefully, not wanting to set him off, or scare him away. You can’t imagine what kind of headspace he’s in, or the things going through his mind.

It’s only been hours since you’ve last seen him, but he already looks changed. Whatever act he’d been keeping up in Xavier’s shed, in the police station, he’s dropped now. His eyes are dark and his shoulders tense, mouth curled into something cruel. You hear Wednesday’s words echo in your head—he isn’t the boy you thought, he’s a monster, he’s using you—but you try to drown them out. You know Tyler. You know the good he’s capable of. So what if he’s capable of bad, too?

“Tyler,” you say, keeping your voice steady as you step forward. He doesn’t back up, but he does narrow his eyes, leveling you with a gaze that has you on edge, shifting on your feet, your body screaming at you to back down, turn away.

He smiles at you; not the small, shy thing you’ve seen from across the Weathervane so many times, but something sharp around the edges, showing a few too many teeth. Have his canines always been that big? Sharp enough to pierce skin? You feel something run up your spine; a shiver or a thrill, you aren’t sure, and you don’t care enough to try and discern it. Tyler’s walking towards you, and it’s hard to care about much of anything besides him in front of you and the diary weighing heavy in your bag. “You're the one they sent to fight the big, bad wolf?” he asks, looming over you. He expects you to be scared, to run away.

But scared isn’t exactly the word you would use. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

You can see his face flicker for a moment, quick enough that it would've gone unnoticed if you hadn't been looking for it. “And why is that?” he asks, nostrils flaring as he steps impossibly closer.

You refuse to let the proximity affect you, no matter how much it's trying to. “Because it’s pointless,” you say, chin lifting up in defiance. “You know Wednesday. She won’t let you win.”

“So I should surrender, then?” he scoffs, because he thinks those are his only two options. He thinks this is kill or be killed; keep fighting or get arrested, sent away for life. But you have another option.

“Not necessarily,” you say, as your hand snakes down to your satchel and pulls out the diary. Tyler’s eyes zero in on it instantly, lighting up with recognition, with want. “How would you like to put this whole mess behind you, Thornhill included?”

He blinks a few times before glancing back up at you, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t,” he says, baring his teeth around the words, like it physically pains him to say them.

You raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Why?”

He looks mad, now. Not the simmering anger that’s been in the air the whole time, but a lighter kind of rage that’s more akin to simple frustration. More akin to something you’ve seen on Tyler before. You never thought you’d be relieved for somebody to be mad at you. “That's not how it works.

“Because she’s taught you so much about how it works.”

“More than you possibly could,” he spits out, and it’s supposed to be an insult, but instead it’s just plain wrong. Because you have the exact same diary that she did, the exact same knowledge at your fingertips. Only, you’re willing to share your toys.

He watches as you lift up the diary, flipping to your bookmarked page. It’s power in your palms; power over Thornhill, over Tyler. It makes you sick, a little, knowing his fate is literally in your hands. How did Thornhill ever take it? “‘I have heard of Hyde’s gaining new masters only through means of battle spoils or dark magic, but I imagine there must be one other way,’” you recite, reading off of page three of Faulkner’s section on masters, the chapter you had found the most helpful in your frantic skim-through. Tyler stares down at you with something in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ll unpack it later. “‘Seeing as the decision is always ultimately the Hyde’s—whether consciously or not—if a prospective master was ready and willing, a Hyde might simply choose them.’”

“You want…” he starts, incredulous, but doesn’t finish. He just looks at you, conflicted, confused, and maybe a little bit of something else. You understand that what you’re offering is bigger than anything you’ve done with him before now. Going from sitting across from each other at the Weathervane or being present in the same car—Wednesday or Enid or even Fester always a buffer—to offering yourself up as his master is quite the leap. Still, for whatever reason, you’re hopeful.

“Yes,” you answer, even if he technically never finished asking his question. Yes, you want to do this, yes, you’re willing to take the leap, yes to everything.

Tyler shifts on his feet, suddenly seeming wildly uncomfortable as his eyes skirt around the treeline. He’s looking for her, you realize. He’s scared she’s there, scared she’s watching. Scared he’s in trouble.

A gnawing pit forms in your stomach. “Tyler,” you say, and your voice draws his eyes away from the woods. “I’m offering. All you have to do is make the choice, and all this goes away.”

It sounds simpler than it is. There will be things to do, after. Strings to tie, messes to clean. But right now, all you need is to get Tyler away from Thornhill. Permanently.

Tyler stays silent for a moment, regarding you with something on his face that you don't recognize. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, unreadable. But you refuse to falter.

“Because you don't deserve…her,” you say. “The things she did to you. It doesn't have to be like that.”

He seems to consider this, for a moment, eyeing you up and down. He has no reason to refuse, not really. Not unless he actually does enjoy it, like Wednesday claims. If he likes killing, gets off on the taste of blood in his mouth. You know he doesn't, though. That's Thornhill. Right?

“So what do I do?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders up. “Since you're the expert here. What do I do?”

You close the diary, dropping it down to your side. There aren't step by step instructions, no ancient ritual for you to follow in the dead of night. All Nathaniel Faulkner had to say on the matter is that the choice is always the Hyde’s.

You roll with it.

“The choice is yours, Tyler. Make it.”

He furrows his brows, looks like he wants to protest, but doesn't. He keeps his mouth tightly shut, ducking his head down and focusing hard on the ground. You don't know what it's like, on his side. Aren’t sure how hard it could possibly be to make a decision, but won’t comment on it. You’ll give him however long he needs.

After what feels like an eternity but must’ve only been a few moments, he looks back up at you, and you know instinctively that it’s done.

“Did it work?” you ask, peering up at him. He seems unchanged. The same Tyler you’ve been talking to this whole time. The same Tyler that killed all those people and put Eugene in the hospital.

He shrugs. “Tell me to do something.”

You consider it; there's a million things you could tell him to do, endless ways this could go. In the end, you land on something simple. Something with no strings. “Come here,” you request, plainly.

And he does.

—

So you’re Tyler’s master, now.

It’s weird to think about. Weird to think that you’re the one who figured it out, that this victory belongs to you. You expected it might go to Wednesday, that she’d be the one to help Tyler. Either that, or kill him. You thought his fate would end up in her hands, for better or for worse.

Evidently, it did not.

—

There are many things you come to realize about Tyler in the following months that you never thought you’d get to know.

You know he doesn’t really drink coffee, despite his choice in occupation. He wears socks for as many hours of the day as possible, and he sleeps with three blankets instead of a comforter. You know he keeps a secret stash of twizzlers in the cabinet above the microwave, because if his dad sees them they’ll be gone before the day is over. You know what shampoo he uses, how he prefers Spotify over Apple Music, and which drawer is the sock drawer. You know his favorite TV show is Friends, and that he’s embarrassed to tell people about it.

You’re watching it right now, curled up on his couch in pajamas, empty bowl of popcorn abandoned at your side. Moments like this feel equal parts right and bizarre. Tyler’s a killer, and yet you’re spending your Friday night watching Friends together in his living room. It’s strange, but everything about your life is strange. You barely even notice it anymore.

Tyler shifts beside you; you’re so close on the couch that it seems less like two bodies and more like a wild conglomeration of limbs; a leg here, an arm twisting there, the brush of fingers on the back of your neck. His hipbone is digging into your thigh, but you don’t mind. You wouldn’t move if every one of your extremities had fallen asleep. If the couch had set fire.

“You should…maybe move your leg,” Tyler says, breaking you out of your haze. You don’t have to do anything but tilt your head to look at him; when you do, he’s staring back up at you with furrowed brows and flushed cheeks, working his lips together.

It takes you a moment to realize what he means, to feel that familiar weight pressing into the skin of your thigh. When you do, it’s with a start. Yes, you’ve done this a few times. But not enough for it to be a common occurrence. It may be rare, but it’s certainly not the first time. Once you get your bearings, you find that you’re confident enough to smile down at him, to raise an eyebrow and ask, “Should I?”

He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, and you can feel his hips arch up, ever so slightly. “I mean,” he starts, breathy and quiet. “Or you could keep it there. If you want.”

“What do you want?” you ask, sneaking a hand down to the sliver of skin exposed between Tyler’s shirt and his flannel pants. He shivers, but doesn’t answer. “Tyler,” you urge, trailing your fingers over his stomach.

“Touch me?” he asks, squeezing his eyes shut, tilting his head away.

And you’re not really in the business of denying him. It takes some adjusting—you do have to move your leg—in order to find the right angle, but Tyler waits patiently as you shimmy your way down the couch, until you can look at him and touch him all at once. You aren’t sure how long he’s been hard, but when you trail your hand down and underneath the waistband of his pants, he gasps too loud for it to have been a short while.

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, already a little wet, too. As you grasp him, he shoves his face into your shoulder, exhaling long and slow into your skin. “This what you mean?” you ask, maybe a little mean.

He nods. You won’t make him say it—you’re not that mean—but you could. If you asked, he’d answer. You’ve found that’s true in a lot of aspects of your life. It’s a power you’re still scared to wield, no matter how many times Tyler reassures you. You prefer subtlety, to guide him in this way, rather than by giving outright orders. You think he likes it better like this, too, if the way he’s squirming under your touch is anything to go by.

Friends is still playing in the background, but you’re too distracted to find the remote and mute it. Instead, you tilt your head to press a kiss to Tyler’s hairline, as you start to stroke him in earnest. You try to set a slow pace, but Tyler’s hips chase the contact until it’s fast and hard, just like always. One of these days, you’ll make him sit still, but today is not that day. You let him set the pace, pumping his cock for all it’s worth as he thrusts up into your first. He’s embarrassed, you know, but he barely shows it, apart from the way he hides his face. He’s as enthusiastic as you think he can be, not shy in showing you how much he’s enjoying himself, through little punched-out moans that have the tips of your ears turning red.

You’re not sure how much time passes like that. All you know is that your wrist is cramping and your bicep is aching, but you still feel like you could do this forever. The sight of Tyler underneath you, panting and sighing and practically shaking, is enough fuel for you for as long as he needs. Him falling apart for you has got to be one of your favorites sights; the sounds pouring out of him are music to your ears. At a particularly loud moan, you glance up, take in his state.

His shoulders are tense, his hands clenched into his fists and his hips staying shock-still. You let yourself smirk; one of the many things you know about Tyler is that he’s not always the best at lasting. “It’s okay, Ty,” you say, whispered into his jaw as you pick up the pace, moving impossibly faster.

He exhales in a gust of air, deflating almost instantaneously; now that he knows he doesn’t have to wait, he lets himself relax, sink into the couch. It’s not long after that that his hips jerk, and he jams his face into your shoulder once more, and you know.

You guide him gently back by the curls on the nape of his neck. There are many things you’ve gotten to know about Tyler, but the face he makes when he comes has got to be one of your favorites.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #reader insert #this is also for all the anons who requested more tyler smut #i got u #sorry it took me a week

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flowering-thought · 8 months

Text

I told myself "maybe this will be the last part!" Clearly I was wrong-

Now if you haven't played TOTK or at least gotten spoilers for the story I wouldn't recommend reading this. In Ganondorfs' story, I intended to carry out as much of the plot as I could to prepare for the next part of the ideas I have. Dw, there will be a happy ending! Eventually..

So welcome to part three! Sit back, relax, prepare for drama and a rise in obsessive behavior <3

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

WARNING - MINORS DNI

AFAB reader and reader is described as feminine and chubby/plus sized.

Yandere themes, spoilers for TOTK, slight imprisonment/isolation, violence, pregnancy, controlling behavior

Yandere Ganondorf x Archeologist Reader (part three)

Everything was perfect. You had grown so content being married to Ganondorf. He was so gentle with you and you loved seeing how warm he could be towards his people.

You knew that the other major village of the Gerudo was slightly sour about your union. After all, legends tell of a male being born every hundred years but they also have whispers about a curse of evil.

You were just glad that there hadn't seemed to be much fighting with the other major Gerudo village and that luckily everything seemed calm.

You loved bringing around your notebook, sketching the village's people and Ganondorf.

One morning he had asked about the scribbles in your notebook that accompanied your drawings and that may have been the catalyst for what was to come.

"These? They are my notes. My thought process is messy and unorganized at times and I don't like people being able to read my notes. It's like an inner look into my thoughts and it's scary to think someone can do that just by picking up a notebook of mine." You answered, returning to the notebook and looking up at your husband to continue sketching him. You loved how the light of dawn would look on his skin.

A part of him thought it was rational of you to create a code just for your notes. But the other part of him whispered and agonized his thoughts of what you could be hiding.

You only had three notebooks on the shelf in your shared room. The fourth you kept with you as it was still being written in as the days passed. He had never had an interest in them before but suddenly those thoughts of his made him anxious.

So one day when you were out roaming the village he picked up the first notebook and opened it. Sights of a village and tower with a large telescope sketched into its pages. And a young Hylian with an odd device around his waist appeared halfway through.

You then began to sketch through the travels, the monsters you saw, and the people you came across along the way, he saw many words repeated which he assumed to be names, and his brows furrowed at the frustration that came with not being able to decipher the code you created.

And then a misty forest scrawled through the pages, and a large tree with a kind face appeared. He thought there was no way such a thing could exist but then he saw the sword in the stone, and anxious characters drawn out in your notebook, small creatures gathered by the Hylian man that you accompanied on his adventures.

He noticed a map fall from the pages and noticed how different things were labeled in the usual Hylian text, including Gerudo Town. And a place called Kara Kara Bazaar. These places don't exist, so why would you create a false map? And the great plataue? And the kingdom of Hyrule in the middle of the central plains?

His heart raced as he looked through the pages, eventually going to the next notebook to look through the different sketches, needing to try and comprehend what your sketches were telling.

And midway through the second notebook he noticed you were celebrating Zeldas' return. As you sketched her and Hylian man that Ganondorf assumed to be reuniting.

And then tales of exploring caverns and different ruins, your sketches of places you got to see with Zelda and the Hylian man.

And the detailed sketch of a sword along with other writings.

And then came the third notebook. It was more details and sketches of people and what seemed to be plans of taking something back. And towards the end what seemed to be ominous clouds leaked out of a cave entrance.

And that was where the third ended.

He placed all notebooks back in their places, including the map into the first notebook.

He made it back to his study and shut the door, ordering everyone out. He sat on his chair and held his head in his hands, trying to understand the information he came across.

It was that moment when he started to watch you more closely as you wrote in your fourth notebook. He noticed you had a habit of mouthing the words you wrote.

You did it quite often at the end of the day when you would write whatever details you learned. But during the days when you were actively doing something you wrote without thought.

So he started to learn what you were mouthing, noticing each character you wrote and would write it down for later, figuring out each character and attempting to put it into everyday use so he could learn it a bit better.

And with that, he waited for another time when you would be out all day. He felt conflicted about sneaking around.

He wanted to ask you but at the same time, he couldn't handle it if you refused to tell him the truth.

And now he sat on the bed, your first notebook in his hands and he opened it up.

It took him a minute to slowly get the characters to line up in his mind and to apply it to the words but finally, he could figure it out.

He skipped to the midway section where the Hylian man showed up.

"One day I was headed up to the lab to see some man standing at the edge of the village where the lab is. Since the home my parents left me is in town I always stay there and make the trek upwards to the lab. Something doesn't feel right if I don't stay in my home. Like I'd be betraying my parents for leaving that home behind for another."

Ganondorf let himself breathe a bit, his mind berating him for thinking that something sinister could be going on. But he continued to read as he wanted to know more about you.

"The man told me his name was Link. He rarely talked but he at least told me his name! He mentioned something about needing to see Purah so I led him up to the lab. And that's where the commotion started. Turns out he's THAT Link!! The hero of Hyrule! The one that was a guard to Princess Zelda!"

"He held the Sheikah Slate on his belt too. And it was mind-boggling to know that he could travel with the use of it to other shrines that were dug up due to the calamity around 100 years ago. After some debate and worries about how Link will travel as he's lost his memories and everything, Purah let Link stay a night and told Link to stay with me for the night so she could adjust the machine that would update the Sheikah slate with some other features."

"She pulled me aside out of Links' view and asked me to accompany him on his journey. I thought it sounded ridiculous. I've never left Heteno Village. All my knowledge of the world was found in books and samples and everything I could get passed down by word of mouth as well. Wouldn't I just be deadweight to a well-trained soldier like Link?"

"But Purah told me that he's been asleep for a hundred years. That the Calamity took his memories and that waking in a world you hardly know is lonesome. And I understand that. To be lonely despite all these people claiming they know you. And for Link to be told he has to rescue someone he doesn't remember and to save a kingdom from Calamity despite not even remembering the kingdom itself."

"So I set out on the journey, assuring Link that when he would have to go after the four divine beasts I would stay behind and wait to not put any pressure on him to keep me safe."

Calamity? Divine beasts? What is happening? Ganondorfs' mind was spinning as he continued through the pages, your visits to the Zora and then the Rito, even the Gorons and the Gerudo people, a town with no men allowed and a girl he doesn't even know as chief.

He couldn't wrap his mind around it as he made it through the notebooks and then finally towards the end of the third notebook that details what you described as Gloom he decided he needed to get his hands on the fourth notebook.

Things were too much and he couldn't keep his anxiety at bay.

When you returned, you greeted him with a big smile, happily hugging him. "I've missed you so much recently! You seem so busy lately." You exclaim, happily sitting on his lap before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

He loved how affectionate you were, it nearly took away all his anxiety at that moment.

And his dark thoughts swayed and his intent to peak into your fourth notebook wavered.

You noticed his change in demeanor and looked up at him, you lifted your hands to hold his cheeks, forcing him to face you. You put your forehead against his and left a little butterfly kiss on his nose, "What's wrong Gan? You've been a bit off recently." you ask.

And how he wished he could just peer right into your mind without having to ask the questions he wanted to know. He wished he knew everything about you. Everything you weren't saying, every moment of your life he wished he had seen by your side.

And with that the question he had left his lips, "Who are you?" He asked, pulling away a bit to cup your cheek. He didn't have the heart to tell you he peaked into your notebooks and deciphered the code to them, he wanted to hear everything from your lips. You held his hand close as you looked into his eyes, trying to understand the meaning of his question.

He could see the frown form on your face and he could tell your mind was racing as the meaning of his question could only be one thing. He moved his thumb across your cheek as he waited for your mind to form words. "I'm the same person you met at the kingdom of Hyrule. I'm just..." He watched as you struggled to say the words you wanted to say, tears forming in your eyes as you leaned your head against his chest, "Please don't think I'm crazy. Don't leave me. Please listen without thinking of how bizarre this all sounds." You begged.

The sound of your voice when begging like that made his heart break. How your voice broke and how the tears rolled down your cheeks, he never wanted to see you in pain, so it was hard to hear. But he gave a hum of confirmation and you told him everything.

You told him you come from an Era where everything happening now is practically a legend of how the kingdom formed, that not much is known about this current Era, that something had happened while traveling and you grabbed Zelda before she fell into a cavern. And somehow she had taken you with her to the past.

He felt you weren't telling him everything. But at the time he understood why. It already sounded impossible to go to the past but the fact that Zelda is a descendant of the current King and Queen also explained the saying that Zelda was a distant relative.

You told him about Link and how he defeated the Calamity. And how you got to meet Zelda and how you were all trying to get the kingdom back on its legs for years until something started leaking out of the depths of Hyrule castle and infecting the people with illness.

But while you told him about the incident about falling and coming to the past, you didn't tell him about the mummy inside the depths. You didn't tell him that you suspected it was him. How could you? Nor did you tell him about the master sword, as a part of you wasn't sure how to explain it to him.

You had told him "everything", and he assured you that his love for you would not change. He held you until you fell asleep and tucked you in after some thinking on his part.

Just because his love for you would not change, doesn't mean he had any trust in others. He could tell you loved him. That you trusted him and believed in him and his capabilities to be a good leader. But he didn't trust anyone around you. If Zelda comes from the past she could figure out a way to bring you to the present again. To bring you back to your Era. He couldn't have that. And if Rauru and Sonia helped her get you back?

His mind raced and he reached for your fourth notebook. He needed to know the details you weren't telling him.

"Calamity Ganon has fallen and yet when we entered that cave and traveled to the past I felt just as stuck when Calamity Ganon was wreaking havoc. A mummy with long red hair and a hand that kept its power at bay. What could have happened? What could have caused such a thing to be underneath the castle? It doesn't make sense. So I'm going to research all I can about the Zonai while I'm here to figure everything out."

It detailed your time before Ganondorf had arrived at the castle. And then your first meeting.

"A Gerudo King called Ganondorf arrived today, a meeting for peace and prosperity. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. The name was all too familiar to a certain monster that plagued Hyrule for 100 years. And yet the mummy we saw bears a resemblance to him. Long red hair and piercing eyes. The jewelry it wore also looked similar."

"But how would such events occur? And he seemingly knew Link and Zelda! He talked about the master sword as well! But never called my name. Or did he even know I was there? Things aren't making sense and I'm afraid of what could happen. Yet I don't want to see the Gerudo suffer either. It seems as though his warriors admire him yet something about Ganondorf seems too ambitious to see exactly how much he is loved."

More entries later, he comes across your thoughts about marriage to him.

"Everyone is advising me to turn down the offer of marriage. I understand why. But I want to change things. Maybe I can stop whatever happens in the future now. While Ganondorf does bear a resemblance to the mummy in that cave and I can't confirm or deny anything, I have this urge to at least try. Plus the Gerudo people are suffering! I can understand the hatred in his heart when his people have to struggle in the desert when it seems as though the Hylian people don't suffer through the same trials they do."

He read it all and it clicked. He had to continue with his plan even if it meant upsetting you.

You wanted to change the future. You wanted to stay with him and keep him safe. You wanted him and also wanted to protect the people of this land. So shouldn't he try to change the future for you?

He needed that secret stone. With that he'd have enough power to make sure nothing could stop him, and that nothing could dare to get between you, not even Zelda or anything called time.

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You awoke to the sight of an empty bed. It's odd because Ganondorf is always by your side with a smile on his face. After the conversation last night, your eyes were slightly puffy and you had a small headache.

Not to mention you felt sick to your stomach.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed and laze around you had the feeling you'd need to find Ganondorf and talk more about the future. You wanted to assure him that even if Zelda found a way back you wouldn't go. That you'd stay with him.

So you got up and got dressed, you looked around for Inesa, as normally she would come to wake you and Ganondorf up if you both were having a lazy morning. But she wasn't anywhere to be found.

You walked to the doors of your bedroom, reaching for the handle only to find that the door wouldn't open.

Your eyes widened and your heart began to race, you tried to keep calm but something in you felt as though something was wrong so you began to push on the doors, trying hard to get out but nothing was happening.

"Your majesty?" a voice came from the other side of the door and the doors opened, two guards on each side and Inesa stood in the middle.

"Inesa? Why is the door being held closed? Has something happened?" You asked, your heart beating far too loud in your ear for your liking.

Inseam glanced at the guards before leading you back into the bedroom. The guards closed the door behind you two, and she sat you down on your bed. "His Majesty has decided to visit the King and Queen of Hyrule. He set out before dawn, so I suspect he's already made it by now." She stated, her eyes showing concern as she watched your features to see how you'd respond.

You quickly got up, Inesa had already started on about how there was nothing to worry about but you couldn't hear her, you searched your bedside table for your most recent notebook only to find it missing. You then quickly searched the shelves and your first notebook. You found the map but it wasn't in the place where you had put it. You put it at the end of the notebook. You did that because it had significance and yet it was in the pages near the middle.

You felt even more sick now. Your head was pounding and you could feel your heart beating uncontrollably. You felt nauseous but also dizzy, reaching out to hold yourself up against your desk but you couldn't find the strength.

Inesa watched you faint, barely managing to catch your head before you hit the ground. She hurriedly called the guards and demanded one of them to bring a healer.

Somehow you had pieced together what Ganondorf was doing and Inesa was hoping you wouldn't. She was ordered to keep you in the bedroom and lie to you, yet somehow she couldn't bring herself to lie. She should have lied so you wouldn't be in such distress.

After you fainted you found yourself waking up on the bed, Inesa and an older Gerudo woman who you had seen healing the wounded before sitting by your side.

Inesa glanced at your face and smiled upon realizing you were awake.

"Oh thank the goddess you're awake. The healer said it was due to stress that you collapsed." She said, holding your hand gently in her own before the healer stood up to feel your head and check your pulse.

"You really need to keep yourself calm, it's not good to be too stressed out, especially in your condition." She stated.

You sat up carefully and looked to your side, looking at the older woman with curiosity written all over your features. "Ah I'm assuming you didn't know? Well it's still early I doubt even the morning sickness has started yet." She said, looking over your features once more before nodding as though confirming to herself once more.

"You're with child little vai. Considering the whole palace and many of the people in the village know of the loud and passionate nights that you and his majesty share its no wonder you've already fallen pregnant. Thought it's good for a man to not be able to keep his hands off his wife no?" She stated.

She left some herbs on your desk and instructed Inesa on how to prepare them for you as it might be better for you to take extra care of your body for the coming months.

You sat there in shock, your hand going to your belly as you hunched over and tried not to cry.

What were you going to do? Ganondorf was undoubtedly going to do something you couldn't stop, something you didn't even know the plans about. You wanted to stop what was going to happen in that cave but what if you caused it?

And now you were with his child? You felt sick. But you also knew you needed to warn Zelda. Ganondorf was probably trying to look for something inside Hyrule castle under the guise of wanting to ensure peace. But you needed to somehow get out of the palace without anyone noticing.

You couldn't even fathom how to get out. You stood up and looked out the windows to Gerudo Canyon. You'd have to make it through there as fast as you could or else there'd be no chance.

As you glance over the palace and at the stables, wondering about how to quickly make your way without running into anyone. But as you looked out the window and took your time to think as night fell and the stars came out, you could see a sudden beam of red light in the distance, the clouds in that section turning a red hue as the same dark light that emitted from the caverns of Hyrule castle had shown themselves for the first time in this Era.

Your heart dropped as you watched, knowing that it had finally happened. You had no choice but to run. Something horrible was going to happen.

You gathered a few clothes and shoved them in a bag, bringing your notebooks as they were the start of this mess. You would need to burn them when you get the chance.

You'd have to escape early morning so you waited, listening by the door for when the guards would go on break or have a change in shift. And when you finally heard the telltale signs of the guards leaving you tested to see if the door would open and smiled when they did.

You quickly made your way through the halls, hiding in rooms or behind pillars if you heard or saw anyone before they saw you. And when you finally made it to the throne room of the palace where the grand entrance to the village sat, you nearly collapsed at the sight of Ganondorf standing there, a secret stone embedded in his forehead and a frown on his features as though he was waiting for you.

"I hoped it wouldn't happen but a part of me knew you wouldn't be happy with the sudden changes." He claimed, approaching you carefully. Your hands tightened on the strap of your bag, taking a step back.

"What have you done Ganondorf?" You asked, your voice wavering. He only shook his head at your stubborn actions, keeping still so you wouldn't try to run past him yet.

"I did what I had to do my love. They would have taken you from me. They would have used the power of their secret stones to trap me away. And you and I would never get to meet again. I won't allow what happens to happen. So isn't it obvious I need to destroy and rebuild so none of what happened in your time will never come to pass." He stated, saying those words as though it was a necessity.

You felt sick, your hand coming down to your stomach as you thought of who he could have killed. It couldn't be Zelda, right? But who on earth did he?

You felt dizzy as you leaned against the wall for support, keeping your other hand out as a way to try and keep Ganondorf away.

He was surprised at your sudden state. He knew the news would shock you but not to this extent. It wasn't until Inesa happened upon the scene and quickly came to your aid.

"Your majesty! What are you doing up? You only collapsed yesterday you need to rest." She scolded. She noticed the tension but her main concern was your health. Tears filled your eyes as your knees gave out, your hand covering your lips as you struggled to stifle the sobs your throat wanted to scream.

Inesa may hold fear towards Ganondorf but she didn't want to see you like this so she stood up between you two, holding her arm out as though to shield you, "Your majesty, please understand that I mean no disrespect but her majesty collapsed yesterday you see. She is under a lot of stress and it isn't good especially considering her condition. Please permit me to escort her back to her quarters.".

Ganondorf didn't want some maid getting in the way of talking to you, but he could see how your shoulders shook and how much you mourned and so he allowed it, watching as you were gently led away to the bedroom.

He called over another maid, asking to bring the healer to him. He had no doubt that if you collapsed the healer would know about your condition.

And when not even fifteen minutes later Ganondorf came barreling through your bedroom doors with worry and excitement you knew it would be impossible to escape.

You watched as he drew closer to the bed, kneeling next to where you lay and putting his hand over your stomach.

You wanted to forget. A part of yourself wanted to live not knowing of what Ganondorf had done and just bury yourself into his arms. But you couldn't. You couldn't live in foolish ignorance like that.

You turned your head away from him, trying to think of other ways you could get out of his grasp. You needed to make sure Zelda was alright, you needed to help in any way you could.

Ganondorf felt hurt but held back, knowing that you could get even more upset due to the state you were in. So he merely relished in how you allowed him to be by your side and he hoped that in the coming months that you would be in a more fragile state he would get you to love him as he took care of you.

But unfortunate for some, one maid who still held the sight of you holding back sobs would overcome her fear of the very King she served.

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Inesa took the time to watch for a week of the new schedules the guards were put on and how Ganondorf acted around you.

She watched as you struggled to look at him and how at night you would wander your bedroom, pacing back and forth as you looked to Gerudo Canyon, past its vast mountains, and to the plateau where another kingdom lie.

So she kept watch and one night when Ganondorf was rushed with planning and preparation to take down the kingdom of Hyrule she woke you up, watching as you sat up and looked at her curiously.

"Come. I'm going to get you out of here." She claimed, a bag already packed of your things and clothes, another with hers and rations to keep you both satisfied through the trip.

You gave her a look of worry, not expecting Inesa to help you as you thought she would always follow Ganondorfs' rules and conditions. But you shook your worried thoughts from your head and nodded, taking her hand as you both began to run through the palace, finally coming to the stables where the horses and sand seals lay.

She got the horse ready and you thought for a moment before you started undoing all the stable locks, setting the horses and sand seals free so it would take a bit longer for them to realize what horse was missing and also cause enough chaos to let you leave.

Inesa held you in front of her on the horse and informed you that you would be taking a different route than usual, not wanting to get caught yet.

She went as fast as she could watching over your features to check for discomfort. And luckily you managed to keep mostly calm as you and Inesa rode through Gerudo Canyon.

And when you had finally made it out of the canyon you told Inesa to go elsewhere, to the temple you knew as the forgotten temple was undoubtedly the place they would go in times of war and tragedy.

It took extra time to get there, and you constantly worried about the chance of Ganondorf catching you. The fear of what he would do not only to Inesa but to hyrule stuck in your mind.

But as you reached the temple, the sight of Mineru speaking with one of the sages made you tear up, Mineru was surprised by your approach, her eyes sorrowful as she opened her arms. You quickly jumped off the horse, ignoring Inesas' worries, and leaped into Minerus' arms, crying as suddenly Zelda came into the picture.

Zelda looked just as sad until she saw you, quickly taking you into her arms before glaring at Inesa.

But you assured that without Inesa you wouldn't have been able to escape.

And after making sure you were okay, eventually, you were told that Sonia was dead.

The news saddened you more than you thought, a feeling of shock and despair running into you like waves. You couldn't help but sob at the revelation, which eventually led to her grave where a sundelion lay.

You came across Rauru and apologized, his sorrow written all over his features as he embraced you, glad that at least you were safe.

And then the planning of a fight began.

But as things were revealed and intentions laid bare, Ganondorf had nearly destroyed the palace, his rage uncontrollable at the fact you were gone.

How could you? How could you leave him? He knew you wanted peace, but peace was something foolish! He needed to destroy this world and create it anew. He wanted it for you and himself and the new life growing within you born from the love that you and he shared.

With a world where only someone as strong as him could keep you safe and sound, keep you fed and healthy and protected. Where only those who shared his ideals would thrive.

And yet one maid ruined it by bringing you out of his reach.

His anger knew no bounds as he finally prepared for another battle. He'd kill that foolish King and Zelda that could take you away. He'd make you realize you only had him. That you will stay by his side and love him just as you did when you cried and begged him to not call you crazy at the confession of where you came from.

And so a drawn-out battle began, many Gerudo villages falling and many citizens of Hyrule falling in the crossfire. It had only been two weeks and Ganondorf was proving that his power was far too strong and overwhelming.

You tried to think of ways to get him off gaurd, or to persuade him! But you kept having doubts and worries, and finally, when a battle was agreed upon in the depths of the central plains, you overheard the conversation between Rauru and Zelda.

The confirmation of Ganondorf as the man they found in the cave and the worry of what would happen to Rauru and the sages.

Upon hearing the conversation you couldn't help but feel like you were at fault. But another part of you wondered if such a thing was fate? That time was rewound but perhaps it was destined to happen?

That maybe the goddess Hylia gave us this chance to change the outcome of the future hoping that Link could overcome Ganondorf.

You followed Zelda to the final battle, knowing that you were nothing but a hindrance as you could not fight you stayed at the back of the army, helping tend to wounded soldiers and hoping that the rest could manage to fend off Ganondorf.

But something felt off. You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was about to happen. Your intuition was screaming at you to run, to warn Zelda and the rest.

So you did want any fool would do, you ran down the steps leading to the depths, running as fast as you could without the risk of falling, finding that the sages and Rauru were at their limit you screamed-

"Ganondorf!". The single use of his name was enough for him to turn around, and without a second thought the sages hurled their weapons at the Demon King. He brushed them off with annoyance, Zelda using her power of time to make them rush back at him before he lost his temper.

"I've seen this all before! And now-" He shouted, expecting Rauru at his front but unexpectedly Rauru appeared below him, just out of sight to deal a blow to his gut, Rauru's power and third eye unleashed then and there, overwhelming the Demon King.

"You bind my heart and steal my magic? You plan to hold me here like a fool to solve your problems... But are you ready to pay the price for this?"

Rauru smirked, determination lacing his tone, "Don't be so smug, I know exactly what it will cost me.".

You held your hands together, the sorrow of realizing what was happening as the scene in front of you unfolded. Zelda crying out Raurus' name, you couldn't move, stuck in place as you watched history unfold.

Ganondorf laughed, a large smile etched on his face, "Thousands of years will pass in the blink of an eye. You'll only delay the inevitable.".

But Rauru's brows furrowed and he stood his ground, "Years from now someone will appear with the sword that seals the darkness. A swordsman with the power to defeat you - Link."

"Remember this name."

Ganondorfs' eyes widened at the familiar name, his interest peaked at everyone's confidence in a mere Hylian.

Ganondorf was reminded of your journey with him and smiled, "Interesting... I look forward to meeting him..." He groaned out, struggling as he was finally sealed.

The light of his power dimmed and his body frozen in time, all his power taken. And Rauru's eyes dimmed, his final action as the founding King of Hyrule settled as his life was taken only to seal Ganondorf away.

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You and Zelda remained at the temple of time. You weren't sure what was to happen next, both you and Zelda mourning and comforting each other inside the temple.

You held your hand over your stomach, your heart aching at all the events that unfolded.

It was likely you would never see Ganondorf or Link and Purah, or let your child know the joys of the things you wanted them to know of the home you grew up in or the journey you went on.

You felt lost.

You and Zelda were in the temple of time when Zelda acted strange. You watched as she started going to the alter outside, as though being called by something.

"Zelda? What's happening what are you doing?" You asked, following her to the alter which glowed with the familiar light you saw only once when you and Zelda were brought back in time.

You watched as Zelda put her hands out, sensing something you couldn't as time turned before your eyes, and suddenly the decayed form of the master sword appeared in her hands.

You came close, startled by the sudden sight of the sword. That must mean that Link is okay! You smiled at the sight of the sword but Zelda looked solemn, something clicked in her mind that you didn't know.

"I know why I am here." Zelda claimed, her features full of determination.

She told you to stay there in the temple of time, quickly rushing off to who knows. But you stayed still, glancing at the altar before putting your hand down on the stone.

It was warm from the sun. You wondered why the master sword was sent back in time, why Zelda suddenly seemed so sure of what was to come.

Within the next day Zelda returned, you had slept inside the temple, sure that Zelda would return soon.

She laid the master sword on the altar and held the Purah pad in her hands, entrusting the item to a part of Mineru's spirit and then handing it to a helper construct.

You couldn't understand what was happening. Zelda had told you to stand at the front where the sword lay, telling you she was going to restore the master sword but she never told you how.

You watched as she stood in front of the sword, you staying by her side in front of the hilt of the blade.

"Link.. I will restore the master sword for you. I will care for it until the time comes. I will pour my power into it and it will be the weapon that defeats the Demon King." She stated.

You watched as she took the secret stone from her necklace, anxiety pooling inside your stomach at the sudden action.

You didn't understand until she spoke again, "You must..."

And suddenly she swallowed the stone, you took a step back, and the memory of Mineru discussing dragonification entered your mind, you covered your hand over your mouth in shock.

The skies turned grey and Zelda's power showed itself, the light coming off of her body enough to blind you, her power enhanced and she grasped the master sword before turning to you, a sorrowful look in her eyes as she pushed you, your back facing the ledge as you were pushed off, the similar light that enveloped you and brought you to this Era wrapped you once again.

And then you understood. To recover the master sword.. To send you back to warn Link.. Just before Zelda loses herself due to the overwhelming power and eternal life that would heal the master sword, she sent you back with the sudden enhancement of her power due to eating the secret stone.

Your body disappeared into a whirl of light and Zelda held the sword in a hug, looking to the sky, "Link! Protect them all!".

Those words you heard as time turned forward, tears spilling as your consciousness once again faded.

In the center of Lookout landing, among the newly appointed four sages and Link who discussed entering Hyrule castle with Purah, a sudden flash of light appeared, the familiar light made Link run.

While he knew it wasn't Zelda by the figure he still ran, catching you before you hit the ground. Your familiar sleeping face, your eyes slightly puffy still, and unfamiliar garbs.

Link was just glad to see one of you alive and held you close, his brows furrowed as he hugged you and then brought you to a place where you could rest inside of lookout landing.

Entering Hyrule Castle with the four sages would have to wait. He had to see what was going on first, as the tears and memories he picked up were yet to be complete.

He watched your sleeping figure and let out a small sigh, looking out the window of Purahs' room in Lookout landing and wondering where could Zelda be...

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere male #yandere male x reader #chubby reader #yandere totk #yandere totk x reader #yandere tears of the kingdom #yandere loz #yandere legend of zelda #yandere ganondorf x reader #yandere ganondorf #ganondorf x reader

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touyaism · 5 months

Text

better than him — touya todoroki

(cross posted from ao3)

wc: 5,272

content: your boyfriend cheated on you, again, and your older brother isn't pleased (or is he?)

warnings: dubcon, incest, minor voyeurism

You nearly threw your phone at the wall when you got the message.

The text was wordless, with only a single video attached from your best friend. It didn’t need an explanation; the video spoke for itself. Your boyfriend was with another girl again, even in the dull atmosphere of the club and through the bad quality of the Snapchat recording, you could make out his stupid face and the hickeys on his neck as clear as day. The taller woman was all over him, hands digging into his hair, pulling his face closer to hers, and you watched as he smiled against her, letting her do as she pleased like he had every right to do so.

You’d had enough, you opted for screaming into your pillow just to let some of the rage out. You could still hear the video blaring on your phone, the club's loud music sounding obnoxiously through the small device. Part of you wished you’d shown up to that event tonight, just so you could be there to beat his ass.

But no, instead, here you were, at eleven in the evening, screaming into your poor fluffy pillow. It felt good, sure, but you still felt like punching something (someone) afterwards. You slapped the pillow a few times, but it didn’t suffice (shocker).

You were only snapped out of your rage when someone knocked on your bedroom door.

“Hey,” Touya said, monotone and evidently fed up with your drama already. “The hell’s gotten into you?”

Your brother had weird ways of showing he cared, even though he would never admit to it. And more often than not, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Go away,” you groaned. You weren’t in the mood for this. Not when you felt like punching someone.

“No,” he said, typical, and then somehow, forced your locked door open.

The sight he was presented with was you on your stomach, face planted into your pillows and your hair completely dishevelled. You kicked your feet on the bed out of frustration, the stuffies and blankets falling off your bed in the process.

“Fucking hell,” he took a step inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “What I’m getting from this is that you’ve been possessed, am I right?”

“Sure feels like it,” you groaned through a mouthful of pillows, the anger laced in your words perfectly.

“Oh? What’s this?” He said with a smirk. You heard him shift closer and heard the sound of the video change as he took the phone. He rewound it to the beginning, and when he fully understood what was happening, he laughed like he wasn’t surprised at all. As frustrated as you were, you didn’t blame him. You knew he always hated the guy, and obviously, it was for good reason.

“What did I fucking tell you?” And at last, he turned your phone off so the video would stop playing. “Fuck, you want me to kill him for you?”

“No,” you said, finally turning over onto your back so you could face him. He was already in his pyjamas, red flannel pants and a plain white tee that sat perfectly on his frame. And by the way he was standing, you could tell he was angrier than he was letting on.

“Fuck, I wanna be the one to do it,” you continued.

He laughed at that, taking a seat on the end of your bed, picking up a few of the stuffies that had fallen off as he did so. You sat up to face him better, not bothering to readjust your clothes on your body. One of your loose straps was sliding down your shoulder, but it didn’t matter, not when you were comfortable around him. He was your family, after all.

“I don’t wanna see him with you again, got it?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you smiled, you knew he was serious by the way he was glaring at you, and you knew your brother well enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you.

“That didn’t sound very convincing, swear it to me.”

“C’mon, Touya, who else do I have?”

“ What ?”

Oh, now you’d done it, hadn’t you?

“I need someone to keep me company, he fills the void sometimes,” you sighed. “I get lonely, you know?”

“No,” he snatched your phone from the bed, “I’m deleting his fucking contact.”

“Touya!” You reached over to grab it from him, but his free hand quickly pinned you down, your back hit the bed, and he hardly flinched as you struggled against him.

“Fuck, where is he? You got him under a fake name?”

“Touya!” You squirmed some more to no avail. “Let go!”

“No, fucking tell me where you put him,” he said, gripping onto your wrist tighter, but not once taking his eyes away from your phone screen, angrily scrolling through God knows what.

How he knew your password in the first place, you had no idea.

You groaned, knowing full well there was no way out of this, “I put him under ‘No Caller ID’.”

“Wow, how sneaky,” he said sarcastically. And just like that, he turned the screen around so you could watch him delete all traces of the contact.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him. “I’ll just be fucking lonely.”

“Hey,” he tossed your phone away with little regard for its safety. “How can you say something like that when you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world?”

“Huh? You tilted your head teasingly, “Natuso isn’t that bad, but you know that’s not what I mean when I say I’m lonely. Natsuo can’t help with… some things.”

“Oh? Good thing I wasn’t talking about Natsuo , then,” there was a growl in his voice, and you knew you’d pissed him off, but you couldn’t help but taunt him further.

“Oh? Who’s my coolest brother then?”

With his other hand, he grabbed your free wrist, bringing it up and pinning it above your head beside the other.

“Me, and you fucking know it.”

“Whatever,” you shifted, trying to free yourself, but it was helpless, all it did was cause your clothing to become even more dishevelled on your frame. And even though you felt comfortable around him, you were beginning to feel humiliated, beneath him like this and showing off just a bit too much skin.

“You still can’t help in the ways I need, if you know what I mean,” your tone fell more serious, hoping it would convince him to back off. But if anything, he only got closer, drawing his face down, breathing just inches away from your face.

“Yeah? Why not?” He continued.

“You’re my brother, ” you tried to push him away, but he forced himself on top of you to restrict your movements, sitting so your hips were between his thighs.

“Think I give a shit?”

Your eyes widened and instantly met his. He was smirking, but you still searched his expression for any hint of humour. He had to be joking, right?

“What?” You shifted beneath him again, trying to ignore the odd way his body was pressing against yours, his crotch dangerously close to your own. You moved, not liking the way it only made him smile down at you harder, his grip around your wrists threatening to cut off the circulation. You really were trapped, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel scared, vulnerable and exposed like this.

“Touyaaa~” You whined, “Stop being weird, I’ll tell Mom on you.”

“Mm, will you?” His face was only inches from you now, you gulped and ground your teeth together to stay silent. There was no way you could explain something as weird as this to her, and he knew it just as well as you did. He began to close the gap between you, lips just ghosting over yours, your noses barely touching.

“C’mon,” he whispered, “I know I can be better than him.”

You felt like a stranger in your own skin, heart racing and stomach doing somersaults from the contact. You dug your nails into your trapped palms stupidly hard. He was too close, weirdly close. One hand holding your wrists in place, the other reaching down and sliding underneath your chin, eyes staring into yours like you were his prey.

You swallowed.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

His tongue licked the corner of his mouth, and you pressed your knees together unconsciously. You began to wonder what would happen if you just lifted your head, just a little bit, just enough to press your lips against his. You wondered how he would taste, would it feel wrong? Would it feel just the same as it did with other guys? You wanted to know how he would kiss you, his sister, if it was rough or gentle, slow or wet and sloppy.

It took every fibre of your being to fight away those thoughts.

“Stop it, Touya,” you spat. Still mustering whatever strength you could to squirm away from his firm hold.

“Go on, call Mom,” he chuckled. That stupid grin was still painted across his face, taunting you, tempting you. And at last, he let go of your wrists. You sighed in relief, but even now, there was no way you could free yourself. Not when he was on top of you like this. Not when he was so much bigger than you. You shoved a hand out towards him and flinched when you felt his chest against your palm. It was warm, solid, and for a second, you could feel his heartbeat racing, chest heaving with heavy, frustrated breaths. You pulled away almost as fast as you touched him, but didn’t dare move again.

“Oh?” He taunted again. “Fucking fight it, go on.”

As soon as those words came out, the harshness of his language hit your ears, you were a goner. Completely and entirely lost beneath him. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions much longer. And when it became unbearable to not do so, you bit the bullet, and pressed your lips to his.

And, fuck, his lips were so damn soft.

The snakebite piercings tickled your bottom lip, and when you opened your mouth to kiss him deeper, he didn’t hesitate to slide in, teasing your bottom lip with his tongue piercing and biting down gently. You tried to be gentle with him, really, to not rush into things like a starved person, but Touya was starved, hungry and angry. He kissed you like he had a fucking point to prove. A gasp slipped from you as his tongue grazed yours, and you reached up and grabbed onto his shirt with one hand, reaching up for his neck with the other.

There was a stark hardness on top of you as he straddled you. A large hardness that pressed between your legs deliciously. You broke the kiss as you rolled your hips against him, more desperate for any sort of friction than you would ever admit.

Touya laughed a bit at your desperation, “and you’re telling me I’m the one being weird.”

Fuck. You stalled yourself at that. What the fuck were you doing? You opened your eyes after pulling away from him as much as you could, but his cocky expression was unreadable.

“Oh, no” he smiled, reaching down to peck you on the lips once more, “I didn’t say to stop. ”

He rolled his hips, rolled that painfully obvious erection in his pants against your clothed pussy. You tried to fight back a moan, but your efforts in concealing your pleasure were futile when your heart was racing like this, when your breathing was speeding up like you’d run a marathon, even at only the smallest of movements.

“C’mon, sis,” he continued, placing a peck against the side of your neck, “I know you want this.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore his taunts, because fuck, you couldn’t deny it now, not when you’d come this far. You squirmed beneath him again, just to feel him, and as if he’d caught on, he pressed himself into you. Your imagination ran wild, making you want to know just how big it was, how it felt in your hands, inside you.

And when he groaned, you knew, well and truly, you’d reached the point of no return.

“Just once,” you breathed, “and we’ll never speak of this again, got it?”

“Mm,” light pecks on the side of your neck became wet kisses, trailing down toward your exposed collarbone. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered against your skin, and you melted beneath him.

His body ran hot naturally because of his quirk, hot hands traced your sides, playing with your loose shirt, pushing it upward and revealing most of your stomach. You let him, squirming about as if you were inviting him to take everything off.

“So eager,” he smiled, finally lifting your shirt just so it could slide over your tits, exhaling shakily at the way they sprung so easily from your shirt. You tried to cover up, but before you could, he had his hands all over you, grasping, groping, pinching.

“Touya…” The sensation was new to you, to have such warm, big hands all over you like this, like they’d been dying for this exact opportunity. “Don’t be so-”

Your words left you as quick as they came when his hot mouth met your chest, tongue beginning at your collarbones, sucking the tender flesh and making his presence known in the form of gentle hickeys and bite marks. Your back arched into the gentle pain, pressing your chest up into him. You felt him smile against your skin at your body’s reaction, not long before biting down harder, evidently craving more of your cute little reactions to him.

“Mm?” He hummed against you as if daring you to finish your sentence. You couldn’t. Your mind was blank, only Touya occupied it. Touya, your brother, and his warm mouth on your skin, wasting no time in venturing further down, making gentle marks on your tits, tracing dangerously close to your nipples and teasing your sensitivity.

And despite everything, the wrongness of it all, you wanted more of him. You wanted to feel him everywhere.

One of his fingers began tweaking your nipple, distracting you from his mouth quickly closing in around the other, circling his tongue around the gentle peak and taking it between his hot lips. The piercings on his mouth touched you in ways you’d never known possible - with a precision that had your legs shaking for him.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, looking down at him, one tit in his mouth, the other held captive by the sweet torture of his fingers. His eyes opened, icy blue and glaring at you were his next meal. Your breath hitched at the sight, but in no way were you scared.

You needed more. So much more.

You bit your lip and pushed against him, harder than before, hoping maybe he would take the hint. He bit down on your nipple, gentle, but hard enough for you to cry out his name.

“Shh,” he pulled away. “You really want someone to hear you?”

“Please,” you continued, arching your hips up into him again, this time, your voice coming out in a high-pitched, pathetically desperate whine.

And at last, one hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, casually slipping under and moving his hot fingers over your clothed cunt. He pressed down harder, rubbing gently where he knew your clit was, and you gasped.

“Wow,” he teased, “someone really is excited, huh?”

It wasn’t like you could help it, not when his big hands felt that good, touching and grabbing you like he knew your body better than anyone else. He shifted his body above you, giving him enough room to begin pulling down your pants. You moved your legs, making it easier for him to slip the fabric away. He tossed them toward the corner of your room, knocking something over in the process, and when you looked up to check, he pressed his lips against yours again, pushing you back down onto the bed and trapping your there, entirely bare beneath him.

He didn’t even give you a moment to breathe before his hands were tugging at the waistband of your underwear, pulling and grabbing until he gave in, tearing the material in two in one swift motion.

“Touya!”

“Hm?” His middle finger found your clit, and your eyes fell closed. “C’mon, tell me how much you fucking love all of this.”

You frowned at him, “just fucking do it.”

“Tell me,” he repeated, “tell me how much you love your brother's hands all over you.”

“Stop,” you breathed, something like dread or guilt filling your gut at his words. But judging by his expression, he felt nothing of the sort. He slid his tongue along his front teeth, maintaining that smirk like the asshole he was.

“So fucking wet for me,” he slid his finger through your folds, achingly slow. “You don’t need to say anything, I know you love it.”

You wanted to hit him, push him off your bed and call for someone to get him the hell out, but your hands were far too busy tugging on his shirt, aimlessly pulling and trying to get it off. He understood quickly, and momentarily took his hands away from you to quickly pull it over his head. He aimlessly tossed it away, and this time, you didn’t care where the hell it landed. As long as he got back to whatever he was doing.

“Poor thing,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on your clit, his middle finger tracing your slit and teasing your entrance. “You know how wrong this is, but you just can’t bring yourself to fight it, can you?”

You dug your nails into his bare shoulders, almost hard enough to draw blood, but he only laughed as he pushed his finger in knuckle deep.

Without any warning, your grip on his shoulder loosened, but your whole body went tense. Even just one of his fingers filled you up so well, the warmth of it was enough to make your eyes roll back. He smirked when your hips started to buck against it when he didn’t move right away, as if he was pleased by just how desperate you were to feel more of him.

He stayed like that for a moment, simply letting you fuck yourself on his idle hand. And eventually, one finger became two, and he angled his hand in a way that allowed you to grind your clit into his palm. You could feel yourself growing wetter, spilling and leaking all over his hand. And if he hadn’t already felt it, he definitely heard it. The lewd squelching was the only sound to fill the silence except for the sound of both of you breathing, deep, heavy, and both of you undeniably desperate for more.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “don’t m-move.”

You were close already, you’d worked yourself up too much, and his fingers were too damn big, reaching every place inside you without him even having to move an inch. You were so close, and you’d gotten there all by yourself. All he had to do was stay still for a second longer.

You should’ve known Touya wouldn’t cooperate with you.

“Nah,” he pulled his fingers out, painfully slow, making sure to brush it against your clit on the way out. “Not yet.”

“F-fuck you,” you said, collapsing beneath him in an attempt to catch your breath. You heard only the obnoxious sound of Touya sucking his fingers clean above you. Groaning around them like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

It was fucking disgusting.

You loved it.

You wanted to know what his mouth felt like between your legs, tongue lapping you up while those big hands of his held your thighs, keeping you still for him while his shoulders forced your legs apart.

“Please, Touya,” you whined. He hovered above you, eyes raking your body as his hands came down to hold you by the waist.

“Poor thing,” he smirked, “about to cum already, and I’ve hardly done anything to you.” You shivered at his words, and when his eyes met yours again, your heart skipped a beat.

“Please-”

You were cut off by the sound of somebody moving outside. The sound of light footsteps was enough for both of you to freeze, staring at one another wide-eyed as someone made their presence known in the room next door.

Where your eyes showed fear and apprehension, Touya’s showed challenge - some sick kind of excitement. Without taking his eyes away from you, he tugged at the waistband of his pants, rough as if in a hurry to be rid of them. He made no effort to conceal the sound of his belt, tossing the heavy thing to the side of your room and allowing it to crash against the wall.

You were about to protest, to scold him and tell him to stop, but once he’d pulled his pants down enough to reveal his boxers, he held his palm over your mouth, fingers holding your jaw firmly and tilting your face up toward his. You whined as he palmed his cock through his boxers, and he chuckled when your eyes widened at the sight of it. Even through the tented fabric, you knew something that big would struggle to fit all the way inside of you. When your eyes slowly drifted back up to meet his gaze, the asshole looked way too damn pleased with himself. He bit his bottom lip with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly more than ready to devour you, his sweet little sister, whole.

You glared at him dangerously as he pulled his boxers down, just enough to let his cock bounce out, the thing was twice as big as you’d imagined it, thick and the length of it adorned with various barbell piercings.

You learnt something new about your brother every day, huh?

The ring on his tip was larger than the rest, already glistening in precome and just begging to tease the deepest spots inside of you.

With his boxers pulled down around his thighs, Touya moved his hands down to your thighs, forcefully pulling them apart to make room for him to get even closer. You exhaled through your nose as he ran his fingers between your folds again, smiling that same cocky grin as he pushed two fingers inside of you again, curling them right against your desperately needy g-spot. You clamped your eyes shut, fearful to make even the smallest of sounds as the person just outside continued to make noise by your bedroom door. Your nerves danced in your stomach as Touya shifted closer, and when you felt his bare erection against your thigh, your stomach flipped.

His fingers left you again as soon as he felt you begin to shake, the bastard.

And then you felt him press the head against your entrance. He teased it, moving ever so slightly so the coldness of his piercing could be known, and just when it got too much, he pulled his palm away from your mouth.

You gasped for air, as if your supply was somehow going to run out. “Touya-”

“Shh,” Touya soothed as he lifted up one of your legs to rest against his chest. You allowed him to do so, but not without making the apprehension visible in your expression.

There was no way you could be quiet like this, and whoever was outside was bound to catch on.

He pressed his cheek against your calf and waited for your body to relax before carefully pushing himself all the way inside - slowly, agonisingly so, but somehow still nowhere near slow enough to allow you to adjust to his size.

And fuck, did he stretch you fucking perfectly.

You whined, pathetically and far too loudly. But that didn’t matter, because evidently, Touya didn’t give a fuck about who heard you. He pulled out and shoved himself inside with no warning as if it was his goal to break you, to provoke you, to let them hear all of your adorable sounds.

He gripped you firmly and pushed in again harder, balls slapping against your ass as he bottomed out inside you. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out, and fuck, it didn’t even matter anymore, because you didn’t want him to stop. You needed him to keep moving to give you some sort of relief from the pressure in your gut. You needed him to fuck you until you forgot your own name, forgot about that stupid boyfriend of yours, and maybe so you could forget about the fact that the guy fucking you was your own older brother.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered and dragged his teeth along the skin on your leg, lips grazing your flesh hungrily. He looked down at you as you covered your face with your hands, squirming pathetically and vulnerably beneath him. He had to fight the urge to pluck them away from your face, he wanted to see how desperate you were, but your sounds told him more than enough.

“Please,” you begged, quiet enough so that only he could hear. “Go faster.”

He wanted to listen to you, every urge in his body was telling him to do just that. But more than anything, he wanted to hear you. Touya didn’t give a fuck who heard you. He wanted you to beg for it, to tell him you’ll never go back to that scum of a boyfriend and trust him instead. So he slowed down, even if it killed him to do so. He pumped out slowly, never sliding his cock in all the way, simply teasing you with the head.

“What the fuck,” you whispered through your teeth. “ Touya,” you scolded him, as if you had any right to do so as the younger sibling.

“Show me your face,” he smirked, “Come on, I wanna see you.”

You threw your hands to your sides, glaring at him as soon as your eyes made contact with his again.

What was supposed to be intimidating, a show of your frustration, only caused your stomach to sink. That same guilt, the looming knowledge that Touya was your brother, hung over your head like a bad omen of some sort. His face was usually so familiar, but not like this, not when he was looking at you like that.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss into your inner thigh. And fucking finally, he started moving again, hips snapping against yours unapologetically as his pace quickened.

Your entire body shook from the impact, and clearly, your poor bed frame felt it too. You cringed at the sound of it squeaking, combined with the sound of someone still lurking around in the room next door. Touya chucked, pounding into you even harder as if making as much sound as possible was his goal this whole time.

You couldn’t stop him now. You felt like you were going to split into two when he fucked you like this. You trembled and whined each time his cock bottomed out in the same spot, clashing into your sensitive walls violently, hitting places nobody had ever reached before, especially not like this. He reached places you didn’t even know you had.

“Fucking hell, Touya,” you spoke, shaky and wet as your eyes clouded with tears. You couldn’t handle it, he was too fucking big, too fucking good at this, and he’d effectively fucked you to the point of forgetting your stupid boyfriend already.

Fuck it, Touya was all you needed, it didn’t matter, not when it felt this fucking good.

“Yeah?” He said through a grunt. “Tell me how good I am, sis.”

You knew what he wanted you to say. As if it wasn’t already obvious.

“You’re-” You whined, “ fuck , you’re better than him.”

He rolled his hips into you before leaning down, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Touya” you cried in his ear as his head fell snugly into the crook of your neck.

He smiled, you felt it against your skin. And of course, he didn’t stop this time.

He fucked you like he meant it, like he’d been waiting for this moment to come for years. It was overwhelming, the way his cock slammed into you and all but tore you apart. His body was warm, too warm against yours, and when his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the vein and lips sucking harshly, you just about forgot who you were. You couldn’t hold on like this. You were trying to, just to savour it longer, to take in more of him, but it was an impossible feat.

“T-touya,” you stuttered, he chucked, knowing exactly what you were trying to tell him. Your cunt clenched around him perfectly, sucking him in and teasing his release out of him too. “Touya, oh my god.”

“That’s it,” he breathed as he slammed into you impossibly hard as if he was trying to force it out of you. “Fucking come for me.”

You whined his name as you came, only barely managing to stifle the sound of it in his neck. Your entire body shook as he rocked you through it, fucking you relentlessly through your high. Tears were still threatening to spill from your eyes and your legs tightened impossibly around his waist.

“Good,” Touya groaned into your ear, “so fucking good.” You could hardly hear him, not when you were this high. All you knew was him and his cock piercing you like there was no tomorrow.

You barely registered his hips stuttering, and he dragged his teeth over your skin, earning the faintest sigh from you as he bit down even harder than before.

And finally, he came, never giving you any warning before spilling deep inside of you. You whimpered as the warmth filled you, oozing through you and spilling out around his cock as he held you there in his tight embrace. You laid there as you both tried to catch your breath, bodies sweaty and hearts pounding, both of you evidently being hit with waves of what the fuck just happened.

Someone shifted in the room next door again, reminding you of where you were,but neither of you moved. Touya only pulled out of you slowly, wincing slightly at the sight of his come spilling out of you.

He hadn’t meant to, really . (Maybe a little).

But you saw the amused smirk on his face as he sat up, and you felt your body erupt into flames. Shocked at just how fucking proud of himself he was.

He ran a single finger between your folds, gathering the evidence of him that was beginning to leak out before gently pushing it back into you. You gasped when he curled his finger, body shaking pathetically at just how sensitive you were from such a small movement. He looked so fucking proud, too proud, as he studied you, listening to your tiny whimpers and cries as he teased his little sister's oversensitive cunt.

You were fucked.

Because despite everything, you loved every second of it. The wrongness of it all, the secrecy. It all made it so much better.

“Told you,” he taunted, “you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world, huh?”

#dabi #bnha dabi #dabi headcanons #bnha #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #fanfiction #touya todoroki #bnha touya #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #mha

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no-name-publishing · 3 months

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Kill the Director by erikschampion

My part in a gift exchange taking place in Renegade's California satellite server. This was a lot of fun and very experimental for me. My idea was to pursue something a little grunge, a little smudged, to go along with the early 2000s Brit punk vibe that the fic gets its title from. Spray paint, screen printing, some blood, some tears, and it's to its new home. Glamour and process shots under the cut!

The yellow base is a plain linen bookcloth that's been coated with acrylic. The pink accent color is a combo of spray paint and smudges of pink Golden Fluid acrylic paint. The endbands are sewn with Gutermann polyester florescent sewing thread, and the endpages are my attempt at an italian vein marble with pink, yellow, and black paint.

Some shots of the typesetting, and a video showing the book as a whole. The fic has some exposition written in a script format, so I typeset that to reflect. And it's always fun to include text message bubbles and emails and stuff.

The graphics on the case were done with screens and waterbased screen printing ink! I went through a few iterations and even tried to set my kitchen on fire in order to get it right before settling on the screens. I'm very very pleased with the result. (The fire was from my DIY attempt at making my own gelli plate with gelatin, glycerin, and rubbing alcohol. All the instructions were telling me to be careful about how many bubbles I was stirring into the mix but I was like, it'll be fine. I'll use my heatgun or a lighter to pop whatever bubbles are there. It works with resin so it should here. Yall alcohol is flammable lmao. Why did I do that. I put my lighter up to those bubbles and lost my vision for a moment at the flash of light. I've never done something that stupid)

The freshly marbled paper hanging up to dry in my kitchen; the screen for the front of the case; my practice piece including the spine design; the case drying on my shower rod (along with some pieces of fabric for another project lol). I have fewer process pictures than I thought lol.

The graphics on the front and back were also partially designed by hand. I printed images of the characters then cut them vertically, and alternated the slices. Copied that, then did the same horizontally. Scanned that, and then did some cleaning up digitally on my computer. Here's some shots of the steps and the pieces themselves.

The third picture shows my first attempt, as I actually did this process twice. The first time I didn't feel like the first pass was pixelated enough, so I cut it again both vertically and horizontally and alternated them once more. This was a mess, and ultimately I didn't like the finished result. Round two (second image) was the final round, and what wound up using in the project instead.

Thanks for looking!

#fanbinding #fanficbookbinding #bookbinding #succession #kill the director #erikschampion #no name publishing

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 10 months

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Ghosftflower: The Artbook Cut

Okay guys, sorry for not doing much lately, holidays aside my laptop died so I am using something else in the meantime, so I had been a tad busy lately.

That being said, the Art Book arrived today! There wasn't a lot of ghostflower sadly, but I wanted to bring something regardless, so let's dig in!

Honestly while I don't consider myself an expert on these types of book, I own a few, and this one is...strange to say the least.

The formatting is off in a few parts, some things that don't make sense with what we are told in the movies, sections of the art book that assume we saw something on the movie that we didn't- I may do a post about it because looking at this book somehow gave me more questions than answers.

But that's a story for another post, let's go!

(Sorry for the quality of the pics, my phone isn't the best and I am not a good photographer myself.)

This one is right at the end, as part of the decoration between the walls of the book and the pages itself; it shows the entire city, but I focused on them for obvious reasons.

Also because the ending shot of this particular scene is one of my favourites in all the movie and seeing it in it's concert art form means a lot to me.

These two were in between pages at the beginning, the text talks more about the general process on the movie than them, so not a lot we can say.

Still lovely, I honestly wish we had more of Gwen and Miles swinging across New York, there is something beautiful and enchanting not only in them moving around in a way only a spider-hero can do, but also almost like a dance between these two.

Not so much ghostfloweer, but I still liked this pic of them together in Hobie's world.

The book acts as if we were suppose to see this world so one of those crazy things about this art book is seeing the stuff that was in the movie before it was cut.

Honestly the making-of this movie would either be insane or extremely edited because this is nuts.

Oh ho ho, we are getting to the MEAT.

Okay, I don't read Scripts very often, but the times I had has been interesting, specially since a lot of times it can reveal some small gags that either got cut on the movie, or that things that were in plain sight that you didn't notice. DEFINITELY will be reading the Script for this movie once I get my hands on it.

In this pic, it shows a deleted joke, either this was going to be in the cut of the movie when the book was in development, or it was left there but was already planned on being scrapped.

What I like about this deleted dialogue is that it shows, once again, that Gwen isn't always at the top of her game. As cool as she can be, she is still a teen who hasn't figured everything out.

I honestly find her more endearing trying to stick the landing and failing that just being cool and collected all the time.

Sorry for the long box of text, wasn't sure where to cut. There are two parts in this I want to highlight.

"They're both trying to impress each other,"

I found this extremely cute because while Miles trying to keep up with her and impress her is obvious (Just like everything else with Miles, as a said, the boy wears his heart in his sleeve and we love him for it,) but to be honest I didn't think Gwen was trying to do the same.

Now I imagine Gwen looking around this New York and trying to see what she could do to impress Miles- I love these earnest dorks.

The awkward gazelle part is also pretty much present in the movie; however I do like the comparison on how Miles himself knows now more than ever what he is capable of, which really shows in the rest on the movie, including in the train chase scene.

(Not really Ghostflower, but I LOVE how Miles never doubt on himself despite what he heard, need to talk about that eventually.)

More art of this beautiful scene, which was sparkled around these notes.

There is not much I want to analyze here as much as to, emphasize it?

Analyzing this movie so much and so often has really gotten to appreciate it to a whole new level, even if during said process I was able to see more of the mistakes and issues underneath.

This scene is really this and more, and what is astonishing is that is not that they are capturing the essence of the scene in some words, but rather come with the concept and create said scene, which is a lot more complicated.

And yet they pulled it off beautifully.

I really liked to highlight this part because 1) I and everyone else may need to start paying close attention to lighting because wow that detail is extremely cool, and 2) It really highlights a whole new layer to this scene.

They are getting close, both physically and emotionally, yet all the things they hide, how they hide themselves in a way, gets in the way of what they truly want. Is amazing because is a struggle that in the details is very much Spiderman, but below it is so human. Which honestly, part of the reason Spiderman as a whole as become so beloved over the years.

(Side note: Stan Lee decided to make Peter Parker in a era where superheroes were adults who basically could do anything, so coming with a teen who would also had teen issues was something that got people calling Stan nuts. Crazy how things how it worked out I'm right?)

Different stages development of this scene because of course I needed to include this, even if i can't say much of it really.

Not much to say here, except that this brief goes beautifully with the next excerpt of the book that I enjoyed.

"At that moment, anything is possible for the two of them." Isn't all of this phrased so beautifully?

While not telling us anything new, I want to relish in this little bits that just makes the scene feel so much whole as you read this.

How both Gwen and Miles don't want this to end, to keep the warmth between them going, to just linger because neither of them want to let the other one go. Frozen in place unable to move forwards for thall the unsaid things, yet refusing to move back.

They are lovely.

And that's all I have for them sadly! This book was extremely odd, it was very much lacking a lot of Miles and Gwen (Which kind of tracks, art books go mostly about design and their design's haven't change much,) but the fact that most of this information was at the end, alongside other things, makes me curious about what the heck went down while making this.

Or other stuff because is not the first time we see the remnants of the other versions of this movie peaking by.

#ghostflower #gwiles #miles morales #gwen stacy #atsv #across the spiderverse #ghostflower files #art book

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myfandomrealitea · 4 months

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Don't ever feel shame for how you learn things.

We're all taught that there's different 'groups' of learning. Visual, auditory, ect. But actually, its a lot more than that, because learning also comes down to retention and processing.

Someone I know was embarrassed to tell me they learned how to fix their shower from TikTok, and after a lot of discussion admitted most of the things they know presently are things they learned off of TikTok, because casually given information with visual steps in a short amount of time is how they best process and retain information.

For me, I can still learn that way, but I've also learned most things in my life from huge chunks of descriptive text. I can look at pictorials and understand them and interpret the actions and steps between them. I can still remember instructions from my earlier school years because the way my brain remembers things best is plain text format.

If you find you're struggling to learn new things, to struggling to remember things you've learned, try re-learning them a different way. Podcasts, TikTok, download .pdf instructions, ect. Go back to it a few times. Learn it in small parts, until you can combine those small parts to remember the whole thing.

If you don't understand something by processing it one way, try it another way!

If you ever felt stupid or unintelligent in school because learning was hard for you, you weren't. I promise. Hours of staring at various textbooks and powerpoints five days a week has never been a one-size-fits-all for learning.

Find your way. And don't be embarrassed about it. The information stays the same regardless of if you learn it from a book or a 30 second video reel.

#myfandomrealitea #sephiroth speaks #reality #not discourse #learning #education #tiktok #videos #school #i hate tiktok with a burning vengeance but like most evils there's still good to be found within #i can excuse the gross chewing “asmr” if you teach me how to crochet a frog

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boyfhee · 1 year

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⌕ TAKE TWO ━━ 19 : all you want

PRECIS. while riki constantly assured you that him being an idol under a different label wouldn't be an issue in your relationship, you start getting second thoughts when fans start shipping him with his co-mc at music bank.

n : written part after the screenshots

w : slight angst, mild fluff ( finally ) - 1.6k

the cityscape stood open in front of you, cold winter winds sneaking under your sweatshirt, a scarf from jungwon that has been keeping you warm for the past fifteen minutes doesn’t seem to suffice as the skies turned darker. looking at the horizon, there’s a certain calmness that soothes your heart, the violets and vermillion hues reflecting ever so majestically over the glass panes of skyscrapers. down below lays the distinct city noise, the honking of cars, tires screeching— a near miss. the cat walks across the road safely, and behind you, jungwon lets out a sigh of relief.

“i’ve never been here,” he chuckles.

you hum, letting a soft smile climb up your face. “me either,” you look at him. he seems to have loosen up. when he arrived, jungwon definitely looked uneasy, or rather, nervous, in case you didn’t want to talk or even see him. but you’re here, and he’s resting his elbow above the railing, letting himself relax. “are we even allowed to be here?”

“not sure, but even if we aren’t, no one has to know,” it’s an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, to make you feel better even if it’s only for a brief second. he wishes to hold your hands and tell you that it will be okay. sometimes, words aren’t enough, and jungwon doesn’t want to ask the words, “how have you been?” but alas, he does anyway.

“i don’t know,” it’s a plain reply, a response of ignorance, as if you know exactly what’s happening to you but you can’t seem to process. it’s like having a spatula to stir your dish but you don’t remember how to use it, and so you simply stand there, watching it burn. “maybe, i overreacted the other day. riki has been texting constantly and i’ve been ignoring him. guess, i’m really scared for what’s about to come,” a sigh falls of your lips, you turn to look at him. “good or bad,”��

“well, you made it so far and now we’re so close to the truth,” and jungwon refuses to look at you. perhaps, it’s the weather or the situation, but he doesn’t want to watch you crying, and the reason has to do with both you and riki. “you should talk to him,” he says, half supportive, half defeated.

if he’s being honest, he doesn’t want you to talk to riki, and if he’s being reasonable, he wishes you would sort things out with him. as said before, it has to do with both of you— one is the love of his life, other being his closest friend. living without either of you seems impossible for jungwon. it’s like an eccentric give and receive, a unique pact, a relationship where all of you are victims and all of you are villains. there’s a hint of jealousy, a heart overflowing with love, a soul drowning in immense pain.

“what if they’re dating?” you ask, it’s more of a whisper.

jungwon takes a step towards you. “you don’t know,”

but, you think you do. trust was something that you never ran out of in this relationship with riki. even now, when everything around has been falling down, when the line between truth and lie has been erased and everything resembles the same, you know a part of you trusts riki. but it’s just a part, just a little corner of your heart lost inside it’s walls and chambers. the trust, it’s like a flickering flame of a candle. your hands are around it, making sure it wouldn’t go out, but you think it would either way. the brightest flames go out first, the longer the candle burns, the shorter it gets. you think you can light another one and replace it but you can’t, because the cold wax has already settled on your hands, and scraping it away would mean taking away a part of yourself.

“what if they’ve been together all this time and i’m here being fooled? what if he has been lying? what if miya was right all along, won—” at this point, you’re not being yourself. you’re crying, your face is buried in your hands, you’re finally letting loose and coming to terms with loss. you’re close to giving up, taking your hands off the candle and letting the winds blow it out. the words that are possibly a lie are now morphing into the truth for you. it feels like you’re watching your lover walk away to someone else while the red strings still hold you together, and you’re doing nothing but looking for the scissors.

so, jungwon pulls you into his arms. “we don’t know anything yet,”

those are the words the world relies upon. people look forward to a surprise because you don’t know what it’s going to be. they’re hooked on thrillers because they don’t know the ending. they hope because who knows, maybe things will change for the better one day. the lack of knowledge is incredible and equally dangerous. you’re stupidly lucky and luckily stupid. while one moment, you thank the heavens for keeping you in dark all this time for you don’t know if you can handle facing the truth; the other, you wonder if things would have been different if only you knew.

your thoughts are laced with irony, there’s a sense of indecisiveness in your actions. your words are uncertain.

you don’t know anymore.

“what did i do to deserve this?” and you cry harder, a few centimeters closer into his arms, a consoling hand on your back that feels warmer. you’re spilling tears on his jacket, he doesn’t seem to mind. the city noise fades into the background as your ears fill with the loud silence along with your soft sobs. if someone was to see you like this, you both will be on the headlines the next day. besides, you don’t have an explanation as for why you were crying relentlessly in jungwon’s arms. you’re concerned, but he doesn’t seem to care. so, you don’t know why you worry about media.

you never knew why riki worried so much about them.

“i’m sorry i can’t help more than telling you the same words over and over again,” his words aren’t much louder than yours, almost just as muffled, if not more. “shit, i’m so fucking sorry for not being able to help,” he holds you closer, his voice shaking, you’re scared he might just be crying on his own, over matters that aren’t even his to being with.

“are you stupid?” and you pull away, sniffling, an awkward chuckle falling off your lips at the sight of wet patches on his clothing. “you’ve helped me more than anyone else, won,”

he awkwardly brushes off the strand of hair in front of your eyes. “i wish i could do more,”

jungwon doesn’t take credit. well, mostly, he does, but for some things, he doesn’t, and those things are the ones that count the most. perhaps, it’s how a leader is supposed to be. he shares his efforts and achievements. anything he does, it’s for the group, it adds into the accounts of all seven members. you don’t know how that logic is applicable right now, but it sure does has an impact on him.

jungwon is so used to sharing, he doesn’t remember how it feels to have something that belongs to him and only him. it’s not a bad thing. you’d never know how it feels to be in his place, but sometimes, it feels like jungwon has forgotten how to live for himself.

“what did i do to deserve you?” those are the words that water the flowers blooming in his heart. you take a step behind, turning to the city scape again. wind strikes cold on your tear stained cheeks, you rub it off on your sleeves. “seriously though, you’ve always been there when i needed you, always down to listen to my complaints and endless rants about riki. i don’t think words can express how thankful i am,”

and jungwon is looking at you— eyes ever so starry, inexplicably in disbelief and desperately in love. “and i don’t know why you helped me so much,”

“because i like you,” and words slip off his tongue like they’re the water flowing down the stream. there’s a pause, a look of surprise from your side, guilt pouring on his part. you could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest, you don’t know the last time you’ve felt this way. “not the very best time, is it?”

but jungwon brushes the silence off with a forced laughter, or rather, tries to. it’s the least he can do to cover up his mistakes. the last thing he wants is to make sure his unplanned confession doesn’t make him look like a backstabber, as if he was trying to get his own way to you through your misery. “don’t think so much about it. it’s just a crush, it’ll go away. you should be focusing on your boyfri—”

fluttering gazes, a step taken towards him involuntarily. you kiss jungwon— a decision made out of impulse.

“does that make it seem like i’m using you?” you pull away, and now the guilt was for both of you to handle. emotions are playing their part, mind out of order, logic off the terrace of your label that you are currently standing on. right or wrong, it’s hard to differentiate.

nothing makes sense, yet everything in his moment with him fits together like a puzzle piece.

so, his hands are cupping your cheeks. “you can use me all you want,” and your lips are back onto his.

PREV | NEXT | MASTERLIST

n : YNWON NATION HOW DO WE FEEL

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2024-grimoire-challenge · 5 months

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December Prep 2

Let's look into a couple of things this week The first is how to properly study, research and gather information and the second is the various kinds of prompts you will see in the challenge throughout the year.

The basic steps in any research process are

Identify and develop your topic (we will have multiple so it will be important to follow the same steps for each topic.)

Preliminary search for information - we will be gathering a list of resources for everyone before the challenge begins including websites, a list of recommended books, and more.

Locate the information/ materials - Gather all your sources into one place! A folder on your pc, or a bookmark bar in your browser can go a long way to helping you keep this organized.

Evaluate and use Discernment on your informational sources.

Take notes! - self explanatory. Using the resources at your disposal, take notes on your selected topic, gather all of those notes, and keep them organized. You don't need to think of this in exact terms of a research paper, but the idea is the same! All of your notes will be helpful in actually filling and creating the pages for your grimoire! But, you also can just keep the notes as they are in your grimoire!

Now lets get on to the types of prompts you will see!

Meditation/ Journal - these will generally be the end of every week and after every practical prompt, so you can look back at what you've done and learned, in order to help you process what you'd done and how you feel and think about it.

Research/ Study - these will include things like herbs, gems, types of magical practices and topics, tools, history

Practical/ Hands on - at least one a week, where you get your hands dirty, so to speak, and really perform some magic or do the work you're studying.

Submissions - I encourage everyone to share their thoughts, ideas, and physical progress within the challenge. You don't have to share pictures, if you're not comfortable, but thoughts and ideas and a short post about what you accomplished!

Holiday/ Seasonal posts - We'll have posts for the typical holidays and some that not so common.

Divination prompts - On occasion we'll have a divination prompt. It won't necessarily require you to perform any divination if you're not comfortable or don't know how, but the option will be there!

Cooking prompt - We've all seen those cool witchy inspired cooking posts on this site. So why not do one? Why not learn to make bread? Or mead? Or cute little pastries? Or anything. This'll be a new prompt, one I encourage everyone to take part in and share!

There may be more of these added as we go, but in general this is all of the types of posts we'll be seeing!

What else is there to do?

Well if you’ve already got notes somewhere (a notebook or files on your computer or what have you) you’re gonna want to actually design a grimoire right? And this is a grimoire challenge right? So let’s look at different design and style options!

If you’ve seen the video I posted of my grimoire pages, they’re very scrapbook/ junk journal styled. Which is a fun and totally customizable option.

Let’s look at some note taking methods, to help us take notes as well as design our grimoire pages, and some scrapbook supplies and ideas for ways to decorate our grimoires.

https://crm.org/news/note-taking-methods#:~:text=There%20are%20many%20different%20methods,and%20Bullet%20Method%2C%20among%20others.

These are just a few links for some ideas.

Your grimoire should suit you, no matter how you choose to design and decorate it. It could be a scrapbook like mine, a bullet note journal, or a leather bound tome with thick ink lettering in a cipher that only you can read. However you want to design it, it should be an expression of you and your practice.

I am excited to be running this challenge again, and to be helping all of your find inspiration for your practices and grimoires!

Good luck and happy crafting!

Mod Hazel

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awingedinsect · 10 days

Text

-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 11

Full series

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: TRAUMA. Processing grief. De@th and loss of loved ones. Descriptions of g0re. This one was a bit difficult to write but it’s an important addition, and something you’ve all been waiting for MIGHT just be at the end! enjoy :)

He remembers that moment.

The way the beach got suddenly so quiet.

How when he looked up from his notebook, he couldn’t see a little head playing in the shallow waves.

He remembers how he ran. The way the wet sand churned under his feet as he called her name, running down the shore.

How the dark waves felt enveloping him, fighting his body off, like it wasn’t welcome in the water; trying to break his bones as his voice got hoarse from screaming.

He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe it…

“I don’t believe it.” II Whispers, eyes dilated and hollow. He sits on the end of his bed, not even looking up at Vessel in the doorway.

“I don’t believe it…”

“II? Can I come in?” Vessel speaks softly, though his lanky frame is a bit stiff. His hands fidget in the front of his hoodie.

II’s wet eyes flick up at him, red lips parting in a tragic shape. He nods.

Vessel steps quietly inside, closing the door till it’s open just a sliver like he found it.

II’s room is plain. Mainly a grey palette, with a few posters and cassette tapes littered around. Clothes are piled up on top of the dresser and the bed is unmade.

He’s been locked up in here, since last night when he saw the news. III and IV had both initially followed him in, trying to console him behind the closed door as Vessel stood outside, helpless.

II was crying.

And he knew he wasn’t supposed to help.

Now, Vessel settles down on the bed next to him, not saying a word. His head is bowed, eyes staring into space for a few beats before nervously flitting over at the drummer.

“…How you holding up?”

II sniffles, wiping his face. He sighs. “I dunno, Vess. I’m fine. I just can’t…” he looks up at him now, those big red eyes almost pleading. “Did you see what he looked like?”

Vessel did.

How could he forget? The image is now burned into his head as permanently as the symbol behind his bangs. Matt’s body, stretched out on the rotten floor of the house. The candles surrounding him, melted into puddles that seeped up around his blue skin and mingled with the blood dripping from the marks on his chest.

Patterns that lace Vessel’s own body.

Venus is dead.

He had to tell himself that over and over again, all night and all morning. She’s dead.

…isn’t she?

Vessel’s hand slips out of his pocket, tentatively moving to II’s knee.

“I know what you’re going through.” He says. “…grief is the toughest pill there is, I think. I wish I could fix it, II.” There’s a desperation in his voice, a little crack that he tries to hide. “…You don’t deserve it.”

“Who could’ve done that to him?” II’s voice is choked again. “Fuckin carved him like an animal.” His eyes meet Vessel’s, and go hollow. “…Did someone try to do that to you?”

Vessel swallows.

He still hasn’t told any of them the story. About Venus, about what happened that night. But he knows they’ve all been thinking about it since the photograph flashed on the tv.

It’s about time he told someone.

“…I dunno if it’s connected.” His voice is low, threatening to get bumpy. “But… you remember that girl who walked up at the bar? At the Blacklit room?”

II nods, confusion in his face. But he lets him continue. “Well, she texted me, about a week after the accident. Had me meet her at the sight. And she… well, she drugged me.”

II’s eyes go wide. “You telling me she did all that to you?” II looks horrified.

“…when I woke up she and her friends had me tied down.” Vessel’s lashes flutter, blinking away a bit of dew that’s gathering. “And then she… got on me. Told me I was some kind of offering, then got her knife out.”

II is silent. They both are for some time.

“…I think she’s dead, II.” Vessel says. “I dunno all that happened, I blacked out again. But she was gone and I… could just feel it.”

He wasn’t about to launch into the whole story. To be honest, he’d kick him out of the house too if he brought up Sleep. Though maybe one day they’ll be able to understand.

“I could be wrong.” He says. “She might still be out there. But no matter what, we’ll get justice for Matthew… I promise.”

Vessel almost thinks he hears the floorboards creak outside the door. He turns his head only for a moment, but II stays still. The drummer bows his head.

“…I loved him, I think.” He whispers. So quiet that it’s barely heard. So soft that Vessel knows it’s only halfway meant to be said; a confession for himself.

“Did you?”

“…maybe. I don’t know. I’ve known him since we were kids, on and off… never was able to shake the feeling that maybe I wanted him more than I had him. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s fuckin dead.”

The words drill straight into Vessel’s chest like a knife. Oh, II…

The water choked him, salt burning his eyes as he swam out into the deep. He couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t hear anything but the water. It dragged on his clothes, trying to swallow him just so it could spit him out.

Vessel’s eyes glaze over, wondering off to a different plane. “…I had a sister, once.”

II looks up at him, blinking. “…not anymore?”

The words come out of his mouth like breathing. Like breathing with lungs full of water and a head full of so many memories it’s about to overflow.

“…I was sixteen.” He continues. “Wasn't supposed to happen, you know?” His voice breaks on the last word, and his throat ties in a knot. He hasn’t talked about it in years. “Just one day and… I lost her. I was supposed to watch her, to make sure she stayed close. I looked away for only a minute.”

II’s face is even paler as he listens, hands knotted in his lap. His eyes are wide as saucers and more intense than Vessel has ever seen them, though he barely dares to take his own off the opposite wall.

He clears his throat, swiping his cheek with a sigh. “…the point is, she gave me a keyboard for my birthday. That same day. She got to hear me play it, said she loved it… she always loved to listen. I was just teaching her how to play the piano that month… She was a natural.” His eyes are full now, lips quivering. But there’s a point to all of this, and he’s gotta see it through.

“Matt was a drummer, yeah?”

II nods, scrunching his hands in his jeans.

“Means he’s not all gone. He’ll be with you now, when you play. In the music and the sound. Just like she’s in the keyboard, and in every the piano. We keep playing for them.”

His hand climbs to II’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “To keep their sound alive.”

II sniffles, nodding. “…thank you.” he says, hunching into Vessel. He wraps his arms around his waist, disappearing into his side like a little shadow. Vessel isn’t sure what to do at first, wet eyes blinking away the fog now that he’s being held. His arms wrap slowly around his friend, hugging him like he hasn’t hugged anyone in awhile.

They sit like that for a few minutes. Neither of them say a word, and neither of them cry anymore. It’s a sacred moment suspended in time and memory that Vessel makes sure to lock away and not forget.

After awhile they part, and Vessel leaves for the door.

“Vess?” II’s voice follows after him. He turns, raising his brows.

“What ever happened to your keyboard?”

The drummer asks. “You still got it somewhere, right?”

Vessel shuffles his feet, fingers gripping the brass doorknob.

“…It was in the motel I was staying in before everything.” He says, swallowing hard. “Probably confiscated, by now. But it’s alright. Maybe it’ll turn up in a pawnshop one of these days, huh?” He tries to smile, for II’s sake. But they both know it’s forced.

II nods, knotting his hand in the bedspread. “Yeah, probably, mate.”

As Vessel walks out, his head turns down the hallway just in time to see III’s door close softly shut.

He hadn’t even heard him.

•••

The house is quiet.

More quiet than usual.

Vessel stands in the kitchen, hand splayed on the counter as he downs a glass of water. His eyes are unfocused, flitting lazily out the window at the pitch darkness and the kitchen reflected in it, trying to gather his thoughts.

Where had he gone?

IV and II are both in their rooms still, having gone to bed hours ago. The sun will be up in an hour or two. But Vessel only managed to grab a bit of sleep before getting up to pace the night away, mind turning sluggishly over the events of the past few days and how they might correlate to III’s sudden disappearance.

“Does he do this often?” He had asked IV as the sun was setting and the bassist was still nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t said he was going anywhere, or even that he had something he needed to do. IV shrugged. “Sometimes… not a lot. But don’t sweat it, I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s not here for breakfast I’ll try calling him again.”

Vessel rubs his eyes, blinking hard. His head still hurts from that bit of an emotional display with II earlier since, honestly, he hasn’t cried in a good long while. And even then, it was hardly a sob fest.

But it certainly could have been.

”If you’ve gotta be sad, why don’t you write about it?” He can hear her say. “Make a song about being sad. That way, when people hear it, maybe it’ll make them happy they’re not alone!”

He closes his eyes, dropping his head back as his fingers tap slowly over the edge of the cold counter. Back and forth… Hands arched… If he listens carefully, he can hear the notes.

A tear slides down his cheek.

Suddenly he hears something down the hall. His eyes flick open, turning around as his fingers go still.

He sets his glass down.

“II?” He whispers, passing by the drummer's door and going straight to the sliver of light pouring out of III’s. He doesn’t remember it being open.

Reaching for the knob, he pushes it quietly and peers inside.

III’s not here.

Nothing is out of the ordinary, the stained glass lamp casting a soft glow over the aesthetically pleasing mess. And yet his heart drops to the floor the second his eyes land on the middle of the bed.

There’s no fucking way. That’s not possible, is it?

An unmanageable frown starts growing on his mouth as he steps inside, hands reaching shakily for the familiar row of pearly white keys. They’re a little scratched, the black surface aged and feeling oddly bare of a white bow.

But it’s perfect.

He presses down a single note, the delicate sound settling into his bones.

“-it’s tuned.”

He turns around, eyes blinking hazily at III in the doorway.

“What?” His voice is half stolen. “How did you- where did you…”

III steps inside, doc martins and a long suit jacket not detracting from the bags under his eyes. He looks exhausted. He wanders closer to Vessel, looking down into his eyes and not stopping, finally. Those long lashes flutter as he looks over him, casting shadows down his cheeks.

His lips part. “…It’s tuned.”

Vessel’s arms are around him before he can stop himself, and III returns the gesture like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like holding him was something he was always meant to do, and that all he needed was the proper time.

“Thank you.” Vessel chokes into his shoulder, hands clawing up the back of the jacket. “T-thank you.”

III’s hands spreads in the back of the singer's hair, holding him tight enough to suffocate him and not showing any sign of letting go.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes.

And that’s it.

…And that’s more than Vessel ever needed to hear from him.

He was spat out. Left on the shore, rejected by the sea and all that it contained. He was desperate. Alone. Made to wander and wonder why he wasn't fit for the same tomb as her, after all.

He waited on the beach, praying to the water. Spreading his hands in the foam and asking it, simply, why.

But it had no answer, and neither did anything else. Not his mother, not one of the flyers in the waiting room a month later. Not a god.

Though he had this insatiable desire; To claw down his mothers heaven, and make sure that the girl was in there. If there was ever a reason for heaven to be real, it was so that she’d be put in it and sheltered forever. Whether or not it was best. Whether or not he’d ever be able to reach her, in the end.

“Let the tide carry you…” his hands draw the sounds out of the freshly tuned keyboard, nodding his head slowly to the music. It’s alive again.

“…back to me.”

Tags: @thevenomousseprent @moonlit-valkyrie @mmendez0124 @yourviscera @rain-down-on-me @xzero01

#vessel #vessel sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token iii #sleep token #sleep token ii #sleep token iv #iii sleep token #jennifers body #jennifer’s body au #sleep token vessel

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the-family-business-83 · 11 months

Text

Unexpected Calling – Part I

Masterlist - WIP

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.

Word count: 1.6k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!

A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.

After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.

If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.

There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.

What the helll...?

Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.

It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.

'Dear mister,

My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.

My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.

– Rosie'

"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.

Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."

'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'

He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...

Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.

He knew that face.

He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.

In short?

He had to do it now.

He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.

But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.

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