#I want legend to hold his own against the deity

[soup-guts]

Trials and Trust Issues

Inspired by @savimatteo2810 ‘s civil war au

[autistichalsin]

One of the most beautiful and understated parts of Halsin's arc is meaning.

In addition to showing kindness- like I mentioned in an earlier post- Halsin's love of nature symbolizes how he finds meaning in small things. It's why he loves honey; it's his little indulgence. It's why he loves ducks, whittling, and whittling ducks; because ducks are migratory birds, but they remind him of finding home.

In nature, Halsin sees life lessons. He sees meaning. He sees strength and protection and love in bears, he sees journeys and homecomings i ducks, he sees joy and simplicity in dogs. He sees strength and resilience and even beauty in trees, beginnings in roots, and wonder in the sky. It all has a meaning to him.

Even less happy things he acknowledges; he sees death as just as important as life, chaos as a necessary counter to order to keep balance (befitting his Druidic beliefs). He sees those who hate small talk as just as worthy of consideration as those who share his own love of rambling, and he sees monogamy as having just as much of a place in the world as polyamory even if the former will never be for him. Everything has a place, and he sees that.

He sees meaning in both the big and small things. He knows there is an underlying message behind so many actions and thoughts and beliefs, and those are important to him. He sees meaning in everything in the natural world, viewing it as a bounty from his deity.

And that actually reflects in his repeated choices to show kindness. It's his way of seeing the meaning of a child's laugh or a refugee's plight and knowing how to respond. It's part of why he's so flexible, because all of the different perspectives and attitudes matter to him.

I find it very telling that in the cut scenes where the characters would have been taunted in the Morphic Pool by hallucinations sent by the brain to dig in to their insecurities, Halsin's was saying that everything was meaningless. That the world should be allowed to burn while Halsin should give up. The taunt would have shown Halsin's struggles at that point in his life- his fight against cynicism (having given up cynicism around the age of 200), his frustrations with the ways cruelty is allowed to flourish (like his heartbreaking comments if Orin kills Yenna in the camp or his comments on the plight of the orphans in the city), his worries that perhaps his efforts are Archdruid were meaningless because he had few successes to show for his efforts. That image would have shown just who Halsin is- someone who wants so desperately, for better and worse, for everything to mean something.

And in overcoming it, Halsin would have shown one of his most beautiful traits- the ability to enact change in subtle ways, not obvious ones. Not in being a war hero or a folk legend, but in making his own meaning, for himself, and often for others too. When he sees children suffering, he makes a community where he can care for them. When he sees a Shadow Curse blight the land for 100 years while no one cares enough to fight it, he holds hope until he can break it himself. When others mock him for being a bear-man who loves honey, he indulges just as much, reasoning that as long as others are affected, he has a right to enjoy himself. When others sigh that he's talking about nature, again, and maybe he should talk about art instead, he turns it back to nature and saying that a tree is one of the most splendorous things in the world. When Halsin is, in his bad ending, left in the Shadow-Cursed Lands to try and break the curse on his own, he finds hope in his brief memories of traveling with the party, using those to sustain himself.

He makes his own meaning of the world. He refuses to believe that it's all without a purpose, even when he's miserable at the Grove or when he has no idea what his purpose is anymore once he breaks the Shadow Curse. He knows there's an answer- and if he can't find it readily, he will make it himself, and that's exactly why he ends up making a commune for those in need in the end, where he is adored by children and presumably adults alike.

Everything and everyone is important to him. He's a sentimental being at heart in a world that wants more than anything to toughen him up and stamp that out of him, and he refuses., and his devotion to kindness and meaningfulness are why he ends up so happy in his ending.

[breannasfluff]

The next morning in the Domain comes with an exuberant awakening. “Link! My dearest friend!”

Sidon’s cheerful greeting has the unfortunate side effect of waking up not only Wild but most of the rest of the Chain as well. They’re lucky no one else is staying at the inn.

Wild doesn’t mind, but Four is shooting him a truly vile look that is all Blue. “Sidon! Let’s move outside so the others can continue sleeping.”

“Too late for that,” someone—who might be Legend under the pile of blankets—mutters.

Grabbing Sidon’s hand, Wild tows him from the room before anyone else considers murder before breakfast. Outside, the sun is just peaking above the hills, casting a warm rosy light across the blue stone. The water sparkles and Wild shades his eyes until he turns slightly.

Only then does he turn his attention fully to the prince. “Sidon! I missed you!” He holds up his arms and the zora sweeps him into a crushing hug.

“I’ve missed you too! Oh, Link, I’ve been so worried about you on this journey! It’s been so little time since you finished the last, and those boys…” Sidon clearly doesn’t want to speak ill of them, but his arms tighten around Wild. “Shall we go catch breakfast and talk?”

“Sure!” The champion doesn’t hop down and Sidon supports him to climb up on his shoulder. This close, the zora carries the unique sweetness of fish and freshwater. It’s not the same as actual fish, but he’s yet to find a closer comparison.

Sidon strides through the Domain, waving a greeting to the few zora who are up. Wild’s legs brace him on the prince’s shoulders, leaving him free to lean against his head. He’s careful to keep the tail free and can’t help but smile when Sidon’s excitement bleeds into a tail wag.

There are scars across the skin on his head and Wild has no urge to add to them with his nips. Really, he needs to explain to Sidon what Fierce Deity said before he Claims him again. The thought has him wrinkling his nose and pressing firmer against cool scales. He doesn’t want to give up Sidon.

The prince checks his grip before diving into the waterfall and swimming upward. Wild whoops as they leap clear of the top and continue. At the top of the second Sidon lets his legs absorb the impact before walking forward. Toto Lake, with its sunken structures, is one of their favorite places to swim and catch breakfast.

The water isn’t as deep as in the Domain, but the ruins add a fun challenge to swim through.

“Ready, my friend?”

“Always!”

They dive into the water and break away from each other. Fish dart through the ruins; an easy catch. Wild stuffs one between his teeth and whacks the other with a rock, then swims to the shore. Sidon pulls himself out a moment later with a fish of his own; he likely already caught and ate one.

Wild holds out the wiggling fish and the prince bites off its head before handing it back. He offers the second fish for the same treatment, then settles on the grass to eat. The zora are some of the few who don’t squawk about raw fish and eating things whole. Sure, they taste good cooked, but it doesn’t beat fresh caught fish. Certainly not eaten in the early morning with his friend.

Sidon steals little glances at him before giving in. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Link. How are things going with the group?”

“Better, actually.” He pauses to rip out another chunk of fish and chew. “Yeah, better. We had some bumps”—the situation with Sky comes to mind—”but some good changes, too. Did you know that Time has a mask with a deity in it?”

“Oh? Does he?” The prince manages polite interest—barely. Fish bones crack between his teeth when he takes a bite.

“Yeah! Fierce Deity! I wish you could meet him; he’s so cool! He’s like me.”

“Amazing?”

Wild blushes and looks down at his half-eaten fish. “I don’t think amazing is the word for it.”

“Link.” Sidon puts his fish down and turns to Wild, guiding his face to look up at him. “You are my most cherished friend. Anyone who doesn’t treat you with respect and kindness doesn’t deserve to be around you or counted in your opinion of yourself. It doesn’t matter what people say about you, because they are strangers. They don’t know you like I do.”

His cheeks are burning and he can’t keep eye contact. “You’re the only one who likes me.”

Sidon’s laugh is light and airy for his size. He laughs like his sister, even if Wild doesn’t remember how he knows this. “That’s not true and you know it.” He bops the champion on the nose, then picks up his fish. “You have Zelda and Riju. The Rito, yes? Beedle? The stablemasters? I’ve heard you mention many people who cherish you.”

“Fine,” Wild whines good-naturedly, and goes back to his fish. “Maybe you have a point.”

“Of course I do.”

They both work on their fish. Wild hands the remains of his first to Sidon, who happily eats the parts he doesn’t prefer. It’s as he’s working on the second fish that the prince starts again.

“So, this Fierce…Deity. Tell me more.”

Read the rest here!

[cutthroatcarnival]

Revered Deity, Unknown Hero (9/10)

Read chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Find it on AO3 here!

Late Night Epiphanies

The voice in his head wouldn’t stop nagging him. So here he was, sitting awake in his own living room with a dog-eared book Flora had kindly given to him; “The Legend of Hyrule: The Eras’ Heroes”. Yet no matter how many times he read it, there was no mention of the Hero of Warriors, or any of the events he had told stories about over a campfire. The captain had to be a hero, the Master Sword and Triforce proved it, but why wasn’t he recorded? If Warriors wasn’t a hero, the Master Sword never would have recognized him; as soon as Sky had offered the blade to him, he had grabbed her hilt- it was rude to call her an ‘it’- the captain would have suffered a burn. But nothing ever happened. She had chimed, and Sky had welcomed the Hero of Warriors as their newest addition.

And a visible Triforce didn’t pinpoint any one of them as the hero either, Four and Wild were proof of that, neither bore the physical mark on the back of their dominant hand. The power of the Triforce of Courage flowed through them all- and whatever the Spirit of the Hero was. Legend rubbed the bridge of his nose with a quiet groan; why was this all so convoluted? He had been scouring this book for answers for hours, and if he looked out the window, he would see the pitch blackness that came with the midnight hours. Sleep had not been kind to him, floating in but never quite settling in. Reading had been his next option. Staring into the embers of the crackling fire in the hearth, he ran his fingers across the embossed title, tracing every letter and punctuation, thoughts running like a raging river.

Legend violently jumped as he felt a hand touch his shoulder, “Sweet Golden Goddess jubilee!” He slapped a hand over his now racing heart, whipping around to glare at the culprit; a giggling Ravio. “What do you want?” He slumped further into the armchair, bringing the book up to smack against his forehead, hiding his annoyed expression and small smile. The swishing sounds of fabric grew closer, “Well, Mr. Hero, you weren’t in any of your usual spots for when sleep evades you, so I tried my next best guess!” Legend dropped the book, raising his brow at the merchant; he still hadn’t answered his question. Ravio drew closer and perched himself on the arm of Legend’s seat, “What’re you reading?” Still avoiding his question then. He held the book up to the Lorulian, who slipped it out of his grip, turning the book this way and that as he scanned it over.

“‘The Legend of Hyrule: The Eras’ Heroes’?” Ravio let the book drop back into his lap, tilting his head to fix Legend with a look. He rolled his eyes, “I’ve been curious about something, and had hoped that it would provide me answers.” He removed it from Ravio’s lap and gently tossed it onto the table in slight frustration, “I don’t understand how Warriors can bear the Triforce, hold the Master Sword, and have tales of his adventure, but have none of it written in ink!” Legend slammed his palm against the arm of the chair, emphasizing his point and anger, but in the same moment it all melted out of him, leaving him to sigh and slump sideways into Ravio, who merely shifted to keep balance. The only noises filling the silence were the critters of the night and the popping embers, it seemed to stretch on for hours until Legend heard the intake of a breath.

“Remember that time I disappeared for a few months?” Not what he was expecting, “Yes?” Legend tilted his head up, trying to search the merchant’s face for anything, but the dark cloaked most of it. “I wasn’t in Lorule. Like with you and these portals, I was sucked through one into a new world- a new era, even. To be nice, I’ll spare the details, but there’s a reason I knew who Time, Warriors, and Wind were before they were ever introduced,” Ravio turned his head to look down at Legend. “That war he fought in? I was there with him. So were a young Time and an older Wind.” Legend blinked up at him, trying to comprehend everything Ravio had thrown at him. “He wasn’t the most well-liked with the whole war going on as- how do I say this- many of the people blamed him for the war starting, as well as blaming him for any casualties that occured. The rest is his to tell, but that may be why you see nothing about him in ink.” Legend smacked his forehead with his palm, groaning as it set in- that made so much sense. If, for some asinine reason, Warriors was that greatly disliked by his own people, of course there would be no record of him. They would never record a hero they had no reverence for. Even Legend himself didn’t have much about him documented, but it was more for the fact that most of his adventures happened overseas and across different worlds.

The squeaking laughter from Ravio made Legend drop his hand, glaring at the giggling Lorulian, who flapped a hand in the form of an apology, the other one stifling the noise. “I’m glad I make such good entertainment for you, Ravio.” His words only served to make the merchant laugh harder, hunching over to the side as his shoulders shook. It took a while for him to calm down, breathing out heavily to bring himself down, and bringing himself to center, leaning against the back of the chair. “How do I figure this out? I can’t ask him, even he seems to have no idea what is going on. What other books could I check?” Legend rocketed up in realization, startling Ravio and nearly making him topple off the arm. Another book. The book Wild had brought out a while back, the one with the pictures of the Deity of War, who looked eerily similar to their captain. Legend gasped. That’s it!

Legend shifted to be face-to-face with Ravio, grabbing him by the shoulders and excitedly shaking him, “Where did we put those books on gods, goddesses, and deities?” He stood from the chair, dragging a willing Ravio with him as the merchant directed him to the basement. They had some books to find.

[archersgaymerblog]

LRB but I haven’t been able to stop thinkin about it goddamn the POTENTIAL of that situation and no one out here is exploring it… I’m in a perpetual state of suffering HEVDJSB

But like. Volo, this clearly very kind and caring trainer to his Pokémon, coming across a weakened Giratina and genuinely opening his heart to them. Or, or! Perhaps Giratina was targeting Volo from the beginning, again the idea of using one of Arceus’ own worshippers, one of Arceus’ own people, and turning him against them… but either way, I can just see Volo honestly and wholly wanting to help Giratina.

Though Celestican legend speaks of this Pokémon having been banished by the Original One for their violence, their desire for destruction, and their previous places and altars of worship were destroyed for their treachery… there was, at one point, a time where Giratina knew peace, right? That they were ever worshipped at all, Volo knew his people once knew the great power of Giratina, and respected them as one of their own pantheon, and to see them now, weakened and debased… perhaps it reminded Volo of his own self, of the trauma and alienation he’d felt throughout his life. By then, he was already seeking out Arceus, desiring answers, and I can plausibly imagine that Giratina… preyed on that. Convinced Volo that the only answers he would receive from Arceus would be those of heartbreak - that his true motive needed to be one of total domination over Arceus, that he might take Arceus’ power and wield it himself. And yes, of course, of course it’d be so no one else would suffer so cruelly as they have, of course. Giratina likely didn’t care what happened once Volo received that power, whether Volo could actually wield that power without it completely overcoming his being and killing him in the process - it was enough to them that the world would be destroyed in the act, all of Arceus’ work lost.

But also, fast forwarding, I don’t think it was just the player’s beatdown that convinced Giratina to decide they wanted to protect the world instead of destroy it. Just that situation on its own seems… kind of wild to change the mind and motives of an ageless, stubborn, eldritch deity. I think Volo, the character with three friendship evolution Pokemon (two of which have notable Pokédex entries which say they will leave on a motherfucker if they dislike them!), may have been Giratina’s first steps into deciding the world their parent made was worth protecting. I mean, if humans like Volo existed, perhaps the rest of humanity wasn’t so bad, right? Volo, who nursed Giratina, who helped train them and make them stronger, who, while clearly still revering Giratina’s divinity, treated them as kindly as he did his own partners? And then came the human that humbled Dialga and Palkia, and Giratina was defeated twice by them, and while they respect the protag’s strength, it’s the desire to protect the world they came to care for that stuck out to Giratina. If someone could love the world so much that they would spit in the face of the gods, not once or twice, but three times… there must be something there worth protecting.

… and so Volo was left abandoned, once by Arceus, then by Giratina, and if you have headcanons similar to mine, that’s an even longer list. Frankly the angle of Volo being used by Giratina makes him an interesting foil to the main character - who is the protagonist of PL:A if not a pawn sent by Arceus to do their bidding?

Once again am I capable of holding onto even a single thread of a thought while making a post? Not yet but TL;DR I love Volo and explorations of Volo’s character very much

[sonicasura]

Cursed Generator Links P1

First of three posts involving the 14 Links I pulled from the generator, 5 per post with the last having a custom Link. These are mainly headcanons with a few summaries to them. Key features in appearance, things they like and a bit of their abilities. Once I get a drawing done, I'll add a link to the corresponding one. Let's get started!

Hero of Stitch 'Patches'

Hyrule's chosen hero from the Downfall Timeline after Legend who dies before his battle against Ganon. Using a mix of magic and special thread called 'Ambisilk', Patches was brought back to life as a living patchwork chimera.

Mostly humanoid in appearance with a few out of place parts either belonging to monsters or different people. Ex: Goron stone hide, Lynel horn, and mismatched eyes.

Hates his hero title as he doesn't really think himself a 'great hero.' Prefers to be called Patches because he ain't Link. The hero died and his body was butchered to make him.

Likes shining objects, animals and collecting stuff. Moves similar to Miss Fortune from Skullgirls, meaning he can manipulate his body in unbelievable ways that are fatal for everyone else. Crafting materials like parts are needed for Patches to heal.

Hero of Blade 'Augus'

Hyrule's hero from Twilight's timeline albeit his placement is unknown. Originally a vessel for a demigod of Gluttony to takeover through a ritual using his beloved blade 'Wailing Dark'. It fails as the hero manages to escape with both sword and jumbled memories.

Hair turned snow white, red markings cover most of his body and half his arms are plated in a growing gold carapace due to the ritual. Split personalities: Link the shy dork that likes sewing and flower picking.

Augus, a lover of alcohol and fighting who will drink anyone under the table alongside tossing Gorons like stones in wrestling. If this personality is in control then his eyes will be pure white.

Can only be hurt if struck by magic and enchanted weapons as Blade's body is invulnerable to normal blows. Able to channel gluttony into pure energy for all sorts of mixed combat.

Hero of Stage 'Phantom'

A college theatre professor who became trapped in a forbidden script book called Necro of the Opera. Placed into the role of the Phantom Hero heavily altering his body so he could face the evil within each play world.

Face disfigured similar to DC's Jonah Hex because of his Phantom role. Wears a porcelain mask that looks eerily like the FD mask to cover said disfigurement. Wiry bulky frame thanks to his role than his normal skinny self.

Assassin type fighter with a knack for detective based work and can talk to the dead when needing information. Link is actually a nickname as his real name Shawn but he can't reveal it due to his role's restriction.

Collector especially if it involves books or any type of manuscript. Likes learning different languages and dabbles in fencing a few times. Hates prophecies.

Hero of Ink 'Ichor'

The star character of a modern era rubberhose children's cartoon akin to Kirby (without the eldritchness). Ichor was forcibly brought to life in an experiment called Project Lifelike, run by TriceCorp. Manages to escape the lab and seek an identity of his own.

Has two different form. One looks like a rubberhose version of Link's Awakening Remake and the other a twisted gnarly Fierce Deity/Ben Drowned visage. This is due to him being the first experiment with a 'human' design.

Happy to help those who really need him against the entire world philosophy. Will proudly give the middle finger to someone who shoves the 'Fate of the World' schtick on him like with the Chain. EX: You sure your so called Goddess doesn't want to show her precious toys off in every era?

Follows the Laws of Cartoon Physics, both it's strengths and weaknesses. Can hide himself in paper to even skin as long as the material can hold ink. Advanced Ink Manipulation in twisted form.

The Hero of Death 'Charon'

A game designer who becomes the heir to Death's seat by accident. This begins with him helping spirits find peace until forces very unhappy with this arrangement try to take his 'inheritance'.

Looks like a younger Time but his iris has become silver due to his magical inheritance. Can take any form that is a depiction of the Death God in some way, even media as his true form hasn't been awakened. Prefers Persona 3's Thanatos as his set appearance.

Actually has no issue helping the deceased even if some spirits' forms are heavily mangled. Just hates being forced to fight. Has a grandson-grandparent relationship with Death themselves especially since the god genuinely cares about his interests or concerns.

Can commune with the dead, traverse the Spirit World and ask for assistance from various spirits. Knows when someone is gonna die alongside being able to change that fate via a special method called "Death's Game". A challenge where the results are determined by different games of chance or skill.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see back in Hyrule. Before I go, have this Jonah Hex reference for Phantom and P3 Thanatos reference for Charon.

[terry-perry]

Could i please request something where both Marc Spector and Bucky Barnes are in love with you? I love the way you write for both of them and they're both so similar, you know?

They kinda are, aren't they?

An idea I came up with. Can be read as like an AU for my Steve Rogers AU, but also can be read as its own thing.

Marc was introduced to the team after they learned of his background as a mercenary and how he helped save the city of Cairo not too long ago. He was a little rough around the edges, but managed to get along well with everyone. Especially with Y/N.

She was patient with him the way no one else seemed to be. She showed genuine effort in trying to understand his complicated life that also involves Steven.

Speaking of, Steven definitely liked her. He enjoyed talking to her about where she came from and how it compared to the myths and legends he learned about Asgard. She detailed everything to him as she was equally fascinated by his knowledge in Egyptology. Her people were aware of other deities and the multiple afterlives. She was curious about them since she was a child, but could only learn so much from her family's library. Her father, being who he was, felt no need for such knowledge unless it was important to Asgard.

She was happy to have someone with similar interests.

Bucky, on the other hand, didn't know what to make of this. For one thing, it takes time for him to fully trust others. Y/N had been one of the few exceptions. It was first because of how Steve trusted her, and he trusted Steve. But then there was Wakanda. That was the time he knew he could trust her with his life and vice versa. He became loyal to her as she took care of him and his mind. She helped put it back together as well as his heart.

He never told her of his feelings. During that time, she was still with Steve. Afterwards, it still didn't feel right. He wouldn't even know where to begin with trying to court someone like her. She was special and only deserved the best.

This Marc and his alter Steven certainly seemed to have the same idea. He watched her with them, how she shined with fascination at whatever Steven would tell her. He'd see the way she'd comfort Marc in a similar way she did when Bucky was doubting himself all those times.

He didn't hold it against her for spending time with him. She was a naturally kind person who cared about the well-being of others. He couldn't deny, however, the fact that he wanted to keep her good heart all to himself. What they had was special to him. Call it selfish, but he didn't want to share it.

Thus began this competition for her attention. Bucky and Marc came up with various reasons to spend time with Y/N during the last few weeks. Trying to be the first one to pair up with her for assignments, offer assistance only they can offer, ask for assistance only she can offer. During their free time, trying to find moments alone with her even if for a minute.

It wasn't anything personal between the men. They liked and respected each other enough. But there was definitely a rivalry forming between them. And apparently it was starting to become obvious.

"You both need to chill the fuck out,"

Sam's lecturing tone was bad enough, but now Sharon came by their table to hiss at the two of them.

She had just come back from helping Y/N into her dress. They were working undercover in London, which led them to a club in one of the seedier parts of the city. The person that ran the operation they were on the lookout for also ran that place. They managed to get in with forged invites and IDs, some mind tricks from Y/N, and her cover of being an up-an-coming singer that was supposed to perform that night. It was obvious why the men of the club actually wanted her there, but whatever could get the team in.

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asked.

"Whatever is going on between you and Y/N. You two have been all over her since day one."

"I told them," Sam stated, still looking at the guys with disappointment. "You guys might as well go on opposite sides and see who she goes to."

"It's not like that," Marc tried to explain. Though he was also starting to worry. He didn't want to think they were coming on too strong and making Y/N uncomfortable.

"It's exactly like that," Sharon argued. "And if you bothered to notice, you'd know she's got enough to worry about without you fighting over her attention."

"What do you mean?" Bucky asked.

"Think about it. All of her family is gone, she's had to deal with the responsibilities of being a queen -- something she didn't even want to be in the first place. Plus, she's still trying to deal with the fact that Steve's gone."

A stunned silence fell among the table with only the sound of the live band and rowdy crowd being a form of white noise until Bucky spoke.

"I thought that was mutual," he said confused.

He knew that was a stupid thing to say the second he said it. So did everyone else.

"So?" Sharon asked nastily. "That doesn't mean it didn't hurt when he left. Steve was the love of her life. She thought they were going to be together forever. But not only does she realize he never moved on from Peggy, but also has a way to get back to her? It's not exactly something that makes you feel worthy of love."

"Look," Sam sighed, looking at the pair of chastised men in front of him. "We're not saying you don't care about her. I'm sure y'all do. But instead of focusing on what you can have with Y/N, just be there for her."

[seventhdecrees]

There was a concentrated brightness to his eyes as he watches her work. How steel and flame manages to be such a content home away from home when it comes to the Lord of Electro. Things like this were meshed well into legends, how such a rare sight of the Narukami Ogosho actively bringing divine weaponry their first breath to either her own hand or to her retinue. To Thoma, it looked like she was truly having a lot of fun. Whether it was solely in the realms of holding pride in this hobby, or to past thoughts remain a mystery. "I can almost hear this weapon sing as its being formed. It feels pretty happy."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The deity was usually seen in such elegant light down to her attire and makeup. Being back at the smithery on the other hand brought back that eager spark behind her violet eyes with the clash of the hammer against the heated metal and soot caked up on her cheeks.

Good nostalgia folded her mind with each blow causing her to look lost in thoughts but those memories were cut short by finishing off the blade with a quick prayer for divine guidance, and that her efforts will please the deity. Even if she's no longer the deity, may Makoto bless this newly forged naginata like many weapons before it.

Now she needs to prepare the ‘Core’ or shingane. A piece of tamahagane, about the size of a brick, is heated in the forge until softened. then hammered until it becomes slightly elongated. At this point, the archon folds it in half crosswise and the entire procedure is repeated approximately ten times. The process of heating, hammering, and folding drives out impurities present in the steel. After these steps are completed, the core is heated and hammered into the shape of a long, thin metal wedge. It's then set aside while the jacket steel, or kawagane, is prepared.

For the jacket steel, the archon carefully selects tamahagane which is harder in carbon content. Again, a piece about the size of a brick is repeatedly heated, hammered, and folded over upon itself. The jacket steel undergoes this process many times more than the core , resulting in steel which is composed of nearly 30,000 "folds", or layers. These layers produce the subtle and beautiful grain — jihada that will become visible on the surface of the blade once it's polished. In the final stages, the jacket steel is hammered out until it measures slightly longer than the piece of core steel made previously. It's then re-heated and wrapped around the core.

Ei carefully heats and hammers the two pieces together until they form a solid metallurgical bond. Extreme care must be taken during this process to ensure that no gaps are left between the jacket and core steels, and that no dirt or debris is trapped there. To do so would result in air bubbles or voids which would seriously weaken the blade and render it worthless in battle. After the two pieces of steel are joined, the smith continues to heat and hammer the blade until it measures close to the desired length.

She polished the polearm to make it fully shine after it was cooled. Unconsciously, Ei rubs more debris on her forehead but she can wash it off later — the finished product was a deep crimson-red polearm with gold and black accents matching its soon-to-be owner. The habaki was made of shiny gold-like brass; the habaki is a small metal "collar" which fits snugly over the blade at the point where the tang (nakago) meets the blade.

She wrapped a tassel around the staff’s socket as a decoration to give off more of that passionate pyro flames that flare up in battle. The blade was sharp and angular with the steal shifting sliver to orangey gold like pyro energy. She wanted this polearm to fully reflect the user element and flair!

“ You may name your newly forged weapon. May you give it a proper story whether it be battle or training. ”

[dandelion-sugar]

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 『Adam x Reader』

Summary: Reader was Adam's first wife before he married Eve.

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, death, deities are really cruel

15,8k

Author's note: Requests for Genshin have not been forgotten! I'm working on it BUT I just finished season one of Record of Ragnarok and needed to write about Adam. I think he deserves more writing about him...he's the best husband and father Earth could have!

"A demoness? A succubus? No! A human whose legends turn her into a fearsome ruler of the underworld! She rules an entire army with an iron fist! Made of the clay of creation, she is made in the image of the gods! N°00000000002 : Lilith!" shouted Heimdall to announce your entrance.

You have been chosen to save humanity. The creation of Adam and Eve. You don't know why Brunhilde trusts you to save the humans. What could she possibly have been thinking in choosing you? Were you the best choice for this? Protecting the beings conceived by your ex-husband and his new wife. Unlike your ex-lover, you refuse to walk around naked. Your body is far too precious to be revealed to the world. You stand in the middle of the arena waiting patiently for Heimdall to finish presenting your opponent.

Your eyes rest on your army led by your only son. The only being you have ever given birth to. The third human born. A slight smile appeared on your lips. Your son resembled his father, and you found that particularly funny. You couldn't help but think that Adam's genes were particularly strong. But the way your son stood proudly at the head of your army...he took that from you. Even if you were to perish in this fight, you know that your army and your son will come through.

Your right hand will be around the shaft of your spear. You hear the mocking laughter of the gods, announcing your crushing defeat. You hear the hesitant whispers of humans about your place among the fighters of humanity. You are known in human legends to be a danger to pregnant women and newborns. To be honest with yourself, you hate this legends. You are a mother, how can humans think that you would harm a woman and her child? Your eyes drop slightly to the floor and your lips pucker into an unpleasant pout. After a few seconds, your face frees itself of all displays of emotion and your hand rises to challenge Heimdall.

"Yes, Lilith?" asks the god who has the role of announcer.

"I will not fight under that name," you announce.

"Huh?" he blurts out in surprise.

"I will not fight under the name of the monster the humans wanted to make me," you reply immediately.

"So...what do you want to be called?"

Lying in a meadow, you enjoy the sun and the soft breeze on your bare skin. Rabbits and foxes quickly surround you to enjoy the comfort with you. Everything is perfect in the Garden of Eden. A shadow covers your face, forcing you to open your eyes to discover the obstacle between you and the sun. It is a pleasant surprise when you discover your husband's welcoming smile, his blonde locks framing his face. Adam sits down beside you, placing his fruit basket between his legs. He pulls out a bunch of grapes and takes one between his long fingers. He then brings the fruit to your lips to let you savour the sweet, pleasant taste of the fruit. A sigh of contentment crosses your lips. Your husband's smile widens as he notices your relaxed state.

"You have grape juice running down your chin, Lilith," Adam informs you.

Your eyelids droop slightly as your eyes express your displeasure. Adam only lets a laugh emit from his throat as he leans forward to lick the grape juice off. Your hand gently but firmly pushes him away. You want him to understand that his gestures of affection will not be tolerated again until he realises his mistake. And you know perfectly well that he has understood what he has done.

"Stop teasing me," you say, a frown appearing on your face.

"I like to see your eyebrows furrow. You look like that kitten that was trying to scare us." replies Adam, running his hand over your hip stroking it in lazy circles, as if to soothe you.

"But unlike that kitten, I can bite," you reply sharply.

"I know you can..." he hums in the hollow of your ear. "Y/N."

This memory was a moment of pure happiness that you experienced in the Garden of Eden before you were forced into exile. This name you chose with Adam was the beginning of your independence from the gods. You had never accepted the principle of being subject to a man and Adam always supported you in this choice. But the gods did not like this and in response you abandoned the name they gave you at your creation. Perhaps this is why Eve was created from Adam's rib? To prevent her from becoming like you.

"Y/N. Call me that," you proudly announce.

The gods of your creation frown but do not protest. They hope that you will perish against one of their own and that your soul will disintegrate in space and time.

Adam had slipped out of the room where he was locked up. When he learned of your presence here, he did not expect you to fight for the humans. The children he had with another woman. He snuck into the bleachers to get a better look at your figure. A sense of nostalgia stirs in his heart as he sees that you haven't changed in all this time. You stand with dignity, your weapon in hand. You are strong and independent, you have become the woman you always dreamed of. A woman you could not have become if you were in his company because...everyone wants his wife to be submissive to him.

Adam does not regret his married life with Eve, he enjoys it too. But he has enjoyed the life he has lived with you. He believes in your victory. He wants you to win. He does not want to witness your complete disappearance from the universe without any chance of reincarnation. Your first separation has already split his heart in two, Adam does not want to experience this intense pain a second time.

You swing your divine spear with one hand, deflecting your opponent's first blow. The strength in this attack was not worthy of a god, was he testing your abilities? Your eyes meet. The victorious and arrogant smile on the god's face already irritates you. He underestimated you because you are a human AND a woman. His leg comes to sweep over yours but you manage to dodge by gaining height. You position your spear, blade towards the ground to pierce his skull. The god quickly dodges in a backward leap, leaving you to land on the ground, puncturing the concrete floor which cracks under the impact.

Your exchange of blows lasts for a while. Or should we say: the god throws blows at you that you deflect with your spear. But suddenly, his paterne changes. The force that the god uses becomes more powerful. His leg comes to meet your stomach. You prevent the blow from reaching your skin by placing your spear between your stomach and his leg. Unfortunately, the attack sends you flying a few metres away. You manage to land with difficulty and before you can regain a stable footing, the god launches himself at you. You are forced to fall to the side in a roll to narrowly dodge the punch. Your cheek begins to bleed.

"Mother!" your distraught son shouts.

"Commander! Get up!" your soldiers shout to encourage you.

You let out a breath, your muscles relax, making your movements more fluid and lively. Your eyes fall on the figure of your opponent. The aura around you changes completely, causing the small smile on the god's face to disappear. Your hands grip the spear and your feet anchor themselves to the ground to give you a good foothold.

"Answer my question before we resume this fight. Why are you fighting for the humans?" the god asks.

"Do I need a reason to fight? The gods have forced me to be submissive and men have clothed me in a veil of monstrous lies. It's like choosing between the plague and cholera," you explain. "But I had to choose and I chose my ex-husband's children.

The humans observing the exchange begin to stir, either out of guilt or because they were moved by your story. Humans get teary-eyed easily, you think. But you can't help but find this side of them very touching. Perhaps it was a good thing that Eve was the Mother of humanity?

"Humans have the will to survive and a strength that allows them to constantly evolve. This is a strength that the gods can never possess," you say with contempt.

Your hatred for the gods is much stronger than your hatred for humans. On your words, the fight resumes. You manage to follow your opponent's movements. Like Adam, you were forged from clay in the image of the gods. You are Adam's equal, you have the same ability as him to copy the techniques you see. Your movements remind the gods of Athena. You had copied the movements of this goddess a long time ago.

Your body and that of your opponent are covered in blood. You are bleeding from the wounds inflicted on you, but you were able to avenge yourself by seriously injuring your opponent as well.

Adam clenches his lips into a thin line, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands but he still believes in your victory. You must win. You can't give him up a second time...you can't.

"They've created a second wife for you," you scream indignantly.

"You're the only one for me," Adam admits in an attempt to calm your nerves. He can't bear to see you cry.

"It's only a matter of time before the gods kick me out of the Garden of Eden! I don't understand their desire to have me submit to male authority! Do goddesses submit to male deities?" you growl in frustration. The anger was so strong that you can't hold back the tears.

"If they chase you away then I'll go with you," Adam announces, interlacing your fingers together.

A soft warmth spreads through your chest as a gasp of surprise passes through your lips. A slight blush marks your cheeks as you look away from your husband. You can't help but enjoy the tender feeling. Adam wraps his muscular arms around you in a soothing embrace. His scent calms your restless nerves.

"Spend the night with me tonight," you whisper.

"We always sleep together," he says, tilting his head to the side, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Adam..." you gasp shyly. It almost sounded like a soft moan.

His blue eyes widen slightly as the implied request is processed by his brain. A teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to your blushing ear to whisper provocative words.

That was the last evening you spent in his company before the gods kidnapped you and threw you away from the Garden of Eden. You never tried to return to that place, you knew it wasn't possible. So you did your best to survive. You were able to thrive and enjoy your newfound independence.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son: Eurynome. A child identical to his father, who grew up with you as his only role model. He has become an independent young man capable of leading an army. But he remains a child... a child afraid to be alone without the reassuring presence of his mother.

It is impossible to understand the pain of losing a parent when you have not experienced it. No one could understand a tenth of the pain of Eurynome's scream as the god's fist plunges into your chest.

Your eyes crinkle under the sudden fatigue your body feels. Your right hand struggles to hold the spear. The humans weep in despair as the gods celebrate the downfall of Lilith, the woman who did not obey divine orders.

Nausea takes hold of Adam's body. All that blood, your blood spilling on the floor. Will you die? Disappear forever...you don't even know that he witnessed your fight. You will never know that he missed you terribly. You will never know that he wanted to feel your warmth in his arms again and whisper those three words to you.

Your eyes linger on your son's tear-streaked face. A peaceful smile appears on your lips. A fire of determination shines in your eyes. Your hand tightens around the spear and you slice the god's jugular before collapsing to your knees. If you must die...then you will prevent the gods from achieving a victory as well.

Your eyes slowly close and your hearing becomes increasingly blurred. The voices are now just an indistinguishable din.

Adam could only watch as your body and the god's dematerialize into a smoke of green glitter. His legs move towards the battlefield as if trying to retrieve the flakes that represent your soul dissolving into space. But your son's crying snaps him out of his trance. His eyes fall on a miniature version of himself.

Cain and Abel have some characteristics of their father but Eurynome is a carbon copy of Adam and you would have to be blind not to notice. Adam walks over to your son and takes him in his arms, sharing his pain. Adam fully understands the tug of war that Eurynome feels.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son. Today, this gift will show the world that you existed. That you are not like your legends.

You are an independent woman, a mother and Adam's wife.

"Adam," you call to your husband, who is perched on a tree branch.

"Yes?" he hums, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't you think I'm strange?" you finally question him. "Do you think I owe you obedience too?

Silence passes between the two of you. A pain assails your heart at this lack of response and you instantly regret having asked him the question. The disappointment was much stronger than you had thought. You look up abruptly when you hear a thud only a few feet away. Adam had just jumped from his branch. His back was to you. He turns towards you, his face devoid of emotion. He encircles your cheeks with his warm palms. His piercing blue eyes almost seem to probe your soul and you struggle to hold his gaze. But your desire to know the answer prevents you from looking away.

"We are husband and wife, I accept you as you are. Don't change for the world, for anyone," Adam says with conviction.

"So...you love me like this?" you ask aloud, wanting to sound confident.

Adam looks at you slightly surprised at this sudden question. He hums softly before leaning in to kiss your forehead. The smile he flashes makes your heart race.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too..." you admit after a few moments.

[lazysublimeengineer]

of glamorous appearances and intrigues

Summary: One shot sequel to Umbrella Man.

Everyone is here for the infamous Takemichi Hanagaki.

And enticing him to join in their own gang has proven to be difficult than they initially thought.

Characters: Senju K., Takemichi H. & I. Wakasa

Draken watched warily the surroundings around them. His face and stomach still hurt like fucking hell after he was punched like a sack of potatoes by that bastard Terano. Nevertheless, that was the least of his worries and his major concern now was the nervous, scrawny blond beside him as every gang leader present here wanted to swoop Takemichi right away into their gang once they managed to convince him to join their team.

Fuck, their crybaby hero was always a magnet for trouble and dangerous people.

He can’t even imagine the clusterfuck that they’ll have to face if Mikey and his gang arrives here all of a sudden.

The tension has gotten too thick now that one could sliced it with a bread knife once the gang leader of Brahman and the top 2 of the three deities, Kawaragi Senju, has arrived here with a dramatic entrance of landing a solid kick to the face of Terano after distracting him of his flying umbrella.

Served him right. That fucking bastard.

Draken glanced at Takemichi with a neutral expression on his face. The poor boy was getting more nervous and bewildered by the events unfolding in front of him. He needed to remind him to keep his shit together and refrain from making any sudden, impulsive decisions that he may predictably regret in the end. However, before he could even speak to him, a loud smacking sound into the ground had caught his attention and his eyes landed on Shion being plummeted by a severe punch of another newcomer that made Draken instantly cautious and alert.

“You’re a disgrace to Black Dragon! So, cut that shit already!” The man yelled ferociously to Shion who was sporting a chin strap style beard.

Draken could see that Takemichi flinched from the corner of his eyes.

“That’s Benkei-kun, from the First Gen.” Inui’s stated calmly and he stored it from the back of his mind.

Well, they’re in deep shit. And it doesn’t really help that the added unwanted guests who kept coming into this fray made his hackles rose.

Draken guessed that he had no choice but to fight their way out of this one. A wide grin crossed his features and readied his body into a fighting stance.

“Its been a while since this engine has gotten heated up! Let’s get this party started!”

Takemichi blinked a few times as he stared at Senju who already stood up to his full height while holding his umbrella calmly and stared at Terano with a blank expression on his face.

“Hold on. This little guy…Is Brahman’s boss?” Takemichi mumbled to himself, a slight look of disbelief and confusion marring his youthful features.

Takemichi knew that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and underestimate the people around him. He already learned it the hard way from his past experiences. Nevertheless, it still took him by surprise sometimes on how could a small and young-looking person could pack a certain punch to his knuckles and deliver a roundhouse kick that would send them into a fitful sleep.

It made Takemichi wary yet intrigued by this innocent looking gang leader of the Brahman. He surmised that his deep-seated eyes and ingenuous features had somewhat landed him in being underestimated by the other gangsters who doesn’t know what he’s capable of.

Just like with Shion who was now questioning his presence and capabilities.

But before he could even mull about it for any longer, his attention was fully caught when someone just socked Shion directly into his face that made him fall down like a ragdoll into the ground. The newcomer made him flinched and grimaced in an instant as he looked at them with wide eyes.

“Senju! Brahman is not here today to brawl! Our objective is Hanagaki Takemichi!” The man berated Senju harshly.

“You’re so loud Benkei.” Senju replied dispassionately, unaffected by the man’s infuriating voice directed at him.

“Oh yeah! I’ve completely forgotten it too! They’re here to scout me…But why?” Takemichi tried to rattle every possibility inside his brain for a reason why most of them wanted to recruit him to their own gang suddenly.

“If Takemichi wishes to return to the world of delinquency…He belongs to us, Rokuhara Tandai!” Kakucho announced firmly after he landed a solid punch to Benkei and sent him flying into the corner.

“Kaku-chan!” Takemichi exclaimed in disbelief as his thoughts were cut off by his sudden action and bold announcement.

“Right Takemichi?” Kakucho looked at him square in the eye.

“Uh! Um…” Takemichi replied intelligently. His face was bewildered yet conflicted at the same time.

Does he really need to choose here? Right now? But how could he know if he made the right decision of accepting an offer from one of these gangs? Won’t he regret it in the end?

Takemichi could feel his mind was about to explode from the onslaught of rapid thoughts and information. Quick decision making was never his strong suit and he can probably make a goddamn mistake again from the pressure of this tense situation.

Senju was quiet and was still sporting an unflappable expression on his face despite the bold attack and claims of Kakucho. But his eyes narrowed imperceptibly and his grip tightened on his umbrella. A slight dislike wormed its way to his very being as he watched Kakucho tried to convinced Takemichi to join them by putting him on the spot. He could sensed the waves of conflicting emotions radiating off Takemichi as he tried and failed to give a proper response.

At times like this, they also had to draw out their trump card to neutralize the situation and gain Takemichi’s hand and favor. He wouldn’t let the other gangs swept Takemichi off of his feet and win him over. He’d have to play every trick on this game to outsmart them and win this blond who possessed those electrifying blue eyes which could be their weapon against them. Senju gave a subtle glance to Akashi to which the latter understood and signaled for their top executive to enter the scene.

“This gets the blood pumping, doesn’t it, Waka?” Akashi stated with a lazy grin on his face.

“No, it doesn’t.” A young man suddenly appeared behind Kakucho which made him surprised and fell backwards.

“When did you—?”

“If I cared enough, this guy wouldn’t be standing alive.” Wakasa cut him off with a bored look etched into his face.

‘These monsters come out one after another!’ Takemichi thought incredulously.

“Hey! Don’t just appear glamorously out of nowhere Waka!” Benkei yelled furiously.

“I’m just following Senju’s orders.” Wakasa replied nonchalantly.

A series of murmurs and mutterings then erupted from the other gangsters who were also bystanders from the corners.

Nevertheless, Wakasa tuned them out as his disinterested gaze landed on the infamous Hanagaki Takemichi.

So, this was the one huh?

The notorious morale weapon of the Touman gang in the past.

There was nothing exceptional to this man and he possessed a face that he could probably forget after 2 days of meeting him. Nevertheless, despite his scrawny appearance and the fearful stance in front of them, Takemichi’s eyes caught him the most. It was the shade of a perfect blue that reminds of peaceful skies in the Spring. It’s also expressive and open that he could read every emotion and obvious thought from them. He gleaned that Takemichi was an honest and sincere type of guy.

A refreshing breathe of fresh air into their world that’s full of ragtag delinquents and decrepit liars.

Wakasa casually made his way towards the scrawny blond and crossed his personal space, staring at him intently in the eye.

“Hanagaki Takemichi. We’re here to scout you. Join us, will you?” Wakasa stated in a detached voice as he continued to study the multitude of expressions that flit across his face from his statement alone.

Takemichi stepped backwards, taken aback by Wakasa’s sudden proximity around him and his intense stare. He swallowed thickly as he looked back at him hesitantly. The top executive was sporting a bland yet expectant look on his face as if waiting for his confirmation to join them instead. His long, ponytailed locks that have some streaks of highlights reminded him of Kazutora’s style and his dead yet intense stare reminded him of Sanzu.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He just oozes danger and trouble yet Takemichi can’t tear his eyes away from him as if he was briefly captivated by those intense eyes that was boring right into his soul.

An imperceptible sigh broke him out of his strange trance and he turned his attention to Senju who was looking at them with an indifferent expression on his face.

Senju pursed his lips as his line of sight caught Wakasa invading the personal space of the blond, a flare of annoyance started to creeped into his veins before he inwardly sighs and clamped it down.

Now was not the right time to pay attention to these odd yet irritating sensations that were engulfing his brain.

“Don’t scare him like that Waka. Our main goal is to scout Takemichi.” Senju stated bluntly.

Wakasa stepped away from him. But his gaze lingered on Takemichi for a few seconds before he trained his attention to Senju. “Right. I understand. Sorry if I’m coming out too strong for you Takemichi.”

Takemichi chuckled nervously before he stepped beside Inui, trying to calm down his stuttering heart.

What the hell was happening to him?

“Hanagaki. Those are the living legends. Waka and Benkei. They’re the best duo from the 1st Gen Black Dragon! And then, 1stGen Vice President, “The God of War” Akashi Takeomi. This is…The founding members of 1st Gen Black Dragon.” Inui informed him calmly.

Takemichi absorbed Inui’s words, digesting them inside his head. So, this was the generation led by Mikey’s brother, Shinichiro Sano. And now, these living legends were being led by the mysterious deity in front of them and was coined the “Unmatched Kawaragi Senju.”

With Senju leading these men in the front, it already gave him an idea of how immensely powerful this enigmatic man in front of him. And it made his curiosity peaked around—

“What the hell are you guys hyping each other for?”

Draken’s loud voice cut off his wandering thoughts and looked at him with a befuddled expression on his face.

“Should we continue where we left off?”

Before Takemichi can get a word in, Draken was was already challenging Terano again to a fist fight and cracking his knuckles, a vicious grin was present on his face.

“W-what is going on now?” Takemichi stammered as he could feel his soul leave out of his body.

Were they seriously going to fight now?!

Meanwhile, Wakasa and Senju watched Takemichi from afar, his anxious flailing made them amuse and fascinated.

They both know that getting this blond into their gang would make things more interesting and they’ll make sure to win him over to their team by any means necessary.

(A/N: I don’t own any of these characters from the franchise. Only this insane fic of mine. Apologies in advance if some of them are OOC especially the new ones as I tried to make them in character. Wakasa only appeared in the few panels of the manga but I tried to connect his characterization basing from his few dialogues and behavior to this fic of mine. This was inspired by the events of chapter 213 of the manga. Chapter 213 was funny and wild. The boys are fighting over Takemichi and wants a piece of him. And ofc. The glamorous appearance of the cool yet distant Wakasa has haunted my shipping ass and couldn’t resist adding him to Takemichi’s harem. So, what’s the appropriate ship name for this newborn ship? Wakamichi or Wakatake? Or you have something cooler ship name in mind? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section.)

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Asteria

June Drabbles 2022 Day 1 - Fairytales 

A/N: I have been wanting to challenge myself to write a drabble a day for a whole month for quite some time now, and I finally decided to just go for it. The goal is to fill every prompt on this list by @creativepromptsforwriting with a short one shot (500 - 2k words) by the end of June. Can I do it? I do not know. But let’s find out! Kicking it off with a flashback for Ezra and Clara from the PoNR universe, because no one else comes to mind so quickly when I hear “fairytale”. 

Word Count: 1,816 

Warnings: slight hint at smut but nothing explicit - Ezra is one charming little shit and he knows it. 

Summary: Clara tells Ezra another one of Kamrea’s constellation myths about Kevva and the depth of her love. 

Ezra’s thumb swept slowly over the base of Clara’s wrist as she spoke, his fingers laced through hers and latched over her knuckles. 

“...Hixeo thought that he had finally found a way to punish her for the crime of loving Kamrea more than she loved him. He had his loyal jata bahlu dig up a hundred boulders from the rocky terrain of the moon -” Clara raised the hand that was not joined with Ezra’s to point out divots on the lunar surface - “and then as the sand bear slept, he threw them down, bombarding Kevva’s beloved planet with them, trying to destroy all the beauty that she had created here.” 

The deep purple sky was clearest at the tail end of the Harvest season. On those nights, when Ezra was home with her instead of spending his cycles on Bahkroma’s Green Moon, the two of them would sprawl themselves out in the clearing between the Thulian fields, backs to the ground and their eyes on the stars while Clara used the constellations to teach him the folktales and myths that she grew up hearing. It was a tradition that started the very first season that he spent there on Kamrea, and while Ezra always listened intently, enraptured with the stories about deities in the stars and the way that Clara told them, he also always found a way to connect the magic and the legends back to the two of them and his love for her. 

Wonder what it’s gonna be this time. 

Ezra hummed and Clara turned her head towards him at the sound, the blades of grass where they lay between the fields tickling her scalp as it threaded through her hair. Flicker crickets glowed orange and gold, little orbs of light illuminating the lawn as they played their strings, their shine reflected in Ezra’s eyes as he looked at her. “Well since this is your home planet, Huckleberry, it is abundantly clear that Hixeo was not successful in his jealous endeavor to eradicate all forms of splendor and wonder from it, so I am eager to find out more about his failure.”

Warming at his words, Clara squeezed his hand, eyes slipping shut and a smile spreading over her lips. “Ezra,” she shook her head, letting out a groan that turned into a sigh. I love this man so damn much. He tugged her close enough for her to lift her head from the grass to let it rest on his shoulder. “You really can’t keep your charm in check even for the length of one story, can you?” 

“See that is where you are mistaken, Clara.” Wrapping his right arm around her to hold her in place, he tilted his head down to press his nose against the curve of her forehead. “It isn’t a matter of charm, I am simply stating a fact.” She felt him shift so that he could drop a kiss to her temple. “Besides.” Another peck turned into a grin against her skin. “I have not had to use my charm on you in a long while.” 

Oh, he’s... The smile on her own face grew wider as she pushed herself up onto one elbow to peer down at him. “You’re proud of that, aren’t you?” I know you are. 

Between the stars and the flicker crickets, there was just enough light to make out the small crease that formed between his brows whenever his expression turned serious. “Of course.” He nodded, winding both arms around her then, hands drifting down to the dip in her spine at the small of her back. “It was through the exercise of my charm that I earned the privilege to call you mine.” You sure have. Blinking, he relaxed his face, features softening into adoration. “As a man who deals in valuable gems, I am acutely aware of what treasure looks like, and only a fool would feel anything but pride at knowing that they have secured the greatest riches not just that the Fringe has to offer, but in all of existence itself.” 

“Ezra…” Clara lifted one hand to his cheek, tracing the scar there with the tips of two fingers. How did I get so lucky? Shaking her head, she slid her palm over the side of his face, skating over his patchy beard so that her fingers could tangle in his curls. “I don’t know a damn thing about Aurelac but I still know I struck it rich when I met you.” 

Leaning down she caught his lips in a kiss that lingered lazily before it deepened, her tongue gliding over his to pull a small groan from his chest. One large hand came up from where he held her to cradle the back of her head, but where Clara assumed he had changed his position to change the angle of the kiss and open it even more, he surprised her by ending it. Or rather, pausing it long enough to tease her with a murmured, “Tell me again which one of us is being charming, Huckleberry?” 

Laughing into another kiss - this one quick and light - she smacked his shoulder playfully. “I have never been charming for one single second of my life, Ezra, and you know that.” Clara felt his chuckle move through his body, followed by the heft of his arm as it dropped down to drape over her shoulder blades. “Now do you want to hear the rest of this story, or would you rather tease me for loving you as much as I do?” She arched one eyebrow high and attempted to give him a stern look, but her just-kissed lips refused to purse, pulling up to curve into a smile almost immediately. 

“Oh, I intend to tease you relentlessly tonight, my Clara.” She hardly held back a whimper as he tilted his face to nip at her jaw. Oh, shit. He… She sucked in a breath as his lips left her skin and he let his head drop back to the grass so that he could look at her fully, all signs of the heat he’d just sparked in her gone from his expression, one of genuine curiosity in place. “But first I insist that you finish your tale. Tell me what happened after Hexio pummeled Kamrea with his boulders.” 

Clara sighed, rolling off of Ezra’s chest to slot herself against him the same way she had been at the onset of her story. She kept one arm slung over his stomach, and he topped it with his opposite one, the fingers of that hand drawing lazy circles in the crook of her elbow. Nuzzling her cheek into the space between his shoulder and chin, she finished telling him the myth. 

“Well, Hexio’s plan to ruin Kamrea’s beauty backfired, because as the pieces of moonrock hit the planet to form craters, spores that hadn’t been viable on the moon were released into the fertile soil, and the Crater Oaks started to grow in the deep ravines that the boulders left behind. Before long there were forests and those forests became home to animals, and Kevva only found it more beautiful, only grew to love it more.”  

“I would be willing to wager that this only enraged Hexio further, hmm?” His touch roved absently over her bicep. “What was his response?” 

“It did.” Clara let out a breath as Ezra lightly scratched the ridges of his nails over the top of her shoulder before sliding his hand all the way back down to the bend in her arm. She swallowed as he began his path all over, drawing circles around the bone in her elbow. Thought you weren’t teasing yet, Ezra. Licking her suddenly dry lips, she cleared her throat and continued. “He became even more jealous, even more angry that Kevva would dare to fall more in love with life on this planet than with him, a being of power like herself. So he used his influence on the tides to pull all of the water on Kamrea away from the Crater Oaks and the forests and the things that Kevva cherished. He knew that without water they would wither and die leaving only dry trunks and stumps that she would surely turn away from.” 

“The Lakelands,” he muttered, touch becoming slightly less controlled as it moved up her body again. 

“Mmhmm,” she answered. “All the way on the other side of Kamrea. Hexio was confident then, thinking that he had finally destroyed the thing that had been distracting Kevva from giving him her heart. But he underestimated Kevva’s devotion to Kamrea. He never thought that she would commit herself to carrying water by the bucketload from one side of the planet to the other just to keep the trees and forests alive, to keep the ground fertile and the creatures happy.” Unwinding her arm from beneath his, she pointed up at the constellation that she had indicated before the story began. Using one finger she connected the dots of starlight to show him the figure of a woman carrying water.  “That’s why just before the rains come you can see her in the Western sky with her buckets, bringing water from the Lakelands to the farms and forests.” 

It had always been one of Clara’s favorites, the story depicting a love so deep and pure that there were no limits on what Kevva would do to preserve it. But it wasn’t until she had fallen in love with Ezra that she truly felt the meaning of it. There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for this man. Not a damn thing. 

“Without a doubt, that was one of the best stories that I have ever heard, and as I’ve traveled far and wide through the galaxy I have heard a great many of them.” Clara knew that to be a fact, because he was never short on stories to share. “And for the record, I completely understand why Kevva became so enamored with this planet.” 

“Oh do you?” 

“I do.” He said it firmly. “And I’ve changed my mind about teasing you, Huckleberry.” You have? Before she could choke out the question, he was answering it, turning to speak directly into her ear. “Instead of teasing you tonight, I am taking you to bed, and I am going to show you devotion that would make Kevva herself blush brighter than the Thulian.”

Clara’s whole being heated at his words, and as he rose to his feet and pulled her with him, she was stunned that she was able to get her next words out. “Loft’s closer than the bedroom, Ezra.” Tugging him away from the house and towards the barn, she watched his grin scoop mischievously up into his cheeks, and then the two of them were following the light of the flicker crickets through the gaping barn doors.

. 

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know or you can fill out the form on my masterlist. 

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @shoopidly @fific7 @valkblue @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @cannedsoupsucks @tobealostwanderer @paracosmenthusiast @gracie7209 @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @novemberrain221 @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharrassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfangirl​ 

[anthemxix]

I had an angsty interesting idea and thought you’d maybe like to hear it (since you’re a fan of Wars and Time bonding)

Time and Warriors get separated from the group and are fighting a big ol’ horde of monsters when Time gets hit hard. Like, he-needs-a-fairy-NOW hard. And Wars knows he can’t protect Time while fighting off all these monsters, he’s horribly outnumbered without him, he needs help, he needs more power-

Then he remembers the Fierce Diety mask.

anon, thank you for thinking of me!! i do adore these two bonding! <3 hope you enjoy this little thing i wrote~ uwu

The realization that this ragtag monster horde was capable of implementing a coordinated battle plan carries myriad unsettling implications, but Warriors puts all that aside for later consideration. Right now, he’s rather more preoccupied with his other realization: he and Time are kind of fucked.

Separated from the other heroes by the latest portal (and maybe that was all part of the enemies’ strategy, too?), Time and Warriors are severely outnumbered, two to two dozen. The only reason they haven't lost already is because they've managed to stay back-to-back, fighting together fluidly, watching each other's blind spots. Everything they're doing is purely defensive, purely reactionary, and their stamina is quickly getting whittled away by endless waves of brutal attacks.

And maybe their draining stamina is why there's a slip-up. Warriors hopes that's why there's a slip-up, because he can't bear the idea that his carelessness caused whatever just happened behind him to make Time shout in agony.

Warriors whirls around just as Time crumples to his knees. He steps in front of the Old Man in time to block the heavy stroke of a darknut's broadsword. The blunt impact forces him back half a foot. He grits his teeth and smashes his shield into the darknut's helmet as it winds up for another strike. Armor rattling, the monster stumbles back, briefly stunned.

Swinging around, Warriors throws out his shield against the thrust of a lizalfos' spear, but both weapon and shield collide instead with a translucent blue wall that materializes between them. Sapphire-colored and diamond-shaped, the sudden barrier surprises Warriors for a second before he remembers a child casting the same spell on battlefields some years ago.

"Can't hold it for long," Time says, voice strained, as he presses one hand against his side. Warriors drops down next to him, ignoring the sounds of baffled and angry monsters pounding on the barrier encasing them, and pulls Time's hand away to reveal a terribly deep gash.

Time coughs, and a trail of blood mars his chin. Cursing, Warriors carelessly rips a swatch from his scarf and stuffs it into the wound in the hopes of slowing the bleeding.

"Give it to me," he blurts before he knows what he's saying. His conscious mind takes a moment to catch up to his mouth, but then he feels it. Beneath the clean, blessed magic that Time exudes beats the pulse of something darker, something that wormed into Warriors’ mind without him even noticing.

Suddenly, Warriors knows with certainty how this fight is going to end. He reaches for Time's satchel without awaiting an answer. The Old Man clamps a surprisingly firm hand onto Warriors' wrist.

"No," he says, the tremble in his voice belying the sternness of his tone. "I won't allow it."

The magic, which feels like frenzy barely contained, wraps more securely around Warriors' heart. He wonders how it leaked into him without his consent, how it made him its pawn before he even considered using the mask.

"It's our only choice." Warriors drapes his other hand on top of Time's. The barrier around them flickers, disappearing for half an instant.

Time retrieves the mask from his bag without looking, like he knows exactly where it is. In the open, the mask's alluring magic is more potent. It feels like chaos masquerading as calm, like a threat camouflaged as salvation.

"I could do it," Time weakly offers, even as more blood beads on his lips, as more color drains from his wan face, as resignation clouds his eye.

When Warriors' fingers graze the mask's smooth wood, a shock runs along his spine, prickles the hair on his arms and the back of his neck. The faded red and blue lines that mirror Time's remind him that dabbling with something this powerful has irreversible consequences. In an odd moment of detached lucidity, Warriors recognizes that after he puts on this mask, his life is never going to be the same.

But as he takes the cursed object, he looks down at Time's weeping gash, poorly plugged by blood-drenched scraps of scarf, and feels at peace with his decision.

"I'll be fine, Sprite," he says. "Just promise me you'll be fine, too."

As Time's spell withers and the blue diamond barrier shatters, Warriors puts on the mask.

He's dropped into an abyss that somehow feels both bottomless and claustrophobic. He can't see or hear or touch any more, can't feel his body or what he's doing; he's confined to his mind, condemned to an inky, oceanic emptiness that is filling up with poisonous magic. The deity's overwhelming presence invades more and more of Warriors' mental space, grappling for control.

And it hurts. It's agonizing, the way the subjugating magic bleeds into his every crevice, sunders him at his seams. Peels him apart layer by layer. Breaks him down to his basest pieces. Divides. Consumes.

Rational thought disappears; his darkness is lit only by instinct now, and his instinct tells him to fight. So Warriors resists. As puny and piteous a creature as he is compared to the deity's wrath, he resists, struggling to retain a foothold in his own mind.

And just as abruptly as this hellish internal fight begins, it ends. Full consciousness slams back into Warriors with merciless force. The world seems like a hazy mess of colors and light that he can't decipher. His body feels foreign, and he can't distinguish, spatially, where he is, what he's doing. He thinks he's standing--no, he's falling--

Warriors tumbles back into something solid. Someone solid, who secures their arms around his middle and lowers him to the ground. Dizzy and muddled, he squints up at the concerned face hovering above him. Twilight. The Rancher's mouth is moving, but the words are distant and incomprehensible.

Simply holding his head up is a strain, and Warriors lets himself go limp in Twilight's arms. Through blurry vision, he can see the signs of a massacre: the decimated remains of all those monsters, strewn around the battlefield. He vaguely registers Twilight's fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse, and Twilight's hands running along his limbs, his torso, feeling for injuries.

There's a swirl of red and pink in his periphery. Legend, not bothering to conceal his concern, appears on one side of him. He's speaking, too, and though the words sound a bit clearer than before, Warriors still doesn't understand. Exhausted, he doesn't worry about it, and lets his eyes slip closed.

Twilight and Legend's conversation drones over his head as comforting white noise, and the Rancher's steady breaths begin to lull him to sleep. Then something tugs at his hand, and he pries his eyes open, annoyed, to see Legend trying to take the mask from him.

Warriors blinks down at the cursed item, surprised to see it still clasped in his fist, his unyielding fingers coiled through the eye holes.

"Let go of this damn thing, Pretty Boy," Legend says when he sees Warriors' eyes are open. The Captain can't decide if Legend's voice is actually quiet or if it still sounds weirdly far away. Regardless, he loosens his hold and watches Legend take the mask, grimace at it with a mix of revulsion and anger, and artlessly toss it out of view.

"Captain?"

Turning his heavy head, Warriors finds Wind kneeling at his other side. His expression is all unrefined concern, the watery eyes and exaggerated compassion of a child. Warriors wants to comfort him, but he can hardly move at the moment. He supposes speaking is out of the question, too.

"Are you okay?" the Sailor asks, taking up Warriors' hand in both his own.

Getting no reply, Wind glances between Twilight and Legend. "Why isn't he saying anything? He's okay, isn't he?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Twilight replies. It's a stilted, rote response that holds little conviction. Warriors thinks that should bother him, but he's too tired to care.

"What about those?" Wind says, nodding towards Warriors.

On reflex, Twilight brushes his fingers against the Captain's cheek, looking sadly at whatever is there. "The magic imprinted on him, but he wasn't changed for long. The marks will fade."

Marks? Warriors tunes out the rest of the conversation, trying to deduce what marks they're referring to--until he pictures the red and blue lines tattooed onto--

Time. Warriors twitches, wanting to sit up, wanting to ask after the Old Man. Legend puts a steadying hand on his shoulder, instructs him not to move. Still, he swivels his head around, trying to squint through the still-indistinct mass of shapes and lights that make up the world beyond his little sphere.

Finally, he sees, past Wind, the rest of their troupe. As Warriors is with Twilight, Time is reclined against Sky, with Four and Wild on either side of him. Hyrule is bent over him, hands aglow with golden healing magic that surges into the dangerous wound on Time's side.

Warriors tries to focus on the Old Man's face, and his eyes finally adjust enough that he can see Time, grim and weary, looking straight back at him. He looks sad, Warriors thinks. Sympathetic. Pitying.

It's off-putting, and Warriors looks away. He closes his eyes again and sinks back into Twilight, deciding for now that he'll pretend this is a nightmare, and soon, he'll wake up somewhere else with his soul and mind intact. Yes, he thinks, he’ll let himself pretend for a little while.

[gaylactic-fire]

I feel better, now it’s time to actually go in depth about the boys with tattoos 👀

Speaking as someone with nerve damage it’d be hard to tell if Wild would feel next to nothing while getting tatted or he’d be in tremendous pain but either way I think he’d get at least one small tattoo. Maybe the Sheikah allow him to get their eye symbol tatted on him bc they believe it’s more than earned and consider him one of their own. Because damn it, if I get to project with my nerves then Wild gets one of my own tattoos as well. As a treat.

Hyrule would be really uncomfortable around stick n poke needles at first I feel. Which is ironic considering his fanon status as healer. But once he gets one he’s hooked. I can imagine Rule has at least four or five and they’re all different plants and herbs because he’s a nature hoe like that.

Legend has a few and they’re all vastly different from one another because he acquired them all in different places from different artists. Much like his fashion sense everything clashes but he loves his tats dearly. He also bought a stick n poke kit and let Ravio do his bunny symbol on him just bellow his wrist 🥺

Twilight! Has! A sleeve!!

100% convinced this dude would get a traditional style sleeve with loads of funky shapes and colors. There’s at least one wolf in there. Maybe a few goats. Actually definitely a few goats.

Time doesn’t have any bc he’s like “I got this fierce deity drip I don’t need no tats”. Until Malon convinces him to get a very small hidden one of Epona’s silhouette and he’s like 😭❤️

Warriors is 100% a complete wuss when it comes to needles change my mind. Probably wants a tattoo but doesn’t wanna look like a coward (not that anyone would really care they’re good boys). If Legend dared him however....

Would tattoos be a thing in Sky’s era? Would they even have the ingredients for ink? Probably not but then again I’m not here for accuracy. I don’t think Sky would have any tattoos but he would hold your hand while you get one : )

Four is....indecisive. One color wants a tattoo. One is wholly against the idea. One thinks they’re cool but is unsure. One is afraid of needles. Will they? Won’t they? Stay tuned and find out on next week’s episode.

I wrote a fic in 2019 where I gave Wind a tattoo. That’s right I gave the 13 year old a tattoo. Cancel me. But basically he wanted one and Twi offered to give him one thinking he would chicken out. But because this is a stubborn teen who’s hellbent on proving himself he did not chicken out and he got a sick seagull arm tattoo. And y’know what? It’s still fanon in my heart 🥰

Please add more if y’all want (or completely disregard mine and add your own HCs) this is a fun af topic!!

[claybrownie7566]

That Familiar Red (A reunion)

This is a gift fic for @nitroish after they drew these two reuniting. It was the cutest thing I've ever seen so I decided to write it for them :) Enjoy some bun boy and dream girl

Warriors Hyrule wasn't exactly in the best condition. Yeah the war was technically over, but portals sprung up from all over, and the castle grounds were littered with strange people and even stranger terrains.

"Why is there a pile of snow right here? Isn't this the front gate?" Four asked, climbing up on Twilight's back to avoid the drift.

Warriors and Time sighed in unison.

"Yeah" Wars began, "Cia is gone so we are trying to figure out how to send everyone home and clean up the place."

Time laughed next to him, "it's weird being back here after all this time. How long has it been for you?"

The captain let his hand slide down his face as he thought. The others were on the edge of their seat. Information about Time was like candy for them. Anything their leader gave away was snatched up and stored for later use. Maybe one day everything would fit together and they'd unlock some secrets.

"Well we have been together for about eight months now, so.....well? About nine?"

Time's eye widened, "so I just left?"

Warriors laughed, "yeah sprite."

Alright that was a lot to unpack, but everyone collectively decided to ignore it for now so their minds didn't explode.

The captain led them through the snow and up the stairs to the main door of the castle. They braced themselves to go in, but he banked left at the last minute and led them around the corner.

Legend was about to ask, when a wooden door appeared in front of them.

Warriors smiled sheepishly, "I don't like using the main entrance. Besides, everyone we will want to see will be in through here.

He held the door open for Twilight, who still had Four clinging to his pelt like some sort of bear cub. Legend couldn't help but huff out a chuckle.

"What?" The smithy complained, "I'm too little for stuff like that and Twi doesn't mind does he?"

Twilight smirked, "nope.....you literally weigh nothing."

Legend sighed tiredly and followed them through the door. The air was warm inside, and something fragrant caught his attention. Smells of orange and cinnamon wafted through the air, warming the frigid air in his lungs and filling him up with goodness.

"Come on" Warriors said, "I'll take you around the castle, just stay close."

The hallway they entered into wasn't anything special. It was cozy and well lit, with soft grey rugs lining the path. Decorative paintings covered the walls, and vases of flowers sat atop small tables.

Servants and soldiers bustled about happily, making their way from hallway to hallway. Some carried trays of silverware, some fresh laundered linens, and some pitchers of water for the flowers.

It was a good sort of busy, but it made Legend's head spin. Warriors navigated everything with practiced precision and efficiency, leading them all toward some big doors down the hall.

Two guards saluted to the captain, and turned the handles on the doors. They swung open with no resistance, and led them into a large gathering room.

Soft couches and chairs littered the marble floor, people of all sorts sitting and chatting. There were tables and stools and blankets everywhere. It was a sort of like a massive living room.

Warriors turned to address their company.

"Well friends, this is it. We call it the hall of heroes officially, but it's really just a giant living space where random people we collect end up. If uh...if you see someone you know.....sorry if that's awkward. Looking at you Twi."

The rancher looked extremely caught off guard, "wait what?"

Warriors only patted his back, "I'm going to go and find her Majesty so we can brief her on our situation. Get comfortable. I'll be back soon."

And then he was gone.

Twilight looked like he was going through a crisis, and the others began busying themselves with removing their gear.

Legend took some time to survey the room. There were so many people here, but there was so much space. He wondered how many people had lived here during the war. How many people had already gone home?

A flash of red caught his eye and he nearly fell over.

Hibiscus.

His chest tightened, and he felt his body go still. He rubbed his eyes, pressing his palms against them tightly. When he opened his eyes it was gone. Just a flash, just a glimpse. Nowhere to be found.

He was tired, that was all.

He turned his attention back to his things.

Legend shrugged his sword off his back, and went to work organizing his bags and supplies. Four worked alongside him quietly, every hero eager to get their things situated so they could sleep.

Satisfied with his work, Legend stood and began to stretch his sore limbs. It had been an awfully long day and-

"Link?"

Eight heads turned in the same direction.

When Legend turned, his world flipped.

Red hair fell across her shoulders, held in place by a familiar red flower. Her sunkissed skin and bright eyes were unmistakable, and her smile washed over him like a sunrise.

A sunrise after a night that had lasted too long.

"M-marin.....MARIN!"

He ran.

She ran too.

Years of hoping, praying, begging. Long nights alone lying awake, even longer days stretching thin with grief and heartache were all swept from existence.

They barreled into eachother, her hands locked around his neck, and his around her waist. Feather soft red hair cushioned his face, and caught the tears falling from his eyes. He felt warm droplets land on his shoulders too. They sank to the ground, tightening their hold on eachother as bare knees touched marble.

He was vaguely aware of the others eyes on him, but he didn't care.

She was here.

She was here in his arms and he was in hers.

"M-marin?" He asked shakily, his voice trembling and watery.

She nodded into his tunic, a sob breaking through the gap, "You're here? You're here you're here. I'm here oh Link you're alive. You're alive."

His own sobs came unrestrained as he held her tighter, "I'm alive. I'm alive Marin, I'm alive and I'm here. Are you real? Please be real I can't lose you again tell me you're real."

"I'm real" she whispered, "I'm real and you're here and you're alive and I'm alive and Link! Link!"

He pulled back ever so slightly, letting her go with one hand to cup her cheek. She smiled through tears as he drank her in.

"I thought I lost you" she sobbed, "I thought you had died and that I would never see you again." She pressed their foreheads together, letting her hand twist into a lock of his hair. She chuckled fondly, "your hair is pink."

He brushed his thumb down her jaw and let out a breathless, pathetic little laugh.

"Yeah....yeah it's pink. Laugh at me please, it's been so long. Laugh at me and my stupid hair and let me love you for it."

And she did. She swept his bangs to the side with her soft fingers and laughed. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, and he basked in it. It was a sound he wished he could bottle up and keep with him forever. He wanted to hold it in his hands like he was holding her now.

He felt more tears stream down his face as he watched her. He had never been so happy in his entire life. Nothing mattered. Nothing in all the worlds he had ever been to mattered. There was nothing calling him away this time. Nothing that could take him from her.

"I can't believe it" he said giddily, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"I can't believe it either" she said, "my little rabbit has come back to me."

He snorted and rolled his eyes playfully, "I'll allow that sort of teasing, but only with you, deal?"

"Deal" she said. Her arms stayed around his neck, a hand still playing with his hair. He smiled and she let out that tiny, incredible giggle of hers she knew he'd die for.

He held her in his arms and swore to every deity he could name that he would never let her go again.

She fit her nose next to his.

"I missed you" she said simply.

He squeezed her as tight as he could, placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"I missed you too" he whispered.

She drew him closer and kissed him, ever so softly. Every muscle in his body relaxed, every frayed thread of his soul smoothed, every crack in his heart filled and he was all hers.

He had always been, and always would be.

When they finally broke apart there where whoops and hollers from nearby, and Legend couldn't help but laugh. Warriors had returned and the whole group looked pleased to see their friend so happy.

Everyone I care about is in this room. He thought pleasantly, promising never to forget it as long as he lived.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Lullaby for the Gods

You have two options

"Stories brought on to the wind will bloom into legends in due time; An ancient tale comes whisked into the wind; In time it will grow and sprout once again." The Weaver and Nurturer of Tales, how they came to be and how they have gone.

Pairings -> Venti x God of Time (Ambiguous, Can be Reader)

Word Count -> 1976

Themes -> SCENARIOS, Background, Timeline, It's sad kinda

Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event) Special slot from a special someone : not sure if they want to be tagged

Warnings -> This is my interpretation on the God of Time based on the Sacrificial Weapons Series. And since the prompt only mentions Venti, I won't focus much on their relationship with Decarabian.

Winds of the North are migrating through the crown of the continent once again. The clouds and breezes shift at the peak of day and the grass, the trees, the flowers they all sway. This was the first encounter, as one of the threads of the thousand migrating winds that is Venti, he had always been fascinated by the strong gales that covers a vast land beyond his reach. The city of Mondstadt protected by raging winds far stronger than he.

"Come now, little guy, are you not straying from your stream?" Such beaded eyes of the little sprite detaches from the crown of the North, with its giggles accompanies a sound reminiscent of bells as he nuzzles at the outstretched hand, fair and smooth. A finger consoles his little cheek as the God of Time echoes his snicker. As the sprite settles on their hand, they both spare a minute to watch the God of Storm's dominion. And then they turn to guide Venti back to his current, to his family of winds.

And the little sprite will not witness them until the second cycle of wind passes the cold land of Mondstadt.

So when the time came, several weeks after, Venti once again strays from the winds to venture to his own current. Where are the satin robes that flows with the breeze, that witnesses the rage of another God? The sprite follows tinkling of tin carried by the thousand winds, harmonizing to produce a soft and sleepy melody that lulls those to sleep.

In a distant island he finds himself upon a huge sundial atop a mostly quiet temple. And there stood again the God of Time, with a distant look over the ocean horizon, eyes clouded yet sparkling from the stars that bounced from the surface of the water. Their skin never frails nor wrinkles, hair lustrous and thick, yet their eyes carry a thousand yard stare of shrouded sadness.

"Little wind..." the sprite nuzzles against the cheek of the God, vibrating in worry as he urges them to smile. And they did, even if did not reach their eyes. "You've strayed again, your achon is far from here," cradling the elf to their neck, they turn away from the horizon to the west.

Yet when they urge him to go back, he stubbornly stays.

A stubborn wind playing around the wielder of Time itself. His courage was admirable, and he is lucky that this God is benevolent to his advances.

So they entertain Venti, and the wind begins his stories. Tales of those he'd witnessed when the wind ventures through the continent; and in every word he spills the God of Time is attentive, for when his accounts finally come to their end, Time puts into their memory for keeping. You weave the tales and I treasure them for that is my duty, they spoke with melancholy.

Decarabian is a God that loves his people more than others would know, more than the people would know. And he is also a lonely God. Perhaps it is this distance and disconnection from the world and his people that had made him naive to what he has forced upon his subjects.

The first prayer was heard beyond the wall of storms, only befalling to the ears of the God of Time and the wind spirit who were enjoying a leisurely stroll through the frozen land Andrius had covered in his territory. A man's woe for salvation of the city beyond the gales first reaches the God.

Yet they are unmoving and silent as they watch from afar the Gunnhildr.

But the wind spirit was not that, he was curious and as always he is carried away to his own feat. So without warning he strays from Time and listens to the crying one ever so patiently, and there he receives a glimpse of power that shall manifest one day to greater good.

God of Time offers a smile in the forests where they hid. But only that. For despite being the God of Time, they are solely there to protect its flow. To maintain balance and what should be.

There is nothing they can do to help the people of Mond.

"Little wind." The moniker carried a hard edge of worry unlike the other instances it was used. "The land of Decarabian is... treacherous and suffocating. You are but a tiny wind against his storms." Yet they knew such words will not remove the resolve in the tiny spirit. "Come back to me in one piece, alright? Remember your tales."

Venti softly bumped his hooded head to the God's cheek in reassurance, before he too disappears past the walls of gale front.

And so the God of Time can only do nothing but stand in wait. Like they had always been. Like they had always done. For Decarabian then, for Venti now.

"Bring forth the freedom we all desire."

Many of those that dwell the King of the North's cold wasteland once talked of an ethereal being of satin and silk, of flowing sands, that which overlooked the land of the storms with a somber look. Perhaps it was the waiting and the hoping, but many felt great semblance with the deity. Of the longing look for a distant freedom.

"Little wind," immediately after was a chorus of laughter at the irony brought upon by habits. Venti, now Barbatos with his great wings loom over the God of Time, hands outstretched to feel upon their smooth hands. "I always knew there was more to you."

"My muse," he tastes the new name with his newfound voice, and with his there was a chorus of angelic echoes. "There are festivities upon us, for the city of Mond trapped that was. The people had prepared a grand temple, for just us two Gods it is already ample."

Yet the God of Time smiled only with their lips at the mention of a shrine. You told them about me, they mused as the archon carried them both with the wind where the temple by the east cliff resides.

Give yourself some credit, the new Anemo Archon responds in light banter.

But the God of Time does not.

And so days of reenactments and performances were all that they were driwned upon. For daily, between the peak of the moon and the glimpses of the sun, devoted subjects would appease to the two Gods of Mondstadt through retelling and theatrics of their hard-earned journey to freedom.

Although they cannot glimpse upon the forms of the deities, the light giggles reminiscent of bells that comes from amusement and the flow of draping satin are enough reassurance that their important audience still lingers and listens to their offerings.

This dwelling became their place of rendezvous. And whenever the amphitheater was not crowded by devotees, a lyre plays with a melodic voice, weaving tales of Mondstadt's anew. The God of Time would be there to treasure every story that is weaved, but their subjects remember such moments in a different light: the strum of the strings and the lilt of Barbatos carries with it a hint of serenades.

It seems as tho the faceless God enjoys the Anemo Archon's tales the most.

Whenever it is the Gunnhildr's clan that performs their tale of courage in honor of defending Mondstadt, life and freedom, Barbatos' happiness was the most extraordinaire. The winds breeze by to caress everyone with comfort.

The Imunlaukr receives praise from the God of Time when they are the one on stage. Of courage and bravery, with their desire to not only protect the city of Mond but to appease the Gods, time slows when they follow their script. As if honored by time to stay and linger for the amusement.

And finally, the Lawrence clan holds with them a different reaction, for when their time has come it is quiet. Other clans would comment that perhaps the Gods do not favor their performance but they continued regardless, and they carry with them the essence of wisdom and strength, from the frozen lands to the new city. And only after they perform are they graced by the softest winds and the kisses of youngness that they carry with them even after.

This clan's performance sings with expertly woven symphonies and journeys of hardships through the cold, not harsh but comforting, soft melodies and that of longing. During their performance unbeknownst to their eyes is when the wind embraces the passage of time, where it is in its calmest moments, cradled between his arms and resting against his chest.

The bloodline of the Lawrence always ends the rituals for the morning, for the God of Time had finally found themself free from the shackles of the storms, peacefully resting in the arms of freedom. And it is in these moments that the people appreciate the lessened harshness of time.

Time is harsh and unrelenting, and should always be moving.

The God of Time protects time, nurtures time, and urges time. No force or law shall break the equilibrium of time nor tip its balance. And this unbreakable rule applies to them.

For this reason they ask one day, to the Anemo Archon, why they praise Time. What do they expect from time. And there Barbatos finally sees the burden of a thousand years, of the constraints of that whom is held down by prayers, held down by incapability.

Time only knows harshness. And they cried to the winds without restraints, for not once will they be able to gift the people that so desperately long for their blessings.

And for once, the wind was silent.

For once, the winds... understands the insanity of being one with time. A force made to be unmoved and unrelenting, to be shackled to a single tale when you are burdened with the pleas of many others.

Time is harsh, because they are meant to be.

So when the Anemo Archon finally desired rest and detachment to procure the essence of freedom, they too felt the chance to finally breathe. "Can you set up my awakening five hundred years from now?" Venti laid his head upon the lap of Time, teal eyes and smile somber yet gentle and reassuring. "Preferably at the peak of Ludi Harpastum, if you would allow." An hour glass manifests next to him, allowing his wish.

"When you wake, I will be here," they mumbled as the archon lets his eyelids rest, feeling a soft kiss to his forehead that lulls him to sleep.

"Tell me the tales like a balladeer." And he slumbers away the years.

"When I came to be, the Lawrence ruled over Mondstadt, governing with the most disgusting aristocracy. It was only right that they lost the blessings of thy winds, after all it is only for those who fought to be free," Venti sighed with pure disappointment, "Honestly."

"What happened to your Time friend, then? Did they tell you what happened during your sleep?"

The windborne bard looks at Paimon with a wide yet steeled gaze so daunting it made her squeak and hide behind the traveler. Who silently watches as Venti once again sighed and resigned to strumming his lyre.

"They're gone." No rhyme, no smiles, no cryptics.

Barbatos sought out the help of the winds of Teyvat to tell tale on the dwellings of the God of Time yet came out empty handed. And his only salvation, the oldest of the Seven, can only shake his head as he too does not know of the whereabouts of the God.

The fragments of time lingers in cursed windswept ballads and stories. And as the years go by, all worshipers and records had forgotten about the deity.

They only sing praise to the wind shrine now.

Now who shall nurture the stories brought by the winds?

I seem to have a knack for hurting Venti.

@creation-magician @boxofteenageideas @zelos-simp @ellitx @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

[slasherwife]

🐻Oh, I stopped to think, how the Slashers would react to their S / O being a witch who reincarnated (doesn’t remember the past life, except how she died.), She does rituals (using some potions, animal bones and blood itself). to raise and control plants and a power related to his death (possibly fire) and have nightmares about his death that usually have phantom pain and vision (in the midst of flames and smoke for example.) kisses from Brazil 🐻

Slashers react to a witch s/o

How do the slashers react with you doing tarot, moon rituals, playing with energies, making potions and doing spells?

🌹🌛🌕🌜🌹how do they react to you controlling the elements and getting forewarning of his death?

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is lowkey intrigued?

Doesn’t even know what this stuff is??

He’s pretty much clueless, but that doesn’t mean you can’t teach him

If you tell him you’re a witch I have a feeling he’ll be taken aback

“B-but the Bible says—“

“No no, the Bible was originally Aramaic, Tommy— and ‘witch’ in Aramaic meant poisoner, my love. I never poison anyone.” 💖💕💖💕

That should do it 😊

Anyway he will still be bewildered a lil bit, just peepin around the corner watching you doing a tarot reading like Ow0 wot

Will catch animals for you to use for rituals

Do you need human bones too? Cuz he’s got you covered 😊💕

But hearing of your past life death? Seeing you play with fire and plant energies? How the universe practically bows to you? He sees you completely different.

He was standing on the back porch, watching you walk towards him as the grass waved to you and the trees bent in your favor, and he never wanted to be apart from you 🌹😊

You are a starlit goddess, sent to him by mistake— and he thinks you belong to the stars above or in the clouds~~ anywhere but his dark, sad home 😓💖

If you have nightmares about his death, he will go under your wing —begrudgingly— under your constant protection

He doesn’t believe too much of your visions, but he hates seeing you upset and his dark goddess doesn’t deserve paranoia 🥀😓

Jason Vorhees

Whatever Jason thinks, he at least acknowledges at his zombie phase that he isn’t exactly considered natural either.

Tbh you guys would be a total power couple 🤗🥺💖

He would be probably more understanding of your occupation than Tommy, and would embrace you fully 😊

Like “I knew my y/n was special. I knew it!” 😊💕

He doesn’t like that you use animal bones though. “Why the poor animals y/n?? Use human bones instead— here.”

He thinks you have superpowers hah

He loves when you raise the plants to be alive again— it’s like you keep it spring all year and he loves it 🥺💖💕💖🌷

Will be happy that you have them so you can protect yourself if need be 😊

Once you tell him about your past life death and how you can manipulate elements and that you’re getting forewarnings dreams of his death... he won’t be too worried.

First off, any thought of you dying in general is caused him literal physical pain. So he didn’t like you talking about that 🥺💕

You controlling the elements, Fire? He will follow you anywhere hon’. 7’1 immortal zombie legend murderer and powerful sorcerer/ess/witch? Biggest power couple 💕🙌🙌

And then lastly, the only thing Jason will worry about from your dreams is how you will manage with out him. That’s literally it 😂🥺💕💖

He knows he will come back eventually, you can’t kill Jason forever— he physically can’t stay dead lol

He will sheepishly miss all the crazy sex you guys have been having, but you stop your worrying! Jason’s like “my poor bab don’t be so scared— I’ll always come back!” 💕💕💖💕

Michael Myers

Will 1000% pretend your powers don’t interest him.

But just know that he’s peeking around the corner when you absent mindedly play with the candle’s flame while mixing a clarity potion, literally on his toes 😂💕

He loves to be around you when you’re doing candle work, making a potion, practicing controlling the elements— because you exert this powerful and foreign energy aura that’s comforting to him 😊💖💕🥺

Another slasher that will go on a midnight trip of catching animals for you because “ANYTHING FOR YOU, MY GODDESS— 😫💖💕💖💕”

But you wouldn’t even ask for it, he would see you making spell charms or bags with animal bones in it—

And then next thing you know he drops a sack of birds and a goat next to you and walks away???🤭

Do I know where he got the goat?? No I fucking do not xD but it kinda stank so you had to drag it out the back door and get to work 😣

And then obviously he’ll give you human bones as well lel 💕

He likes hearing of your past life death, he thinks it’s cool lol 😊💖

Getting forewarnings of Michael’s death? K.

He wouldn’t be bothered really, but he obviously doesn’t want to die— he’s too stubborn for that 💕💖

This is the only time he will ever listen to you xD barely

Basically like “too bad—I’m going out tonight. But I’ll ‘be careful’ or whatever the fuck you said.”

Another huge power couple btw 🙌💖💕

Bubba Sawyer

He thinks you’re so cool 🥺

He’ll think your tarot readings are a game and he’ll pick up random ones and look at them

(He likes the pictures) 😖💖

He’ll be so curious, like snooping around when you’re doing a ritual, snuggling up against you when you’re saying an incantation—

He’s like a cat💖💕

Oh you like animal bones? What a surprise! His house is literally full of them. 😶🌷

Ya you have an endless supply of animal bones— you won’t ever run out 😂💖💕

You died in your past life? WHAT? Why? *crying*

He will snuggle you all night when you tell him that 🥺

Also thinks you’re a goddess that was sent to him and can NOT wrap his head around the fact that you two met by chance 🥺💖

Cherishes you every single day and will probably be super clingy because you’re just his strong woman who deserves everything for the queen she is— *INHALE* yeah. 😖😖💕💕💖💖

Wait. What? You dreamt of me dying? What abt you will you be okay my little blueberry muffin??

He won’t careeee but at the same time he wants to stay with youuuuu😖💖💕

Just so he can stay alive to be with you, he’ll do everything you say to stay safe and will follow every protocol much to Chop Tops annoyment. 🤷‍♀️😊💕

“No, sorry—Y/n says I can’t do that.”

I love you two together, it gives me the feels 🥺💕💖

Bo Sinclair

Ooooh niceeee

Lowkey interested but probably won’t show it 😆

Like u do u— don’t know don’t care as long as you keep making me pbjs

Prepare for bewildererd looks when he walks in on your using blood/bones for a particular ritual 😳

Like you’ll just be sitting on your bed with your eyes closed, holding a black candle trying to banish negative energy and he’ll walk in—

“Want me to leave...?”

“Shhhhhhh....”

He’ll probably come home one day with an animal skull or something like, “babe I found this owl beak... you want it?” 😂💖💕

He’ll probably tell Lester to catch something while he’s out and about, and then take it and tell you that he got it for you all by himself😂💕

Lowkey scared of you sometimes

He’s not scared of blood, but like y are u using it..??

Tried not to piss you off too much so you hex him or something xD 💖💕

You: *manipulating fire and wind out back*

Bo, walking in on it: bitch what the fu—

If you tell him you’re getting visions of his death, he’ll probably be super skeptical and give you it a smartass remark— probably ask if you’ve been smoking the mugwort too 😳😶

But if you persist on it— he’ll get frustrated but will listen to you because he doesn’t like seeing u upset 🥺🌷

Brahmsie

Bitch wtf u doin?

So confused— explain now

This little shit will go through all of your stuff and take what he thinks is cool and will probably piss off your deities (if u have deities) 😂

You’ll have to make him apologize and have him give it back~~which I wish you the best of luck w 😂💖💕

You’ll just be minding your own business when Brahmsie is looking at your things—

The he legit looks at you dead in the eyes and takes your dragon figurine and disappears into the walls, much to your panic 😓😶😶

But since you can do all this stuff, now 3x more scared of you even tho you’re a small bean in comparison to him— 😳💕🌷

You threatened to hex him if he didn’t start actin right and he started being nice real quick 😂🙌💕💕

Where did u get that blood? 😶😳

Using animal bones? Use the dead rats y/n! Duh!

Bonus for him if he manages to sack the grocery boy and take his bones too 😶💘

“ANYTHING FOR YOU MY QUEEN!” 🙌😭💖💖

If he finds you controlling the elements and sees u controlling fire.... he leaves immediately dont you know he’s terrified of fire??

Yeah uh he demands in a shaky voice that you stop doing that or else ☹️😶he doesn’t like fire at all

But that’s okay cuz you’re still the fuckin coolest person hes ever been w! 😆💘

Wait wut...? You’re saying I’m gonna die? UWU SAVE ME Y/N I DONT WANNA DIEEE

He will literally get so scared when you tell him you’re getting forewarnings of his death, and will go under your wing definitely the most willingly 😅💓💓

Whatever, more cuddles for him! And some other things 😏

I hope u liked ittt! Sorry I’ve not the time to post ANYTHING lately— it took me 5 days to finish this one because of how busy w school I am— but I hope you like it!! 💖💖