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queers-gambit · 9 months

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The Battle Above the God’s Eye

part one: Sands of Time

prompt: decades after the Stepstones, it's his turn to be rescued.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

warnings: reader isn't explicitly a Targaryen but we had to make this work and i'm burnt the fuck out. so fuck it, dragon rider reader. cursing, books spoilers, violence, imagination required, maybe Red Priestess reader, mention of more Little Birds (let author live), toxic family (duh), heavily encouraged imagination, depictions of death, angst, some hurt and comfort i think ? missing warnings 'cause wonky brain goin' wonky.

"There's rumor, Mistress, of a dragon the color of night," the hooded figure informed. "It nests in the Ruins of Ancient Valyria, seen by farmers and countryfolk; they say his wings beat like thunder. It's a colossal shadow they fear to engage, but after hearing your ransom, they reported it."

You hummed as you took a sip of scalding tea, finding comfort in the heat, musing, "I've been to the Ruins myself on two seperate excursions, I promise you, friend, there is no dragon that nests there."

"It's come from the East, a new beast in the sky."

"I require proof if I am to pay the ransom."

The man with a hood over his head reached for his rucksack and rummaged, a moment later, placing two items on the polished mahogany table between you both. One was unmistakably a dragon's tooth, and when you examined it, there was still clotted blood on the root - assuring it was a fresh pull. The second was a large black scale that weighed at least a dagger's worth.

You smirked, "This is promising. Where in the Ruins has it been seen? Who procured these artifacts?"

You discussed specifics with the man for an hour, offering him a hefty finder's fee after getting the name of the village the man had gathered his own information from. It was a messy journey from there; leaving the home you had made in the decades since the Stepstones to head for what was probably another dead end in Ancient Valyria. You were something akin to a magistrate, the people saw you as a figurehead, a leader; their person of authority who they were all too happy to follow.

Your village flourished, growing in size, number, popularity, and strength by the passing day. The people seemed happy, wealth flowing from exports and trade, and apparently, a few cartographers have begun the process of updating a few maps to add your village's name to history.

Much had changed in your time away from your Rogue Dragon Prince, but you knew that was all coming to an end soon. Your Lord of Light had shown you much in your flames, one of which was a repeating image of you, mounted atop a dragon all your own, soaring over the Narrow Sea with distinct purpose. You weren't a Targaryen, but your religious devotion seemingly gave you the ability to walk amongst beasts and their flames.

Exploring Ancient Valyria took over a year on foot.

You had plenty of encounters with the Stone Men, but all met their merciful demise - those left after that steered clear of you and your Valyrian Steel sword. Around the ruins of the ancient volcano that hadn't erupted since The Doom, you found a graveyard of goat, sheep, and cattle bones. There were bigger skeletons of aquatic creatures, something you found incredibly fascinating - what fully grown dragon went deep diving?

Soon, you found scat. For those who don't spend time in the wilderness or who are simply unfamiliar with the term, "scat" refers to waste produced by wild animals. Yeah, you're reading correctly, after you found the plethora of skeletons, you found dragon shit.

So, you knew you were closer than before. But the fucker still alluded you to the point you felt insane circling the Ruins.

You located about three different potential caverns, investigating them all with caution, but finding them all empty. Feeling exhausted from the months of searching, you claimed one of the caves as your own; hunting for a meal after gathering adequate fire wood. You listened to the untamed wilds of Valyria as you ate whatever you roasted, trying to distinguish familiar sounds of an approaching dragon.

Or perhaps even a distant one!

You'd take any sign!

It'd been weeks since you found the dragon droppings, no other signs appearing. You would search new areas for days, then return to your cave for rest; feeling disconnected from reality the longer you lingered in the ruined empire. You wondering what your village was doing, you were curious if the young woman, Ferona, had a baby boy or girl, if they had erected the new buildings you left blueprints for in an effort to create opportunist housing and houses of worship - as your people had requested.

How did the krill and shrimp season fair? What weddings happened this past spring? How was the irrigation system holding up?

Weeks drug by slowly. Weeks turned to longer months. Two years, you spent in that Gods forsaken ruin of a city - but couldn't find it in you to abandon your search.

Your Lord of Light had yet to send word, yet set your heart ablaze every time you "decided" to go home. You stared into the flames every night, desperate for any indication you were on the right path, but nothing was seen - nothing was said - nothing was shown to you. Until one night, during a torrential downpour and thunderous storm, you were shivering, drenched to your core, fighting the wind to let you keep your flames alive.

And there, in the dying, flickering warmth, you saw it. With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared into the flames harder; unsure how long you remained in the tranquil state before a particularly strong gust of wind nearly pushed you face-first into the embers. You gasped, looking around as the smoke nearly choked you as it filled the cave; stumbling out into the rain as you coughed and patted your chest. Stumbling slightly from malnourishment and delirium, you leaned on the outer shell of your "home", panting with relief before there came a screech so fearsome, you were then cowering into the wall with fear.

You dropped to your knees, huddled into the rock formation; the ground trembling as something enormous touched down. You gasped when through the haze of sideways rain, two nostrils flared and heaved thick plumes of smoke; reddened from the ignited flames deep within an invisible chest. You flattened against the wall, four taloned paws striking the ground and causing it to crack, quake, and tremble. With the fleeting clouds, you used the moon's light to distinguish the beast that loomed closer to you; over you; and then, in your face.

A long, blackened snout nearly pressed into your chest; fabric of your tunic caught in the razor sharp teeth. You had faced death, you had faced beasts, you had faced hacking axes and swinging swords. You had faced the wrath of the Queen Alysanne's court, the rumors of the common folk, and judgment from both man and God. But nothing was like this moment: a wild dragon staring you down, sniffing your chest and stomach, debating if it should just open it's mouth and eat you whole yet or not.

Thankfully, it chose an alternative route.

You're not fully sure how it happened, but you dedicated two years to finding this terrible beasty, and yet, it only took about 6 weeks to bond with the (obviously) young thing. Time with your Dragon Prince proved most useful, creating a bond so secure, you were beginning to wonder if someone deep in your bloodline had mated with a Targaryen. It was natural, the way you both became accustomed to one another; living together on a carbon-dated land long doomed.

The lessons from Daemon came flying back to you. You practiced your High Valyrian, laughing when you obviously got a word or two wrong because the dragon would snort at you. In the light, she was still the color of the night, but her scales were dusted the same gold as her eyes. She was impressive, she was huge in size but nowhere near Vhagar. In fact, you'd wager she had outgrew Caraxes - the only dragon you had true experience with.

Speaking of Caraxes, you were on the shores of Old Valyria, debating how you were going to convince your new companion to join you back "home" in the village, when suddenly, your beast gave a defensive growl.

Looking to the skyline, you spotted the distant dragon and frowned. This dragon wasn't the color of flames like Caraxes was, no, instead, it was a murky blob in the sky with two wings. You offered calming words to your dragon in her native language, not sensing danger, but your beast was unhappy leaving you in the open. Her tail curled around you to corral you back into her body as the muddy brown dragon landed with a thunderous shake a respectable distance away.

Your name was begged by the rider descending from who you recognized as a wild dragon by the name of Sheepstealer.

"Nettles? That you, love?" You asked in skepticism, managing out of your dragon's grasp. "What're you doing here? You all right?"

"I needed to find you," she panted. "I-I need you help - it's all - it's all gone wrong! Please!"

"What's wrong? The fuck's happened?"

"Do you know nothing, Auntie!? Do you know nothing of the war!?"

Your eyes rolled, "Watch that tone with me, girl. The Dance of Dragons is of no concern of mine, it had barely started when I came here."

"Well - it's your concern now," she insisted. "You took me under your wing - you helped raise me in a village you built from the ground, despite not ever needing to - "

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine," you cut her off sharply. "She was kind to me when I came back to Essos, let me stay with her and your father. When I set out on my own, she was always a friendly face, and when my settlement was established..."

"She came to you for help after getting pregnant with me," Nettles nodded. "You've told me this before."

"Then you should know better by now that I owed your mother more than my life, so, raising you was the least I could've done. A life for a life."

"And as such, you let me go into the world with stories filling my head of a handsome Dragon Prince that saved you from the Crabfeeder!" You scoffed at her words, ready to argue, but she rushed, "He's in trouble, Auntie."

You paused, finding no lie in the girl's eye. Slowly, you asked, "Come again?"

"I found him, Mistress," she nodded. "After I got back to Westeros, I found your Prince Daemon - the ones from the stories! He's... He's brutish and harsh, they call him Rogue, but he was kind to me when I told him I knew you. When he heard your name, Lady, he just - he insisted on keeping me close. He protected me, even against his wife - Princess Rhaenyra."

Your head cocked, "Hmm... He usually did have a taste for younger flesh. I'm not surprised he took to you - "

"No, no, no, Mistress, not like that," she insisted desperately. "He was kind, educational - similar to a mentor."

"I see."

"He needs your help."

"Prince Daemon does not need rescuing, he is no damsel."

"He searches for Prince Aemond," she informed, making you lift your chin slightly. Though lost in the wild of Valyria the past two years, you were still well versed in the affairs of King's Landing; staying updated, curtesy of your Lord, the Lord of Light: R'hllor. In your village, you were known to pay for any accurate information - eventually hiring your own spies to relay trustworthy information from around surrounding cities and villages. Nettles was one of your Little Birds.

You sighed, "And? What of it - Aemond killed Lucerys, did he not? Since he married his niece, her children are now his step-children, right? Daemon is within his rights to want some form of vengeance - it's war, Nettie, it's never fair to anybody.

"He will not survive this, you don't understand! It's horrible, Mistress, please, he-he-he's deranged. Mad with grief, lost to his wife's useless fucking war. It'll be the death of him, Auntie, please!" She paused, seeing you just stare back at her; so she begged again, "Please!"

You nodded, "What do you want me to do, Nettie? Hmm?"

"You've told me those stories! I remember them well! You always said he came back for you, saved you from The Crabfeeder," she reminded, making you stiffen. "Does he not deserve the same? Or at least a chance? Rhaenyra will not help, she'll kill him herself I fear, but you can - you can help!"

You nodded, "I will consult the flames - "

"I am telling you - "

"I have heard you, girl!" You snapped, glaring at your Little Bird. "But there are greater forces at work than what you know, I cannot just so willfully trust the word of a child before flying off across the Narrow Sea. Allow me my time with my Lord, I will have an answer for you." Turning from her, you gathered whatever materials you could; setting it up in a small teepee before stepping back.

In High Valyrian, you gave your command. From over your shoulder, your beasty opened her mouth and shot a single flame at the structure.

On your knees, you muttered repeatedly; chanting, summoning your Lord of Light to come to you now in a great hour of need. And He did. Through the flames, you saw what R'hllor wanted to show you: the two Princes engaged in a brutally epic fight that would claim them both in the end...

Unless you left right that moment, as your Lord commanded.

"Make yourself safe, Nettles, go back home," you told her in a rush, catching the pouch of Gold Dragons she tossed you when you sprung into action - and for the first time, mounted your dragon. Like your minds were connected, the Great Shadow took to the sky - leaving Nettles and Sheepstealer behind, and you'd never see either again.

You remained high in the sky, being a blob to the naked eye should any dare to stare at the sun.

You only paused to let the Great Shadow dive into the Narrow Sea for a meal; surfacing with creatures in her jaws as you swam an exhausting broad stroke. Was it terrifying to swim in the open water? Absolutely, but your dragon seemingly kept any threats at bay. When she was satisfied with her meal, the Great Shadow scooped you onto her back and relaunched into the air again to continue your flight for Westeros. You both dried in the air.

The trip was draining.

It was grueling on you both.

Yet when you saw the distant shore, you couldn't help the spike of relief in your heart and veins.

Once in Westeros, you were forced to ground yourselves in the open area of the Stormlands because you needed to know where to go since Nettles hadn't been sure where to send you specifically. Using the usual thunderstorm as cover, you had to separate from the Great Shadow; leaving her in the dark as you ventured to the closest village.

With the pouch of Gold Dragons Nettles gave you, you paid for information that you needed. You were told all the nitty gritty details about the Dance of the Dragons that you've missed, understanding what (Nettles and) the Lord of Light had been trying to tell you for years: the Black Queen would be Prince Daemon's death.

The time had come for you to return his favor from the Stepstones. If this worked the way you wanted it to, you wouldn't be his first, second, nor third wife, but his fourth and final. You knew what you had to do.

"What do you know of their whereabouts?" You asked the innkeeper who wiped down the bar you leaned on.

"The Princes?" She asked, tisking right after. "The One Eyed Prince has been burning the Riverlands for almost two weeks now. The Rogue Prince was in Maidenpool but he's called his nephew to meet him at, uh, oh... Oh, bullocks, what's that haunted castle? The one that was torched?"

"Harrenhal?"

She snapped her fingers at you, "That's the one!"

"Fuckin' Hell," you muttered, wiping your eyes. "What's your thinking, love? 'Bout this war?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stupidest thing I've endured so far. How silly, the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it, or so says our liege lord. So we must all pay their price in Fire and Blood."

You nodded slowly, "Who do you think holds the better claim t'the Throne?"

"Depends on your views," she muttered, "but in truth, it doesn't matter to me - so long as this all comes to an end. But between us?" She leaned in, glancing around before muttering, "The Bitch Queen would burn us all. Can't say if King Aegon would be much better, but at least we'd know what we were dealing with."

"And if he was another Maegor?"

"Can't be worse than the Black Queen. Hear they call her Maegor with Tits."

You smirked, chuckling lightly, "Thank you, ma'am, for your words." You offered her a few Gold Dragons, repeating, "Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal," she nodded, accepting the payment. "I do not know if the One Eyed Prince will answer the Rogue Prince's challenge, but that is where he lures Prince Aemond - Harrenhal. Now, how's about a nice bowl of stew? You look drenched, love, and a bit skinny - you been eatin'?"

"Your kindness is refreshing in this shit-for-a-kingdom."

You winked at her and tapped the bar in parting before turning for the door, and into the rain you ventured once more. You didn't notice the cold, your Lord kept you warm and moving; finding the Great Shadow, mounting, and shooting off into the unknown sky again.

It wasn't easy directing a dragon without a saddle nor any stabilizing reins, yet your beast was something of a decently smooth fly. You minimally directed her as you went, but in truth, her instincts directed you both more than anything. When the storm broke, you were soon flying over charred scores of land; homes smoldering and burning, the wind spreading the embers and never letting the fire fully die out.

"The fuck..." You muttered, sitting up straight as you flew through the carnage. "Seven Hells, he burnt it all, didn't he?" You whispered, needing to hold onto the spinal ridges of your dragon to keep balanced. "Gods be good," you gaped at the damage beneath you.

The sun moved into position, getting ready to set when you heard the horrible screams of feuding dragons. You couldn't see Harrenhal yet, but you heard the fight, and then, as the sun began to set, there came flashes of bright firelight that lit the sky to a new level.

It was nearly the shade of daylight with the way the flames danced against the setting sun. You were desperate to get closer, and after directing the Great Shadow over a set of charred rolling hills, you finally had Harrenhal in sight. "Go! Go, please! That's them - we need t'get there!" You begged through a small sob of panic, and if possible, your dragon flew all the faster.

You were so close, yet felt so far.

The air trembled when the pair of dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, collided in the sky once more. They grappled and snarled and shrieked and blew flames and gnashed their teeth and slashed their talons. You paid no mind to the pregnant woman standing on the shoreline of the lake they fought over, and instead, focused on your task; feeling as if you were moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.

The Great Shadow dove low to the lake's surface as Caraxes and Vhagar came barreling to the ground. It all happened too fast. As the two dragons fell, you saw one man - in black armor - leap from his crimson beast with his Valyrian sword winking in the dying light. Just as his arm extended to pierce Dark Sister into Aemond's blind eye, the dragons were tussling enough to turn over and forced Daemon off their hide.

You gasped as you reacted - no fucking thought to your actions.

As the Great Shadow glided over the surface of the Gods Eye lake, you were leaping off her back to launch into the air; tackling the Rogue Prince hard enough to disrupt his impact on the water's surface. You hit the water all the same, but instead of it being like hitting fresh pavement, it was a softer landing due to the Great Shadow's expert and quick maneuvering.

Two dragons hit the water, three human bodies; sending a wave of water higher than the towers of Harrenhal's fortress. It was a shock to land in something so wet and cold, but your adrenaline was stronger than any feeling of freezing water. Your arms kept an iron-clad lock around Daemon's unconscious waist, surfacing as the lake rippled and churned from impact; turning a seeping red from the open wounds on the dragon sinking into the depths.

Prince Aemond never surfaced, and years from now, he'd be found still chained to Vhagar's saddle with Dark Sister still stabbed through his skull. His Red Witch standing on shore couldn't save him, it appearing that your Lord preferred the Rogue Prince to the One Eyed.

Keeping Daemon afloat was difficult, but to your shock, you were being gently propelled forward to the shore by a fatally injured Caraxes. You encouraged him best you could, trying not to choke on the water splashing around your frantic forms. When you were able, you started heaving and dragging Daemon up the lake's embankment; the crimson dragon crawling out of the lake behind you, slowly, heading towards Harrenhal. You wanted to offer the loyal beast aid or comfort, but you were much too preoccupied with his master that was dead weight in the water's surf.

You trembled as you swiftly hoisted his dragon winged helmet off to leave bobbing in the surf; unhooked his armor, shucking it off him and compressing his chest rapidly - just like a fisherman taught you to do.

"C'mon," you grunted. "C'mon, Daemon, breathe - fucking breathe, damnit! Please, come back to me - don't do this. I just found you again, c'mon, my Prince, breathe. Breathe, Daemon, don't give up - not now, not on us! Don't give up on us, c'mon, my Prince, breathe, w-we finally have our time." Sobs wracked your form. "Breathe, Daemon, please! Please! I'm back - I finally found you, please, my love, breathe!"

You shoved harder into his breast bone with increased ferocity until water came suddenly spewing from his lungs. You heard the Great Shadow land in the near distance, turning Daemon on his side to help him breathe better; choking the water out. You spoke in relief, "There, there you go, c'mon, love, breathe! Thank fucking Gods, you're all right, you're okay, get it out - you're okay, just breathe, my love."

Daemon choked your name in pure disbelief, holding one of your wrists in a vice grip that only briefly concerned you. He panted and relaxed into the embankment, loosening his grip as he turned over to look up at you in shock and wonder. "How is this possible?" He wheezed.

"It's a bit of a long story," you teased softly, caressing his cheek. "Bit of a boring tale, 'M afraid."

"How? How is - how can this be?"

"You needed me," you explained, "thought I'd return the favor since you saved me all those years ago, huh? You got me out of the sea, I got you out of the lake - we're even, yeah?"

He still panted, only staring at you as if he couldn't believe himself. "You've not aged a day," he whispered.

You smiled, petting his cheekbone with your thumb daintly. "You need rest, reprieve, aid," you whispered.

"No, no," he gulped, "not when I just got you back. T-Tell me 's done. Tell me we're done being apart."

"You have a wife still, Daemon. She won't let you go, she wouldn't let us be together."

"Tell me what your flames say."

"Now you trust my flames?"

"When they bring you back to me, yes - oh, fuck yes, I'll believe whatever those fucking flames say. Please, love, for us - consult your flames, tell me what they've said."

You frowned, petting a soaking wet lock of hair from his forehead. Quietly, you whispered, "My Lord showed me what was to pass if I did not come for you... This war, this Dance of Dragons, would claim your life, Daemon. Your wife, your niece... She'll be the end of you, my Prince. You will not survive if you go back to her. Neither of you will survive this... My Lord has shown me that Rhaenyra will meet her end in flames, but following her will cost you your life in water," you glanced at the lake. "Not a death befitting of a Targaryen Prince."

"And now?"

"Now, she will fight her own battles for the first time," you whispered, "and I will return home, and you will make a choice."

He smirked, "We've gone lifetimes apart, like you said before."

"We have."

"I would not go another day," he coughed, wincing in pain. "I do not think I can fight anymore anyways, love. Please... Please."

Daemon never begged. You swallowed harshly, asking him, "No? No more fighting?"

"No," he agreed. "'M so tired, my sweet. I-I can't do this forever," he half-slurred, making you perk up slightly in attention. "Retirement sounds all too appealing now. Rumor will spread that neither Aemond or I lived, it'll be the perfect escape."

You nodded in agreement, flinching when a new voice screeched, "YOU BITCH!"

The pregnant woman you saw on shore stormed towards you, making you chuckle dryly as you had already foreseen this Alys Rivers - pregnant concubine of the One Eyed Prince Aemond and fellow Follower of R'hllor. Alys was unique in the sense that her training was decent enough to ensnare Aemond (it seemed), but not so decent that the Lord yet favored her.

She wasn't more than ten feet from you when the Great Shadow opened her mouth and showered the Red Witch in holy flames; an end she surely did not see coming - not that R'hllor would've showed her. This all caught Daemon's attention, who flinched slightly when he had to turn and look; not expecting the flames nor the beast.

Then his eyes drifted over the land, breathing hitching, and he sat up with a painful groan. "Daemon," you worried, but instead of trying to get him down, you helped him up.

You knew what he saw.

When at Caraxes' side, you helped Daemon lower to his knees at his dragon's head. He whimpered and moaned, belly slashed open, wing torn apart; bleeding out into the cold soil he rested on. The Great Shadow moaned gently in sympathy, lowering herself around you three to let you grieve in peaceful, protective privacy and ease Caraxes to his next life.

The moon was fully in the sky when the crimson bloodwyrm took his final breath with the ebony giant's flames to warm you all. You weren't sure what could be done, but Daemon was pressing a tender kiss to his dragon's head before turning to face you - a lost, confused, vulnerable look coating his features. "Come on, love," you eased gently, helping him to his feet; knowing a few ribs were shattered and probably his clavicle, too.

"Where will we go now?"

"Well, I have somewhere safe for us t'live," you grunted in assurance, wobbling a little under his weight. "But we need rest for tonight. Any ideas?"

"I doubt anyone will venture to Harrenhal this night, should be safe..."

You agreed, and together, you and Daemon settled in the empty castle with the Great Shadow resting on the outskirts of the Keep. She was too big for the interior of the courtyard, so, she was left outside with Caraxes' corpse as you and Daemon settled in the room he had commandeered.

"How is this possible? How can you be here?" He asked, holding your hips as you worked between his spread legs. Daemon had minimal supplies at the ready; hopping up on a work bench to let you care for his injuries and wounds. He watched your every move with a softening look. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that I'd be cursed to only remember you in my dreams. Rhaenyra said I say your name a lot at night, when I sleep."

"I'm really here, Daemon, ease yourself," you offered an assuring grin, tending to the head wounds he obtained from the fight.

"How?"

"Nettles."

"What?"

"Nettles," you repeated with a smirk. "She's one of my Little Birds, Daemon. It was not entirely coincidence she found you..."

"So she said," he frowned. "But how - "

"She told me you needed me," you smiled softly. "And when I consulted the flames, I was shown what could be. I made a decision, I just wanted you safe, no matter what that meant."

"I just want you. Fuck," he seethed, squeezing your hips, "'s been fucking decades since I've even touched you."

"You're delirious," you teased. "Sleep deprived, maybe concussed."

"Perhaps all at once, but I finally have all I've dreamt of. Please," he whispered, "do not deny us longer. I've endured lifetimes - "

"Daemon, being here and now, you know I can't walk away. But we've time t'talk it all out, I need you to let me help your wounds - so sit still."

He nodded, "One thing I do not understand, though - the dragon? How did you...?"

"Spent two years in Valyria, looking for her."

"Why were you there?"

"Searching for a dragon, of course," you smirked. "She's impressive, isn't she? And from her size, I wager she can easily support us both back across the Narrow Sea."

He grit his teeth when you cleaned his open cuts and wounds, wrapping whatever clean cloth you had around the larger wounds; easing him out of his tunic to have better access to the blackened ribs he sported. "Would you tell me?" Daemon whispered some time later.

"Of what?"

"Your life since the Stepstones?"

"Oh," you chuckled, "sweet love, you know it was dreadfully boring without you."

"Doesn't seem it, you being in Valyria two years? That's not heard of, what was it like? How'd you survive? Why go looking for a dragon?"

This lead to you both laying in bed, hands held together, resting, but not sleeping. You just spoke quietly, fingertips tracing idly over each other's faces; sharing in each others lives that the other missed, reminiscing together in fond memories.

When morning broke, you had to move swiftly. Caraxes was left where he laid and after a final parting to the loyal beast and commandeering his saddle, together, you and Daemon mounted the Great Shadow. She wasn't a fan of the restraints, but once you and Daemon were mounted, she did not fuss as it was evident you humans had an easier time with the leather contraption.

"I must confess," Daemon whispered in your ear, using you as an anchor and leaning into your back, "I fear I might feel something akin to guilt for fleeing home."

"That's natural," you assured, "you're leaving family behind, 's never easy."

"There was no winning this war," he admitted, sighing. "I lead so many to their death... Destroyed my family - "

"From what I have heard, this is not your doing," you argued sharply. "That night, when Aemond attacked Lucerys, what were you to do? Leave that kind of atrocity without consequence? No, that is not in the Targaryen's nature. You did not start this war, Daemon."

"But I knew..."

"You knew what?"

"I knew Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were Harwin Strong's, not Laenor Velaryon's. We thought if we married her sons to my daughters, nobody would care much else about lineage - but we were wrong."

"It's okay to be wrong," you promised, leaning your head back to let your forehead rest against his temple. "It's okay to make mistakes or have regret. Tell me, do you wish to return to your wife? I will take you now, no quest - "

"No. No, I do not wish to leave you. This is... This is Rhaenyra's war, I've done my part. I'm free and finally with whom I belong."

"Now it's time to heal," you told him.

"Time to rest," he agreed, squeezing your waist and placing a few kisses to your neck. "This is where I should've been all this time... After the Stepstones, I should've stayed with you, none of this would've come to pass. I regret leaving you everyday - "

"I told you, for us to get here, to this point, now, we had to separate. But look where we are," you smiled back at him, the Great Shadow soaring higher in the sky to keep Westeros at a distance, "we will not be apart again. 'S you and me, love... Until our end, which we will greet together."

Daemon's lips found yours at long last, whispering, "Together," against them before sweeping his tongue against yours.

The port was lovely this time of day, sun high in the sky to give light to the fishermen and vendors hard at work. Sailors made port, calms were being shucked, different Aristocats trying to barter and trade on their journeys abroad. You smiled at the people you passed, grateful to be home after a prolonged absence; arm looped tight with Daemon's as you both strolled the pier.

"It's hard to imagine you've done all this in a lifetime or less," he mused, a hand folded over yours, dressed in the best clothes you could find. "It's s marvel, my sweet," his compliment was sincere.

"Thank you," you whispered, hugging his arm as your skirts swished around your ankles, just tickling your bare feet. "This season's expected to be bountiful," you told him, pointing to the various teams bringing crustaceans, fish, and other sea life in different crates and traps. "I expect there won't be much of an off-season."

He glanced around, "And you don't collect taxes?"

"Why would I?" You scoffed. "We're more dynamic than that. Everyone works for their place, if you wanted to think of it that way. They are not expected to contribute, but the village seems happier that way. Being close knit, helping one another, sharing wealth. No one person has complained, so, I figure it's working so far. Even if it didn't work, I still wouldn't charge them taxes - it'd be like charging them to live. Always seemed silly t'me."

"Morning, Mistress!"

"Morning, Don," you beamed, leading Daemon towards the dock. "How are you, kind sir? Looks as if you've been working all day already."

"Aye, up before the sun," he nodded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Wanted t'thank yah, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, yeah, with that dragon? We're hauling in more ships," he chuckled, and just overhead, the Great Shadow glided over them all to head out to sea to fetch another round of ships. "Gets us out there quick, brings us back when done, 's like a wee bit of an assembly line, ain't it?"

You chuckled, "Sounds like it, friend. Uh, Don, have I introduced you to my husband?"

"Husband?" Don grinned, cocking his head, "No, Mistress, I wasn't aware you even had a suitor. Mariam don't tell me much gossip these days," he snickered, referring to his wife. "It's nice t'meet you," he told Daemon, "name's Don, just Don - no, it ain't short for nothin'."

Daemon smirked some, shaking the man's fishy hand boldly, "A pleasure, Don, Just Don."

"Oh, this one's got a bit uh humor, don't he?" Don laughed lightly. "What's your name, lad?"

"Daemon?" A voice answered for you all, and just above you, a little further on the pier, stood an aged Laenor Velaryon.

"Excuse us, Don," you spoke swiftly, confusion marring your features. He understood or sensed the slight tension, backing off to let you approach the "dead" knight.

"Oh, my - Y/N," Laenor breathed, another aged man at his side with what you assume to be his children. No question could be asked yet as your old friend launched himself into your arms, laughing merrily, giving you a tight squeeze with his still-toned arms. "Oh, the Gods are good for this!" He laughed, rocking you slightly, "Oh, how the Seven bless us."

"You're so dramatic," you laughed back, patting him happily until he pulled back. "But I must confess, I am so fucking confused - what is this? How are you here? I thought you died, Laenor, that's what ever spy reported."

"They should've," he nodded, glancing at Daemon, "but perhaps, the explanation will be better received after some wine?" He caressed your cheek in affection before looking at your husband, nodding, "It's good to see you again, my Prince. Or is it King Consort?"

"Neither, just Daemon," he corrected, your heart soaring a little at the idea that he would abandon his title so easily. Yet you knew, there was nothing to go back to for him.

"Well, how about I introduce my family?"

"Family?" You grinned, seeing him present the others.

"My husband," he gestured, giving his name. "And our kids," he introduced the other three.

"How?" You asked simply.

"We found a Red Priest who was willing to officiate the ceremony," Laenor explained, "and the kids were sired by different mothers, too."

"Whores," the husband smiled.

"Huh," you nodded in impression. "Well, perhaps wine is best to hear that tale, as well?"

"Perhaps," Laenor grinned. "Uh, but first, we should find accommodations - "

"Oh, come off it, you're staying with us," you waved. "Your belongings?"

"This is it," he half-shrugged, you eyeing the few rucksacks around their feet, neck, shoulders... "We heard of the prosperity here, thought it was worth the move."

"How right you are," Daemon answered. "Come, old friend." He picked up a few sacks for the kids and you looped your arm with Laenor's to lead the way. How good it was to have your friend back, your husband at your side, and a functioning, happy village with your placement amongst them most important... Everything you could've wished for, it seemed, came true.

And in your womb, a Dragon Seed was planted; soon to make its announcement known. Truly, a happier ending than you thought deserved - but R'hollr worked mysteriously, blessing those deemed worthy to spread his flames.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x f!reader #daemon targaryen x female!reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen angst #prince daemon targaryen x fem!reader #prince daemon targaryen x f!reader #prince daemon targaryen x female!reader #prince daemon targaryen imagine #prince daemon targaryen fanfiction #prince daemon targaryen angst

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bokettochild · 8 months

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Through The Keyhole, See Another Life

Inspired by the giant flannel I've been wearing for the last week and how happy it makes me. This popped into my head at work because of it so.... here you go!

Fandom: Linked Universe

Characters: Time, Legend Four

Words: 1,954

Rating: Gen

Summary: The Chain are visiting the ranch, and while most of the other boys are finishing their chores, Time stumbles across Four introducing Legend to one of his guilty pleasures.

"Four, no."

Time glances up at the very firm voice echoing down the stairs. He’s not sure if the boys even know he’s come back to the main house yet, not with the guest room being on the backside of the house and unable to see the door and all. Usually, someone would have noticed the sound of the door opening, but all the other boys are outside with Malon, helping with the chores while their smithy and veteran rested inside.

The battle in his world had been a hard one, and as much as fairies and potions can do, they seemingly can’t prevent Legend’s chronic pain or Four’s migraines, both of which had been worsening for days even before arriving at the ranch. Malon, naturally, had insisted that both boys be allowed to sleep in today, and given they’d still been curled up tight in bed, tense and stressed even while asleep, he’d been inclined to agree.

It appears they’re awake now though, no doubt having found the breakfast laid just inside the door of their room for them, since no one had known if either would be willing to risk the stairs to find something while the rest of them were outside working. Still, he’d probably better check. He's been a bit worried about the two, and now that Malon has ordered him inside (he honestly wasn’t kicked that hard! The cows are just big!) he has plenty of time on his hands while the rest of his boys finish their assigned chores under his wife’s guidance.

“Why on earth not?” The smithy’s voice is a bit higher as it trails down the stairs to where he’s shucking off his boots and stretching out his back, feeling every one of his years, even the ones that technically didn’t happen.

Legend’s sigh is audible even through the floorboards, a soft groan probably accompanying a motion. “Because I don’t want to get in trouble?”

There’s a part of time that wants to snort at the words; the two heroes sound like children arguing about pulling a prank on their parents, but then the fact that he and Malon would be said parents in that situation hits him and it’s not as funny. Additionally, these are teen heroes, the idea that Legend is wary about it means whatever Four wants to do is either very dumb, very silly, or very dangerous, and he’s not sure which is the worse scenario.

He moves for the stairs, ears tuned closely to the door above, but feet quiet so they won’t hear him coming.

“I do this all the time, it’s nice! Come on, you’d love it if you let yourself.”

Okay then, less a worry, he pauses, listening. They’d probably resent that, but he’s curious now, and still a bit wary. He has to remind himself that Legend and Four are, in fact, two of the more level headed heroes- most of the time. At any rate, they’re usually pretty responsible, so even if he’s more used to Wild and Wind and (Hylia help him) Warriors, he really shouldn’t doubt them so much.

“Yes,” the bed upstairs creaks, “but you’re you. I’m me. There’s a big difference in how they’d react to you doing this- heck, Twilight would probably think it’s cute from you, and Sky definitely would-” definitely not dangerous then, or risky, or likely to cause damage of any sort “-but it’d be a whole different story with me.”

“You’re just scared to try.” Four taunts, headache clearly gone.

The bed creaks, like someone’s flopped on it. “Four, I am in too much pain to sit through Twilight chewing me out for being an ‘asshole’ again.” There’s a tick in the vet’s voice, a small hitch on the offending title. Come to think of it, his pup does tend to call the vet that pretty frequently.

Four doesn’t pause though, continuing his insistence on...whatever he’s insisting. “Then don’t touch Twilight’s things, he can’t be mad on someone else’s behalf.”

“He is.” Legend clips back. “frequently.”

Does his pup really chew the vet out that much?

“Blame me,” the smithy suggests, off-handed.”

The bed creaks again, a longer one, most likely as it’s resident shifts to face the smithy. He can imagine the deadpan tired stare and heavy sigh that likely touches their young vet’s face. “That’s the definition of an asshole move.”

“Then let me say it was my fault.”

“Again, you’re different. They‘d excuse it from you, but as a person with my own free will, they will blame me for-”

“Oh stop being a stick-in-the-mud!” Four huffs, petulant almost. He must be in one of his more childish moods, no doubt Red’s fault. It happens from time to time when they’re in a safe place and the smithy isn’t constantly around the other heroes. He didn’t think Legend would be allowed to see it, but maybe he’s wrong about that, because the smithy’s voice definitely has picked up the mannerisms of his more emotional aspect. “Just take this and put it on!”

Are they....is Four trying to get Legend to play dress up of some kind?

“Is that Time’s?” It’s hesitant, guarded, wary.

“He won’t mind, or notice either, I expect. He never does.”

Is Four getting into his things without his knowing? Since when? Time’s feet start back up the stairs again, only to pause once more at the vet’s hesitant voice.

“You sure he won’t crucify me or something?”

Malon’s going to kill him. That’s the impression he’s giving these younger heroes?

“Just do it,” Four huffs, “stop being a baby.”

And of course, insulting Legend is no way to get him to make the smart decision, whatever it is they're on about. He sets up the stairs again, creeping to the door of the guest room once he's reached the second floor and peeking around the door frame. The door’s still shut, but it’s little trouble to turn the handle ever so slowly and push it open enough to see what’s going on inside.

He’s not expecting what he sees.

Four is standing in the middle of the room, Sky’s embroidered undershirt hanging off of him like a rather short dress as he stares at the vet who’s still sitting on the bed where Time had left both of them early this morning. The vet, in turn, has similarly shed his own sweaty clothes, which he can see tossed over a nearby chair, and the pink-haired teen is currently drowning in what he recognizes to be one of his own tunics. The collar isn’t laced yet, but the vet is currently yanking at it to stop it trying to slip off a shoulder, struggling though because the sleeves of the outfit seem to have utterly swallowed his hands.

Four giggles. Red is definitely fronting, although the smile he sees on the smith’s face is more like Green’s. “Let me help.”

“It’s just the sleeves,” the other boy huffs, “I got it.” He doesn’t.

Time finds himself stifling a chuckle as he watches the vet fumble and fuss, switching between trying to free his hands and trying to tighten the collar. Any worries that the two were up to anything nefarious have long since vanished, although his will to see what they’re doing hasn’t.

They look like actual kids like this, Four decked out in stollen finery and Legend drowning in Time’s own clothes, much too big for him, to the point that with the next attempt to free his hands, long sleeves flap freely and loose in an effort of some sort (he can only presume) to make them fall down naturally. That effort though is quickly forgotten, the vet’s face loosening, softening somewhat, eyes wide as he pauses and then tentatively flaps the sleeves again. Four giggles, and Legend’s chuffing laughter follows it as he grins as his trapped hands and the excess fabric that shakes and snaps with his quick movements.

“Welcome,” the smithy sounds, “to the wonders of over-sized clothes. You’re welcome.”

“I hate you,” Legend sighs, but there's not a bit of actual malice in the words as he flops back against the pillows on the bed, seemingly having given up on trying to fit into Time’s clothes and instead accepting his fate. The boy’s face screws up a moment later in confusion though, and he lifts a hand to his face again with a frown, sniffing slightly at the shirt sleeve.

Time desperately, desperately hopes that Four didn’t steal that from his travel bag or dirty laundry. Except, he must not have, because Legend’s face softens again, this time into a smile, and he curls up a bit, burying his face in the fabric with a little hum that is strangely out of place for the harsh veteran they all have come to know. More so though, is the way Legend rubs his face across the fabric, ears flapping. It’s strangely adorable.

“Nice?” Four is definitely gloating.

Legend’s face rises for a moment out of the sleeves, a whole different person than Time knows, bitter-sweet smile and flushed cheeks. “’t smells like home.”

Something in his chest clenches violently.

There’s no such reaction from the smith though, who just looks pleasantly surprised, but nods it off with a smile, moving a bit closer and settling on the bedside, careful not to stir it and earning a brief look of thanks from the vet who is, now that he looks, still a bit pale and carrying tension around his shoulders and eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah” violet eyes fall down to stare at long sleeves, hand flapping slightly inside again, but not enough to do more than make the fabric shift and shuffle a bit. “Time must use the same aftershave as-” a pause, a twitch of the face into a frown. “It’s a familiar scent.”

It’s also a new one. Malon had got it for him for their wedding anniversary last year. He forgets what she called it, but she loves it, so he does too. On the road, it hardly matters what he smells like, but it makes him think of her and, like the captain says, it’s good to do small things for yourself even when traveling and fighting and struggling. Life’s not much worth living if it’s all harsh and you deny yourself even the small joys accessible to you. For him, that joy is remembering how his wife beams and showers him with kisses once he’s fresh faced again, but in the room before him, it can also mean stealing your team-mates' too big clothes and curling up in them when you aren’t feeling your best.

The smile that pulls across his face as Legend rolls over to face Four better, curled up tightly in himself as the smithy laughs about something, both looking peaceful, is also one of those things.

For a moment, a precious, fleeting moment, he can almost forget the two boys in the bedroom across from his own are heroes who have to save the world. Instead, he can almost imagine them waking up there and joining farm chores every day. No pain brought on by whatever these two have faced would exist in such a world and instead they’d be free to run wild around the barnyard, racing to finish chores or pulling pranks and making mischief like boys their age should be doing.

It’s a nice picture, and not even properly bitter-sweet, even though he knows it can’t be, because they're still there in front of him, peaceful and content and chattering quietly, one of his boys curled up in his shirt and the other in Sky’s, both discussing scents and colognes and what smells signal home.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #ketto writes #lu legend #lu four #lu time #dad time #soft legend #four has multiple personalities/the colors #fluffic

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talesofesther · 9 months

Text

under the sunlight

Summary: After 200 years of darkness, Astarion feels the sun on his skin again.

A/N: It's been quite a long while since I've enjoyed a game the way I'm enjoying BG3, a feeling I've missed all too much. And of course, this pretty, charming boy has secured his place in my heart fairly quickly. I love him, he deserves all the warmth and softness in the world. And this is a moment I've been wanting to visualize for a while. So, here's a small drabble about Astarion's first time back in the sunlight.

Requests for Astarion are open, if anyone wants more of him here. <3

Masterlist

The world around him smelled like smoke and burnt flesh, the air stung as it ghosted over his dry lips. Dust and remains of rubble clung to his skin, his body felt heavy and sore all over. Each movement more painful than the last, for seconds that felt like hours.

The pale elf didn't know how it happened, all he knew was that the mind flayer ship he had been trapped in had started to fall, and fall, and fall; until it crashed, and he crashed with it. He also had no idea how he had survived, but he wasn't about to complain.

A deep groan escaped Astarion as he steadily regained consciousness. He kept his eyes clenched shut, a headache pounding his head and making him wince.

He scratched the dirt and grass beneath him, grounding himself. His muscles complained as he slowly started to push himself up, and as he tried opening his eyes, a hiss fell past his lips and he blinked several times. Squinting, he tried to adjust his sight to the bright sunlight.

He stilled. Hand frozen midair as he was about to shake the dust off his hair.

Sunlight.

Moving faster than he probably should, given his state, the vampire crawled backward until his back hit the trunk of a tree. His skin only partially hidden from the warm glow.

He tucked his knees closer to his chest, eyes wide as he watched the soft slivers of sunlight that sneaked between the leaves dance on the tip of his fingers. With a trembling hand, he gingerly curled a finger around one strip of sunlight, as if the light would bend its rules for him to hold it.

Sharp fangs dug into his lower lip, scratching and drawing a drop of his own blood. There was a tightness in his chest, clawing at his throat; whether it was fear or hope he didn't know. Maybe a bit of both.

A soft breeze flew by, carrying away the stench of smoke and bringing a distinct perfume, no doubt from the berry bushes nearby. The skies cleared, welcoming, beckoning him under.

With his palm up, Astarion eyed the stripe of sunlight resting on his hand. The soft glow had a gentle warmth to it, kissing his pale skin ever so tenderly. It was enough to blur his sight, tears brimming on the bottom lid of his eyes.

Could it be?

Wobbling in his stance, feet unsteady, Astarion pushed himself up. He took one, and then two steps forward—resembling a wild cat walking into a cozy home, after sleeping countless nights out in cold streets.

When the warm light of the sun embraced him—without pain, without burning—a quiet whimper fell past his lips, and Astarion closed his eyes. He angled his chin up to the sky, pleading for the sun's attention. For it to kiss his cheeks and dry the drops of blood on his clothes. For it to shine on his silver hair and warm up his cold skin.

He blinked his eyes open, lower lip trembling when his sight was temporarily blinded by the light. He looked around him, to the bright greenery and the blue skies and the mountains far away.

It was so warm. After 200 years of cold nights. He felt so warm.

Tears fell down pale cheeks, glimmering, under the sunlight.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story

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gimmethatagustd · 9 months

Note

Hi Jaiiii 💕💕 So I wasn't going to send a spooky drabble request since I'm usually super bad at coming up with ideas and you're already writing my one and only wish - weird fairy outfit Jungkook - but theeeen something came over me and I may have made a moodboard...

To me this is giving siren! jimin x human! taehyung but you can totally take whatever element that inspires you from it and do your own thing!! Fluff, smut, angst, you know I'm always open to reading anything from you, so go wild. I hope this gives you something to work with because I had fun making it! Love youuu 💞💞💞

the wind speaks | kth + pjm

Something's living under the dock at the Kim family's beach house.

○ Pairing: Human!Taehyung x Siren!Jimin

○ Rating: Mature/18+

○ Genre: Supernatural, "friends" to "lovers", angst, yandere

○ 2 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Mermaid)

○ Word Count: 2,313

○ Warnings: Emotional manipulation, Jimin is supernaturally alluring so that makes the whole thing very questionable, potential drowning and major character death? perhaps? 👀 it's an ambiguous ending so who knows!

○ Notes: Hi Ivi bby, I hope you didn't think I forgot about your AMAZING moodboard 🥹 I really need to commission you to make all my moodboards for me cuz I'm seriously obsessed with this one. It gave me so many ideas and it fit perfectly with my 100 Drabble Challenge. I hope you like what I've come up with, even tho it's a lil bit intense jhskjdfs 💜 ily

○ Post Date: January 4, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? A spooky siren Spotify playlist

“Taehyung-ah! You have two hours before dinner, okay?”

“Yes, eomma!”

“Don’t make me have to come find you!”

“Yes, eomma!” Taehyung calls out before closing the sliding glass door to their deck.

The Kim family beach house sits just behind the sand dunes separating the beach from the homes lining the streets of their quiet town. The homes are nothing special, just boxy buildings with large windows built on high foundations to protect from flooding. The residents’ real treasures are boats, and the Kim dock is where Taehyung heads.

Taehyung’s fluffy hair whips in the cool autumn wind during his trek through the cleared walkway between the dunes leading to the beach. Reaching the sand, the toes of his boots darken as he trudges through it. All morning, it rained, making the sand clump like wet dirt. Slimy seaweed and other debris cake the shoreline, so Taehyung carefully walks along the beach.

The Kim dock isn’t anything fancy. Taehyung’s father built it himself out of wood he cut, sanded, and treated with his bare hands years ago. They keep their small fishing boat anchored to it – Singularity, named by Taehyung. He didn't know what to say when his parents asked him what it meant. He couldn’t outright admit that the word came to him in whispers in the wind when he sat at the edge of the dock, feet kicking in the air above the water. Taehyung has told one too many stories in the past; his parents are tired of hearing about his conversations with the wind. They said he would grow out of it, but Taehyung is freshly twenty, no longer a child, yet the wind still speaks.

It’s cold without the sun to chase away the rain clouds. Taehyung zips his windbreaker up to the base of his throat and crouches at the edge of the dock to peer out at the ocean. The water is clouded from the rain kicking up the sandy floor.

“Hi,” Taehyung speaks to the wind and hopes it remembers.

He left his phone at home, so he has no way of knowing how long he waits. The dock is rain-soaked, but his thighs burn from crouching. He opts for kneeling and shivers when his jeans absorb water at the knees.

“My Tae?”

“Yes!” Taehyung perks up, eyes searching the horizon where the gray sky meets the murky ocean waters. He never sees anything; it’s just the wind. He looks anyway.

“Where have you been, my Tae?” The wind sounds disappointed, and guilt makes Taehyung shrink further into his jacket like a frightened animal backed into a corner.

“I’m sorry. I go to college now,” Taehyung admits sheepishly, “Far from here, so I can only visit during school breaks.”

Waves lap at the legs of the dock. Sometimes, Taehyung thinks he sees things in the water, shadows bigger than the fish he catches off the dock in the summers. His father insists that the water is too shallow for large fish like sharks, but Taehyung doesn’t believe him.

“I miss my Tae when he isn’t around…”

Is it possible for a voice to be addicting? Taehyung swears the wind’s voice calms him. It’s silvery and alluring, a lullaby he could find himself falling into. He imagines himself falling asleep on a note, riding the soundwaves of the wind’s voice, ringing pure and cutting through the splash of waves meeting the dock. Sometimes, he wishes the wind would sing to him, knowing it would be a kind of heaven on earth if it did.

“I miss you, too. It’s hard making new friends. I can’t just talk to them about anything like I can with you.” He closes his eyes and feels the wind kiss each eyelid.

“You are my only friend,” the wind whispers, sounding so close that Taehyung thinks he can feel the wind swirl against the side of his face.

The air smells stronger now, a mixture of saltwater and petrichor. A cold front must be approaching. Taehyung worries it may rain again, but he doesn’t open his eyes to check. Something tells him not to, that it’s safer if he keeps them closed, though he doesn’t know why he’d need to be kept safe. Safe from what? The wind?

“Open your eyes, Taehyung,” the wind whispers softly, alluring, a temptation so sweet that Taehyung feels himself falling into it, “See me.”

“I’m scared,” Taehyung whimpers with a shiver. He tucks his hands between his thighs and holds his breath when he feels something caress his jaw, a light pressure like an index finger trailing from his earlobe to his chin.

“Why are you scared? I love you, my Tae.” The light touch sweeps back along his jaw and then trails down Taehyung’s throat until the collar of his jacket stops it. His wind loves him. “I would never hurt you. Now open your eyes.”

Cold hands gently cradle Taehyung’s face, palms to his cheeks. The hands are soft, slightly damp, and very much real. The wind can’t have hands, he tells himself. The wind is just wind. Taehyung’s stomach churns, tumbling like it does when his father’s boat hits a patch of rocky waves, sending fish flopping onto the bed of the boat and making Taehyung’s boots slide against the aluminum.

With his heart fluttering like a caged hummingbird, Taehyung slowly opens his eyes.

The wind is not air, but a young man with eyes a murky green like the sea who stares at Taehyung with parted glossy lips. Taehyung catches a glimpse of sharpened teeth behind those luscious lips, but he can’t focus on only one thing when there is so much of the man to take in. His shockingly white hair is messily braided with strips of seaweed and strings of pink pearls and draped over his shoulder – his naked shoulder – and Taehyung realizes the man is shirtless. Little jewels, pearls, and other shimmery gems decorate the man’s chest, outlining his sides until they reach his waist – covered in green scales that gleam despite the lack of sun. Taehyung inhales sharply when his eyes finally land on the sparkly fishtail draped over the side of the dock.

“I–” Panic swells in Taehyung’s chest. He gasps as though he’s been pulled underwater, the moisture in the air like the ocean in his lungs. “Who, who are you?”

“I am your wind, Taehyung,” the man says with a small smile. When he slides one hand up Taehyung’s face to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, he makes a sound like a cat purring. “But in the water, I am called Jimin.”

“Jimin,” Taehyung whispers. Jimin. It is such a soft name; Taehyung likes how his lips pucker when he says it. “Why didn’t you ever tell me your name? Why didn’t you show yourself to me?”

Jimin gives Taehyung a sad smile. “I was scared, too.”

Taehyung’s heart still beats frantically in his chest, but he calms down as Jimin plays with his hair, caressing and running his fingers through the strands. Jimin calls out Taehyung’s name, whispering it like a secret only they know, “My Tae, my sweet Tae, my precious Taehyungie, so happy to finally touch you.”

Taehyung finds himself closing his eyes and leaning into Jimin’s touch, letting out a quiet whimper when Jimin lightly scratches his scalp. Hypnotizing – the word bubbles up to the surface of Taehyung’s mind, his thoughts murky like the water beneath the dock. The wind, Jimin, is hypnotizing.

“Why?” Taehyung asks without explanation, but Jimin knows everything.

“I want to keep you.”

“Hmm?” Taehyung lifts his head, realizing he has rested it on Jimin’s shoulder. It’s comfortable in Jimin’s embrace, even though Taehyung’s pants are thoroughly soaked from rain and ocean water, and Jimin’s scales feel strange under his fingers when he skips them along Jimin’s waist.

“I want to keep you, my Tae. I can’t let you go.”

“Keep me where?” Taehyung asks with glossy round eyes. He points to the waves lapping at the dock. “In there?”

Jimin licks his lips, and Taehyung feels his stomach churn and dip like the climax of a rollercoaster or a freefall from a plane.

“Yes.” Jimin runs his thumb along the apple of Taehyung’s cheek. His touch is just as soothing as it is terrifying; Taehyung can’t comprehend how that is. “Will you come with me?”

Taehyung can’t. He can’t survive in the ocean; doesn’t his wind know that?

But there’s still the pull. The source of it sinks lower until it’s tugging at Taehyung’s belly, making him heat up despite the temperature quickly dropping around them. It’s almost night; he’s unsure if he has already missed dinner or if his mother is searching for him. Looking over his shoulder, he sees nothing– hears nothing but the chirp of gulls and the crash of waves.

“Taehyung.”

Jimin’s fingers curl around Taehyung’s chin and force Taehyung to face him again. The color of his eyes seems to have darkened with the sky, a light gray now when it was once green.

Taehyung’s name sounds so pretty, coming from Jimin’s pillowy lips, lips glossy and pink like the pearls in his hair, and the gems decorating his body.

Taehyung feels the pull, and he wonders if it’s Jimin giving him sealegs, even though they’re both sitting down. Something is terrifying about his beauty, something uncanny, like an android that looks a little too real, or the feeling you get when you realize a photograph is actually a painting – still beautiful but deceptive. There’s something scary about Jimin that Taehyung can’t fully understand before it slips through his fingers like sand.

Taehyung wants to kiss him.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, not knowing why he admits it out loud. He can’t stop himself from leaning into Jimin when he pulls Taehyung against him.

“My sweet Tae,” Jimin murmurs into Taehyung’s mouth.

Jimin’s tongue is slippery and tastes like saltwater, but it’s warm and deft as it flicks against Taehyung’s lips and slithers along Taehyung’s tongue. His hands tangle in Taehyung’s hair, yanking his head to the side to deepen the kiss. It’s fast and desperate, Taehyung moaning and gasping into Jimin and Jimin taking it with bites to Taehyung’s lips and groans of his own. Taehyung has never been kissed like this, held so gently but ravaged. His lungs burn as he drowns in his wind.

Taehyung groans when Jimin releases his mouth to suck on his neck, just above his jacket’s collar. Taehyung can do nothing but let Jimin pull his head back, and he watches the stars come into view when he’s laid flat on his back. Water soaks his hair, making the strands turn black, and Taehyung’s body shivers from the cold. Only his torso is relatively dry.

“Jimin,” Taehyung calls out, voice gravelly, nearly stuck in the back of his throat. “I can’t.”

I can’t survive in the ocean, he thinks, and can’t speak because Jimin suddenly straddles his thighs.

“Stay with me, Taehyung,” Jimin pleads, but it’s spoken with an authority Taehyung can’t imagine disobeying.

“Your legs,” Taehyung chokes and tries to push himself up on his elbows.

Gone is Jimin’s elegant tail. He has legs now, pretty legs with a smattering of green scales at his hips and along his calves. Jimin grips Taehyung’s hips with fingers that are greenish at the tips. His nails are sharpened into points and dig into his skin, even through his jacket.

“If you will not stay with me, let me give my Tae a gift,” Jimin whispers, his eyes sparkling like the ocean under the moonlight.

Taehyung nods quickly and squirms beneath him. “Something to remember you until I can visit again?”

Jimin licks his lips, eyes boring into Taehyung’s, and Taehyung gets another glimpse of sharp teeth. He rakes his nails down Taehyung’s body, from his hips to the tops of his thighs. Taehyung hears the denim rip and fray, but Jimin’s nails don’t break his skin.

“You’ll never forget me, my Tae.”

“Of course not,” Taehyung pants with a heaving chest. He feels wild, an animal taunted by the rattle of his ribs when Jimin suddenly shakes him.

“Your gift,” Jimin whispers as he leans forward, walking his green-tipped fingers up Taehyung’s torso until they’re hooked around his shoulders.

“My gift…”

Taehyung watches Jimin’s eyes change, shifting from gray to bright white, and his pupils turn into pinpoints.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid; I disdain all glittering gold,” Jimin sings softly as he yanks Taehyung into a sitting position and straddles his lap, “There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold.”

The song sounds familiar, but Taehyung doesn’t know why. The memory sits on the tip of his tongue and dances to the haunting tune of Jimin’s cadence, just out of Taehyung’s grasp. He finds that it doesn’t matter – not the memory, nor anything else.

“His hair, it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal. My happiness attend him wherever he may go.”

Taehyung’s head lolls to the side. He no longer holds it up, just lets Jimin’s warm palms squeeze his cheeks to keep him upright. He goes where Jimin moves him, tips his head backward when Jimin wants to stare into his eyes.

“From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep, and moan, all for my jolly sailor, until he sails home.”

Jimin’s nails puncture Taehyung’s jacket. He hooks his fingers through the material as he wraps his legs around Taehyung’s waist. Before Taehyung has the chance to do anything but let out a startled gasp, Jimin falls backward into the water, taking Taehyung with him.

There is no splash when their bodies slip past the ocean’s surface, only bubbles that pattern the otherwise still waters. The waves no longer lap against the Kim family’s dock. The wind no longer speaks.

@jooniesxbby @taegeum

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x jimin #jimin angst #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #bts angst #ivi~#jai writes #gimmethatagustd #btscontentenjoyer #jai asks #100 drabble challenge #vmin fanfic #the wind speaks

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zarvasace · 10 days

Note

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

Ahhhh okay, thank you!! 💜🌻 I finally have a free moment (aka work is slow) so I'm going to work on drafting this out :) I have far too much art I'm proud of—I'm at a stage in my progress right now where I think my art looks pretty awesome. So this list will be stuff from my Greatest Hits collection on AO3. In order of oldest to newest, I think:

incandescently happy

An LU post-adventure work, one of the first longer fics I posted. I released one chapter a day over the summer of 2022, so a lot of the notes have something about my day in them. It's about 30k all told.

I absolutely adored expanding on what the boys might do after the whole LU adventure happens (though I did forget about the fact that I think Time and Malon have a kid during this time!) This work features some proto-Shatterproof stuff, like Wind having a prosthetic leg and Four starting to specialize in crafting prosthetics/disability aids. I gave Hyrule longer hair and a job making maps for the royal family. Legend got another adventure but also started a magic garden/orchard, which pulls in more business than Ravio's stuff. Four and his grandpa adopted a single mother and her two kids. Man I went off with some of these headcanons. I've always considered writing more in this world, but I think it stands very well on its own. Maybe someday I might revisit and rewrite it with some of my new skills. :)

Rise and Shine and Fall

Whumptober 2022, focused entirely on LU! Guys this thing is almost 78k. I realize now that most people pre-plan or pre-write for things like Whumptober, but I wrote these one by one every day, which was extra-hard because I had both college classes and a day job at the time. I came up with some fun AUs, learned a lot about writing (especially whump), and proved to myself that I can do hard things like this!! I've adored doing daily challenges since, though I haven't done it in a while. I look forward to this year's whumptober though!

I really like the table of contents in the first chapter—it makes things easy to find. I know individual works are probably more accessible, but I was still getting to know AO3, and those big numbers are fun. XD I have a hard time picking favorites, because I really went off on these, but I'd say a couple of them are:

Chp 3, "Right Here" about Sky

Chp 7, "Proof of Life" about Four and Shadow

Chp 18, "I'm onwy a babey :(" about Wind

Chp 21, "6:13" about Hyrule and Time

Chp 26, "Silence is Golden" about Wild

Chp 31-32, "The Worst Thing About Earth" about Legend, but kind of more specifically the rewrite/expansion I did last year... haha...

The Marvelous Misadventures of Wind and His Merry Band or Maybe-Human Heroes

It's been a while since I updated this story (56k, 6/8 chapters), but it's constantly on my mind. I've started chapter 7 twice, and I know what I want to happen, but I am easily distracted by the siren call of some other whump fics. XD

I freaking love this story, though. I really want to finish it. It's kind of an... experiment? I guess? I want to get published someday, and I picture myself writing middle-grade novels. This story is sort of my attempt to hit that tone. Also I just love Wind so so so much. Let him be cool!!

Blood-Sucker's Guide to High School

56k Four Swords completed story! I wrote this in a frenzy of like two or three weeks, then took another two to edit. It takes plot points from a vampire novel I enjoyed and twists and applies them to a story about Shadow and the Four Swords manga boys. I'm very proud of what I accomplished here, and that it's a complete story! I think it worked out really well. I learned a lot about plotting and handling larger stories, and it helped that I had the half-remembered structure of an existing novel to use as training wheels.

I love the worldbuilding in this story! The premise is that Shadow is an evil soulless vampire from a (rather abusive, not that he sees it) family of the same, but then he gets the ability to walk in the sunshine. He's assigned to go to high school for a while to get a feast for the vampire gala, but meanwhile he's developing a conscience and getting very attached to these human boys. I think I did a good job. I love rereading this, every scene is just so fun! :)

Counterbalance

55k exactly of a stupid LU darks AU. This started life as a series of oneshots and then the plot progressively got more and more convoluted and I love these stupid boys so much. The plot is very much not tight, in contrast to Blood-Sucker's Guide, but I learned a lot about how I write and how I like to plan with this one, too.

The characters are stupid and the plot is just kinda silly and there is both a bathhouse scene AND a spa scene. Legend blows up multiple things, my lovely nasty little Dark Links need smacks and therapy, and Prince has a legitimately emotional moment at the end. I love how it turned out, it's like an ugly little stuffed animal I made and hug until the eyes pop out.

That's five but I would be extremely remiss if I did not also mention something from Shatterproof:

The Incredible Shrinking Chain

About 10k, this is entry 31/68 in my series Shatterproof, which is a close-canon AU in which each of the boys has a different physical disability. This series also plays into my publishing ambitions, because whatever I publish will very likely have some disability representation. I'm rather passionate about it, actually! Shatterproof is close to my heart, and I'm so honored that so many people seem to love it too. :) I need to work on the next entry again!!

This entry in particular is so much fun. In it, the whole Chain sans Four is stuck mouse-sized, and Four has to travel out to Twilight's castle with them to get Dusk to help break the curse. They all have to figure out how to navigate while tiny, and Four pulls some very silly stunts. I love them.

Anyway, there's my list!! I've written a lot over the last like two and a half years, and I'm so so glad that I get to be here and part of this community. The LU fandom as a whole (or at least the parts I've seen!) is so welcoming and positive and I try to give back where I can! I'm going to suggest looking through my bookmarks and ultimate rec list collection to find some new favorites from some very talented authors! :) (oof I need to update the collection soon!! I've been seeing some awesome stuff!)

#my writing #<3 #fic rec

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have-kake · 6 months

Text

Big Brother [3/3]

Three instances of big brother instincts within the chain. [Ao3 Link]

[Part 1: Wind] [Part 2: Twilight] [Part 3: Warriors]

The chain had been traveling aimlessly until a portal dumped them back in the middle of Hyrule field. Legend groans loudly at their surroundings. It feels like every time they decide to go to a town, a portal gets in their way.

"I think this is mine," Time says, a faint smile on his face.

Hyrule instantly perks up. "Does that mean we get to see Miss Malon again?"

Time grins at him. "If you don't mind the farm work."

Wind woops in response much to everyone's amusement.

"Welp, I guess it's settled," Wars says patting Time on the back "We're off to see the Missus again!"

Malon greets them all warmly. She spends time hugging each of them as she welcomes them home. She even introduces them to her father who's home this time. He's a portly old man with deep crows feet and laugh lines around his mouth. Much like Malon, he's able to instantly identify Twilight as a farmer.

Time tries to put them to work but quickly gets overruled by Malon and Talon. Wars won't admit it, but he's grateful for their intervention. Farm work is hard. Last time, he felt muscles he didn't even know he had ache!

Some of the group still insist on working, though. Twilight bullies his way into helping Malon clean the cow stables. Sky is more than happy to herd cuccos. And Four finds his way to the farrier.

Wars grins as Time shuffles around the house for a few minutes. He's completely changed out of his armor into stiffer clothes. "Heading out to help too?" Wars asks.

Time pauses in his search to look up at him. "Hm? Yeah. I'm gonna help Talon weed the crops."

Wars' grin widens. He glances around making sure the others aren't around. "You know," he starts off innocently. He tries not to laugh at the look Time gives him. "I'm glad I finally get to meet my little brother's old man. He must have a well of Patience greater than the expanses of time itself to deal with you."

"Just because I've told him about you doesn't mean he believes it."

"Malon believed you. Besides, it won't be too hard to convince him."

"You're going to be insufferable aren't you?" Time asks drily.

"Oh, absolutely," Wars replies without hesitation. "It's only fair."

The weary sigh of defeat he gets is music to his ears.

Wars sits on the porch as Wind, Hyrule, and Wild all run around in circles. He won't pretend to know what game they're playing, but it's nice to see them relax.

"Aren't there nine of you boys?"

He smiles at Talon as the old man takes a seat in the other chair. "Legend's inside taking a nap," he says. "He gets cranky when we're on the road for too long."

Talon laughs. "I'd've thought a Hero would be used to the road."

Wars startles. He knows Time tells Malon everything and she believes him, but he made it seem like Talon never did. It's jarring to hear him speak with the same candidness Malon does, but Wars is glad Time has people he can talk to. "Legend's been through more adventures than any of us," he explains. "All in just a handful of years... He deserves the rest."

"You boys are all so young," Talon says quietly.

Wind shrieks in delight when Hyrule picks him up and tosses him to Wild. Hyrule's accompanying laughter is carefree, and even Wild's smile is easier than usual.

Mask was bitter when he first stepped through the portal. It had nothing to do with the horrors of war. He was already haunted by pain and loss long before he ever set foot in Wars' era. He was so young; about the same age as Wind at the time. Yet the two are as different as night and day.

Sensing his mood, Talon starts to get up. "What d'you say to helping me get started on dinner, boy?"

Wars follows him with a quiet chuckle. "I know an order when I hear one, sir," he grins, "but fair warning: I'm a terrible cook."

He's surprised by how well Talon directs him around the kitchen. It's not the ease with which Time and Malon function with each other, or the ease Wild finds in any kitchen. But it's nice.

Time enters some time later and pauses at the sight of them. He raises a single eyebrow when Wars spots him.

Wars shrugs in response.

"What happened to letting the boys rest?" Time asks.

"I know a man in need of a distraction when I see one," Talon responds plainly. "See if you can't go help Malon and your boy. Dinner'll be done in an hour."

Time narrows his eyes at the two. Wars gives him a cheeky grin and Time scowls. They're not planning anything, but Time doesn't have to know that.

Talon chuckles at their exchange. "He keeps doing stuff like that, and I'll have to believe him."

"Oh?"

Talon claps him on the back. "I know what brothers tormenting each other looks like."

Wars laughs. "I need to get payback somehow."

"So you really knew him when he was a kid?"

"Only for about three years, but yes."

Talon hesitates for a moment. Wars is instantly on guard. "Has he always been vague about his answers?"

"What do you mean?" He asks carefully.

"Like if you ask him the things he's fought."

Wars instantly relaxes. "Lemme guess," he says drily. "The moon."

Talon nods with a tired look. "He won't explain it either."

"I know what you mean," he sighs. "When he first showed up in my world and demanded to fight, we asked him what the biggest thing he fought was and he said the moon. So we asked him what he meant. And guess what he does?"

Talon points up.

"Yes!" He raises his arm straight up and points. He does his best impression of Mask's scowling face, and with a patronizing voice he says, "I mean the moon! What's so hard to understand about that? If you don't get something as easy as that, why are you even in charge?"

Talon howls with laughter.

"So a few weeks ago I ask him the same thing. Y'know, to see if his answer's changed." Wars grins. "Hey Old Man, what's the biggest thing you ever fought?"

"The– oh ho," Talon wheezes between laughs. "The moon!"

"The moon!" Wars crows. "And he still refuses to elaborate!"

Dinner prep continues on for almost another hour. Wars knew that making food for so many people was a process, but he never realized how intensive it was. He's more than a little frayed by the time they finish. Talon pats him on the back approvingly, and the looks on the others faces is more than worth it.

He spends a little time watching the others as they settle down to eat. Time and Twilight sit on either side of Malon. Wind takes a seat next to Talon and makes easy conversation with the old man.

Wind really is a kid of many talents. He handles a grumpy Legend with the grace of a practiced brother while falling for his bait in equal measures. Yet he's able to hold long and easy conversations with adults and the elderly.

Wars is glad his adventures don't weigh him down. At least, he hopes they don't and Wind isn't just hiding the pain.

"You okay, Cap?" Twilight asks.

"Yeah. Just thinking of the little brother I had for a second."

Twilight and those closest to them grow quiet. "Sorry."

Wars raises an eyebrow before laughing loudly. "It's nothing like that!" He assures to all the sad faces. "It's just what he became to me. He was sent home when all was said and done. I do still miss him to this day, though," he sighs with a hand on his chest. He grins at the way Time snorts.

Wind lets out a loud sound of disappointment from across the table. "Does that mean I'll never get to meet him?"

Sometimes Wars forgets Wind spent a few weeks in his war. It was so late into the fighting, the war was practically over. That and he was far from the main fighting, usually just holding the far lines from any advances. It's just as important for holding the army together as the main lines, but fairly uneventful by the time Wind got there. He's still kicking himself for not making the time to go meet him properly back then.

"Count yourself lucky," Wars teases. "I love him, but he was an absolute menace."

Legend snorts. "Can't be that bad."

"Two words," he says making eye contact with Time. "Mask Duty."

Wind chokes on his juice. After he gets his coughing in control he all but shouts, "Mask was your little brother?!”

He's taken aback by the response. "Yeah?"

Wind scrambles to pull his sleeve back and hold up his forearm. "He bit me!"

Wars' jaw drops.

Talon and Hyrule lean over to get a better look.

Wars turns to Time who's studiously picking at his plate. He rubs a hand over his face with a groan. "Great Three, please have mercy on me. Is that why I was stuck on stable duty for almost two months?"

The others snicker at him.Time uses the noise to mutter a quiet, "No," but Wars knows that tone. It absolutely was his fault.

With a long dramatic sigh, Wars uses his melodramatic voice, as Mask liked to call it. He likes to call it his tired older brother voice. "Wind, on behalf of my little brother, I apologize for his horrible behavior. I ask you find it in your heart to forgive him."

Time glares at him but he has practice ignoring that particular look.

Twilight whistles lowly. "That sounds practiced. How often did he get in trouble?"

Wars resists the urge to smirk. "More times than I can count," he sighs sadly. "But I'm sure you'd all rather hear something else."

Just as expected, the table explodes into commotion. He sends a smirk Time's way and nearly cracks. Time's scowl has turned into a full on pout. Suddenly Wars finds himself look at Mask like he's been caught sneaking into the stables for the third time that week and not an adult ten years his senior with a wife.

"Okay, okay," Wars laughs. "I'll tell you a few stories."

He tells them of the first time Mask appeared on the field and the absolute mayhem it caused. A good portion of the soldiers had their attention split between halting the enemy Lieutenant and keeping the literal child safe. Not that Mask made it easier. He refused to be pulled off the field and even broke the hand of one of the soldiers trying to hold him back.

Wars tells them of the way his heart leapt into his throat when Mask rushed forward. A tiny child with a sword too big to properly carry rushing at a monster three times his size! Only for the little boy to swing the the massive claymore and slice the monster in two.

They still tried to bench Mask after that, of course. No one felt comfortable putting a child in the front lines despite his clear skill. That didn't matter to Mask, though.

It was a particularly hard battle and they were loosing. Impa was out for the count and Wars wasn't advancing fast enough. They would've lost—died—if Mask hadn't jumped in with all the unpredictability of a storm.

"You should have seen the way he yelled at us!" He wheezes. "I've never seen Impa or Artemis make faces like that before. He got his wish, though, and he was put in the main lines."

Malon giggles. "My, he seems like quite the spirited young man." Her eyes shine with mirth as Time's shoulders hike up in embarrassment.

"And very protective of the people around him," he nods. "For as much trouble as he caused, as much as he yelled and terrorized everyone, he loved the people around him."

Sky coos at the story. "He was probably so sweet in private."

Wars laughs. "Hardly! You just had to learn how he showed affection."

Hyrule winces. "Oh gosh, how bad?"

"So a lot of the soldiers didn't like we let a kid in the field right," he says, "so they started acting up. They'd question orders, disregard plans, speak I'll of her Majesty. Mask would absolutely terrorize the poor souls. I'd almost feel bad if they didn't deserve it."

"Wait, so how did Mask Duty start?" Wind asks.

"Mostly from that. Soldiers who questioned Artemis about Mask's presence ended up with the kid in their squads. That eventually evolved to a punishment for any serious offenses."

Wind cackles, surely remembering the fearful whispers of Mask Duty among the troops.

"Surely he wasn't a menace the whole time?" Sky winces.

"Well yeah, he was still a kid," Wars shrugs. "Show him something cool and he'll play with it for days. And he loved slight of hand tricks! He'd even pull on my scarf to get my attention. I'm not paying attention to him, he'll yank until I do. I'm spending too much time trying the perfect a strategy, and he'll yank on my scarf until I stop. I skip a meal, and he yanks until I get something to eat. He has a nightmare and instead of just waking me up, he drops all his weight on to my stomach."

He's completely lost in thought by this point. At the time, Mask had seemed to be constantly harassing him, but the years have given him perspective. Mask was just making sure they didn't crumble under the weight of responsibility.

"There was one particular battle that went horribly. Our forces were decimated. We barely escaped with our lives. Zelda completely closed herself off from everyone," he says quietly. "Not even Impa could get to her. Those were some dark days... But then one day laughter breaks through the silence. Mask had gotten Zelda to leave her tent. She was pale and her eyes red from crying, but she was playing in the mud with him."

He chuckles feeling the sudden tightness in his throat. "I think we'd all forgotten what joy was at that point. For as much trouble as he caused, Mask reminded us all there was still hope."

There's a tug on his scarf and Wars automatically looks down before remembering he has to look up now. Time's face is concerned as he looks him over. "You okay?"

Wars smiles. He pushes back the memories and ruffles Time's hair. "I'm fine, Sprite. Don't worry about it."

The table explodes into a mess of shouts and questions. Wars startles so bad he bangs his knee on the underside of the table.

"You bit me!" Wind accuses.

Time sputters, face pink with embarrassment. He looks to Wars for help.

Wars shrugs. "I told you you'd face the consequences of your actions one day." Time looks so panicked at the prospect that Wars caves immediately.

He helps Time field as many questions and accusations as he can. Eventually the others calm down. Though they spend the rest of the evening muttering amongst themselves and taking turns looking at Wind's bite mark.

Wars shakes his head as Twilight looks at the mark for the third time. "I can believe you bit him."

Time crosses his arms defensively. "He tried to take my Keaton mask."

"That's not an excuse to bite someone!"

Time looks away with a huff.

Wars laughs. He throws an arm around Time's neck and drags the man down at an uncomfortable angle. "Spirits, you've chilled out, but you're still the same little shit I knew," he says fondly. "I can't believe it took me so long to recognize you."

Time growls and yanks on his scarf in annoyance. Wars smirks at the feeling. It's the same way he used try to choke Wars when he was younger.

With practiced ease, and no longer having to hold back against a little kid, Wars wrestles Time to the floor. He grins triumphantly from where he sits on Time's back. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, Sprite," he teases. "Maybe I can give you some pointers."

Time deflates, seemingly accepting his fate.

"I can't believe he's a younger brother," Legend mutters with a frown.

Twilight stands next to him with a truly horrified expression.

Wind nods, seemingly unbothered by Twilight's unresponsiveness. "It almost makes too much sense."

"You're a terrible person," Time mutters.

Wars pats him on the head. "I know."

#linked universe #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fic #lu warriors #lu time #Again. Looking back at this there's a lot of details I would change #Not entirely happy w/ Mask's portrayal but it's not as egregious as it could've been lol #You can tell I wrote this before I unlocked Young Link in Hyrule Warriors. Kid is so damn happy and smiley in the game lolll #have fics #my fics

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mezzy303 · 5 months

Text

HI IN LIGHT OF CHAPTER 1114 OF ONE PIECE I AM COMBINING SOME THEORIES A BIT

It might be safe to say that I can axe my theory (here) that the world is sinking due to natural phenomena lol. BUT I'm gonna keep the idea that the people of the Great Kingdom knew the event would happen sometime in the future, and add on the one that connects Lulusia and Enies Lobby (here).

To summarize the latter, the One Piece Wikia has a trivia note on the Lulusia page that points out that the crater formed after Lulusia was destroyed is similar to the circular falls that surround Enies Lobby. This had got me thinking that 800 years ago, the same or similar weapon was used on an island (possibly the Great Kingdom itself) and the World Govt placed their judicial island over the subsequent crater as a monument to their victory and an example of the lengths they'd go for their "justice."

And now from the new chapter, Vegapunk has directly connected the rising sea levels from the Mother Flame weapon to the Void Century. “In order to understand where the world is heading, we must first address the past, specifically what happened 900 to 800 years ago.” This likely means that the weapon Imu and the Five Elders used existed 800 years ago, if one would need to know the past to understand what's currently going on. A threat from the past is also threatening the future. And I feel like with every chapter, there are more hints that suggest this weapon could be Uranus, the final Ancient Weapon. We know next to nothing about Uranus, except that it's one of the three Ancient Weapons mentioned in the Poneglyphs. Since the other two relate to the gods they're named after, many fans have theorized that Uranus will relate to the sky somehow. And as the lasers that annihilated Lulusia came from the sky, it's likely that the weapon is somewhere above the clouds, which would fit in the theorized theme for Uranus. Also the amount of destruction it caused aligns with what we've been told about the Ancient Weapons' potential. An island-sized crater in the earth that causes global earthquakes and rising sea levels certainly counts as mass destruction!

I've been mulling in my head since the last chapter that the Elders have had this weapon at least since the end of the Void Century, but that it could only be used with the Ancient Energy (the same energy the Iron Giant had run on) of the Great Kingdom and that technology was lost after its fall. And then comes Vegapunk who was researching this energy to create his own everlasting energy source to better the world, thus developing the Mother Flame. On a side note, I wonder if the Elders were using Vegapunk this whole time in order to create something that Uranus could run on. Idk I get that York tipped them off, but it seems too coincidental that the Elders would get a sample of the Flame and a guaranteed loyalist that can create it, and then order Vegapunk's death soon after. Vegapunk just seems like too much of a wild card to have been kept alive for so long.

But back on topic!! When the Elders were "testing the Mother Flame" on Lulusia, what I think they were really doing was seeing if that energy would work with Uranus. And because it did, they are desperate to make sure the Flame stays intact on Egghead, as it's they're only way to use Uranus. They've already shown the extent they'll go to in order to keep the world under their feet, it would be just a minor inconvenience for the world's land to sink if it means they can continuously subjugate entire islands in an instant (they live on the Red Line, what does it matter to them if sea levels rise?)

And if the Elders, likely some of the original 20 allied monarchs, had similar views 800 years ago as they do now, then it probably wasn't hard to conclude how they would use Uranus when they got their hands on it. And that could be the reason why Noah was built. Those of the Great Kingdom, a highly advanced civilization, knew the ramifications of using Uranus and thus were preparing for the inevitability of a world with little land. As Doflamingo mentioned, just 5 more meters of rising sea level would swallow up most urban spaces, so it would only take at least 5 more times of using Uranus to sink the majority of land globally (if each use causes sea levels to rise 1 meter). The World Govt then erased records of the Ancient Weapons to make sure no one else could threaten them with the other two, but also to hide the fact they already had one in their possession. And as a counter, the shipwrights of Water 7 passed down Pluton’s blueprints in case the World Govt got hold of that weapon too, which I had brought up in one of my posts.

I feel like with every chapter I'm reforming and rerouting theories lmao. Let's see how this holds up in two weeks 😂

#once again i hope this all makes sense in the mornign ahaha #i have half a mind that the great kingdom had some oracle or soothsayer lmao #like how did they know the 'dawn of the world' would happen 800 yrs after the void century war #one piece 1114 #one piece #one piece spoilers #vegapunk #five elders #one piece imu #egghead spoilers

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crazylittlejester · 5 months

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I started typing and it got out of control...

I don't know if you've watched Ever After High or not, but I've been re-watching the entire show on account of not having much to do and I've come to the conclusion that an LU crossover with EAH would be absolutely awesome. The general idea is that characters from fairytales grow up and have kids that re-enact their parents' stories and this happens over and over again to the point that their entire society is built around this. Since they have a magic book that kind of seals your fate if you sign it, this is where the conflict of the show comes from.

Obviously there are a few different ways a person could go about setting this up but I'm just going to pick out fairy tale parents and backstories for them because I think that's the most fun.

Warriors: I'm thinking that he'd be best as Helen of Troy. Greek mythology is canon in EAH because of Cupid, so it works. The same themes of lust and infatuation are present. Also war.

Wild: He fits Sleeping Beauty's story the most, but that's already taken so the next best thing is Rip Van Winkle. It's only 20 years compared to 100, but I think it's the closest I'm getting for now, and the point is that he wakes up as an old man.

Sky: I think he should be the guy from the jabberwocky poem that uses the vorpal sword to defeat it. The jabberwocky is supposed to be the most powerful monster in EAH last I checked, so it would be the closest equivalent to Demise other than the Evil Queen.

Legend: Given that wizards are supposed to live a long time, Merlin would be a good fit for Legend because he'd have a few centuries to finish growing up into a mature wizard. He could still be a veteran of adventures this way without sacrificing his magical abilities.

Twilight: Unfortunately there aren't really any stories about wolves that aren't villains so he's tragically stuck being a non-descript farmer. I'm so sorry. Under other circumstances he'd get to be one the guy from "East of the Sun and West of the Moon" except that guy is a bear and not a wolf.

Wind: I'm torn between picking an infamous pirate or a story from mythology. Either one would probably work, to be honest, but it would probably work better if Tetra was a pirate's daughter and he's related to a deity in charge of ocean storms.

Hyrule: Ended up picking Jack the Giant Killer for him because that story's about surviving because you're clever, and Hyrule's games are supposed to be ridiculously hard. Also there's a magic sword involved.

Four: With the Minish he could totally fit into the story about the little elves that help the tailor/cobbler. But there's a story called "The Four Skillful Brothers" and I can't say no because it literally ends with them rescuing the princess via teamwork and splitting the reward.

Time: I feel like he'd fit in best as some kind of forest spirit or changeling, but as the Hero's Shade he could also be Godfather Death. I've been thinking about it and I really can't come up with a good placement for him.

Spirit Tracks Link gets an honorary mention because he is canon in my heart. Since New Hyrule is in the middle of the industrial revolution he's probably more of an urban legend. Either the ghost of a train conductor's kid or a guy cursed to see ghosts like his Zelda.

I know nothing about ever after high but im obsessed with what you’ve just said to me oh my god

first of all anytime someone draws the connection between Wars and Helen of Troy I loose my mind a bit, one day when I have the proper brain capacity and time I’m going to write a whole ass analysis paper on the comparison between the two of them because its so important to me

ALSO JABBERWOCKY MENTION??? I’M OBSESSED. AND JACK THE GIANT KILLER FOR HYRULE?? dude I can see you spent sooo much time thinking about this and oh my god I am so obsessed this is really cool, you ate

#jes talks #jes ask #linked universe #lu warriors #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu four #lu wild #lu wind #lu legend #lu hyrule

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xmorguekittyx · 1 year

Text

Ever Unlocked

Part 5: Broken Mug

Part 4: A Uneventful Shift

pairing: Officer!Leon Kennedy x Coroner’s Assistant!Reader

warnings: Thoughts of sex, creepy actions such as sniffing underwear, violence, breaking and entering (let me know if i missed any!)

It was still fucking raining. Raccoon City was like Seattle. It rained more often than not near the end of the year, half the year they were dry, people taking walks through the beautiful plant nurseries. The wild life here was beautiful once you got out of the major city area. Then, the other half, you'd be lucky if you got any sunshine. Clouds and rain drowning out the sun and hustle and bustle. Leon preferred the sun, he loved the rain too, but feeling those rays of the big flaming ball of gas in the sky made him feel alive, it hit a reset button on his mentality. Without it, sometimes he felt a bit fuzzed. At least today, Leon was one of the officers that was sent home early. It was still so slow, Chief Irons didn't see any reason to have so many officers stay. It was dark out as the persistent droplets beat against his windshield, blurring his vision. They all mixed into a waterfall of obscurity.

He shouldn't be here. He knew that. The two-toned apartment building barely visible through the rain that pelted his Jeep. She had to stay back, since only her and Rebecca worked in the Coroner's Office. She was no doubt still slightly leaning over that desk, typing away with her foot tucked tightly under her. No doubt her eyes blinking back exhaustion as she stared at the bright screen and blinking text bar, as she has been when he finally pushed himself out of that ugly ass red chair. He'd gone back to the large area; he and his fellow officers used as a shared office space, opening up the McGrath file, before a hand broke his consciousness, Chief Irons informing him he was sending a few officers home for the night as it seemed it would be dead all night, but that if anything changed, he'd be the first to know.

A strike of lightening lit up Leon's face, causing him to cover his eyes. As his eyes opened back up slowly, he looked to his dash, 6:45pm. Had he really sat here 15 minutes? He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring slightly. He rocked his jaw as he contemplated, he could just go up to her door and try the handle. Just to see if she truly did leave it unlocked every day. This girl had to be wanting this, who was she to tell a man, a stranger, something so sensitive? He couldn't wrap his head around the heedless decision. He wanted to just see if she was honest, surely, she was, he just needed a reason that seemed less creepy to him, a worried coworker, and a soon to be friend- then lover. He had to make sure his girl- his naive, stupid little bunny- was safe. He couldn't let any other wolves get to his pretty little bunny.

His thumb wrapped around the top of her doorknob, his other fingers under it as he stood in the 1st floor hallway. "Oh, hello.", he heard a fragile voice call out to him, a woman, clearly in her fifties to sixties stood across from him. "I don't think I've seen you around before.", she squinted up at Leon, the glasses on her nose very thick and even had the chains handing down and around her neck. He realized she was waiting on him to speak, his fingers leaving the cold knob, then disappearing into the hair at the nape of his neck, rubbing anxiously at the short blond locks. "I'm her boyfriend, she told me about her heater not kicking on. I came to take a look at it before she got here.", his anxiety causing a pink flush to cover his cheeks. "Oh, what a sweet thing to do! She hasn't mentioned you before. Did you two recently start dating?", her words were innocent and a bit shocked. Her little dachshund sitting at her feet. His mouth felt dry as he licked at his chapped lips, hand falling limp by his side. "Yeah, actually. Last week I asked her.", he knew his looks gave him an upper hand. "You seem like a very sweet boy. I'm glad she met someone as thoughtful as you. She's a sweet girl.", her lips curling back to smile, showing off crow's feet.

"Well, I'll get out of your hair. It was nice to meet you, Mr.?", she trailed off, looking up at the blonde man. "Leon, Leon Kenndy and likewise Mrs. Jones.", perfect. Show her you are familiar with those in her life, that way there's even less suspicion. Leon felt proud of how he handled that. He had created a good basis that if she saw him around again, he was just her neighbor's boyfriend. He smirked as he reached for the doorknob once more, his wrist turning as the latch retracted. Silly, silly, stupid bunny. His eyes squinted as he smiled, he was going to get a taste of her, an intimately close taste of her haven. He nearly shook from joy, pushing the door open as he stepped in, that smell. Oh, that sickly sweet smell that engulfed his senses as he looked over the dark apartment. It was just as he remembered it. So welcoming, despite his motives. His hands slowly pressed the door closed, making the latch silently and slowly slide back into place, he didn't want it to make a sound. He feared that a small noise would break this air he filled the apartment with.

His feet slowly crept further into the darkness that permeated the rooms. It was so... her. The kitchen was small, even smaller than he remembered. He felt his jacket snag on one of her island chairs. The chair squeaking against the floor. He lifted his pocket from the snagged piece of wood, pushing it back as he looked down at the island. She had a few bills, some with a "LATE" stamp across them. Did she not get paid well at RPD? He almost let himself forget his intrusion as he lifted one up. Checking over her name and address, yep, it was hers. He felt a pain in his chest, was she struggling? A soft breath left his lips as he places the envelope back down. He would do something about that soon. He lifted his phone from his jacket pocket, snapping a photo of the name of her bills, making sure he could read the name of the companies. He didn't like the idea of his bunny struggling to pay for anything. He made decent money, decent enough anyway. He'd call them Friday after he got off work. He placed his phone next to the bills; he'd grab it on his way out. He was too enamored by the feeling that being in her home was giving him.

Before he could think much more that memory of her purple bedspread came to the forefront of his mind. He wanted to see it again, see her room for himself. He turned down the black hallway, the soft rain and thunder serenading him and his eerie actions. The door was shut. It never stopped him before as he prepared himself to invade her privacy even more. Pushing the door with his left hand, breath hitching as the first thing he saw being her underwear on the floor next to a pair of sleep pants. He stared, mesmerized by the cloth as he bent down to pick it up. His fingers tightening around the lace. It felt so delicate in his hands, bringing them up to his nose. Sickly sweet, just like her.

He early dropped them as the lights from a car shone into the room, he quickly peeked from the window, seeing her 2002 Nissan Maxima pull up. "I told her to text me and I'd take her home again.", he growled as he slipped the panties into his pocket. He'd save them for later. He couldn't wait to see that black lace wrapped around his cock, pumping back and forth into them as he imagined her. Her back arched as he rocked his hips into her, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His cock wept at the mental image. He let out a harsh breath as he felt his cock twitch. The sound of steps jolting him from his daydreams as he turned his head to face the hallway. He looked back at the window, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone for a light before his breath hitched, his phone, he snarled. His fucking phone. He pushed into her kitchen as he heard the latch of the door click. He snatched his phone as he rushed to the sink, her refrigerator stuck out just far enough for him to remain hidden in the dark.

Her lips parted into a yawn, her hands stretching over her head. She was so tired, her eyes nearly closing. Exhaustion was clear on her barely lit face as she pulled out her phone. Leon prayed, silently, that she wasn't texting him. Her face, now more visible from the small light from the device's screen. She looked so beautiful. So peaceful. He wanted to share this moment with her, watching her arrive home and because he got off earlier, he'd have dinner ready for her. He would make them a plate while she changed, wait for her on the couch while he picked out a movie, or if she preferred to eat at the table, he'd gladly sit there and listen to her rant about how Rebecca prattled on all day. He'd listen to her talk about anything, including the bodies that came into her morgue. He just wanted her, he thought about her belly large with his child. He thought about how after a long day of work, he'd come home to see her, waddling to him with a baby on her hip. Leon always wanted a family, something he, himself, lacked after his parents' untimely demise.

He hadn't realized in his daydreaming state, he'd taken a step closer to her. His boot stepping onto her grey wooden floors, as his heel met the flooring, a soft squeak sounded out, breaking the near perfect silence. He watched her, his heart rapidly beating against his chest. Her irises moved, her head still as she looked from the corner of her eyes towards the sound, she was frozen, head still tilted towards her phone as she bent her wrist, moving the phone to light up some of her kitchen. She looked like a cartoon, her lips parting as her eyes grew in size. Her brows raising as she looked up at Leon. He could almost predict her next movement as his hand clasped over her lips, pulling her into his chest. "Shh...", he muffled her scream, the sound not nearly as shrill as it could've been. Her phone falling to the floor, lighting up down her hallway. Fingers digging into his arm as she tried to pry him off of her. "I- I'm not trying to hurt you-", he tried to coo her, brushing her hair back with his one hand, his chin near her temple. "It's okay. I was just-", he felt her foot come down on toes. He yelped, his hold on her loosening as her hands forcefully pushed against his ribs. "What-", she turned, swiping her phone from the floor as she ran down her hallway. Leon still could feel the wetness on the palm of his hand from her tears.

He searched the small island, feeling around until he felt a coffee mug she must've left out, probably one from last night, the night they had spent together. She couldn't call 911, he'd lose his job. He would be ruined if they knew he had entered into her home uninvited. He lifted the mug by the handle, taking the lunges across her kitchen to slam the mug down on the back of her head. She let out a whimper of pain as the mug shattered against her skull. Her body dropping as he heard the thud of her body hit the wooden floor, her phone sliding away until it hit the white wall. He almost felt bad, he did, he did feel bad as he heard the soft groan from her lips. She made him do this, if she had just listened to him. He said he didn't want to hurt her and yet, she still tried to hurt him. He felt pained, she'd tried to hurt him.

His eyes softened as he looked down at her crumpled form, her skirt rose slightly as her one knee was lifted. "I didn't want to hurt you, bunny.", he whispered, crouching down to he could lift her into his arms. Her blouse thin against his hand as his other arm wrapped around her bare thighs, carrying her bridal style into her bedroom. He laid her down, pulling the messy blanket and sheet over her. He brushed her hair back from her eyes, her eyelids flickering as she slept. He didn't mean to cause her any harm. He just- he understood his acts could've been taken a wrong way. She wanted this, though, right?

Leon swept up the broken mug, tossing it into her trash can, the cup of Honey Hollow coffee still sitting atop the rest of her garbage. He dumped the dust pan, closing the trash and placed the broom carefully back where he had found it. His breath heavy as he walked back to the hallway, picking up her phone and spinning the metallic and glass device in his hand, no cracks. Nothing for her to notice. He made the short pathway to her bedside table, plugging her phone in. He hoped she'd think it was a nightmare, that she passed out as soon as she got home and dreamed the entire thing.

He sat on the edge of her bed once more, his hand finding hers as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, the thin skin soft under his rough finger pad. "I'm sorry, bunny. You'll understand one day that this is all for you.", he whispered, leaning over her. His lips brushing past the hair on the crown of her head, pressing a lingering kiss into her hair. "My beautiful, naive little bunny. I'll always protect and watch you.", and with a final brush of his finger pad onto her hand. Leon made his way back to his 1997 Jeep. He could still feel the way her hair felt against his lips, his azure eyes going back to her bedroom window, he watched her curtain blow in the breeze, knowing she was unconscious behind it as his hands slid into his pocket. He toyed the lacy fabric between his fingers. "I'll see you tomorrow, bunny.", his words lost in that same breeze.

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cain-e-brookman · 1 month

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i was tagged by @illarian-rambling! thanks!

Rules: post brief descriptions of some characters and a poll, then get people to vote on their favorite

okay i've done this for the main cast of book one, lets see how much i can give away for book two characters

propaganda under the cut

Hesperos is a Sky Mage of Clan Galanis who worship the eldest of the Sky God's children: Khrou the Messenger, Goddess of Lightning. Exiled from his clan at a young age, for reasons he won't speak on, he was found off the coast of Vizia on a half-destroyed vessel by a young merchant lord after being abandoned at sea. Although he grew up alongside the carefree culture of the Sea God's children, he keeps to his clan's disciplined philosophy, as to never lose the grace of his goddess. Despite the strict adherence to his religion, Hesperos is, well, a ham. A performer from a young age, he loves nothing more than music, theater, and being the most dramatic person in any given room. He's enjoyed the wealth of his guardian, but never puts on airs and it polite to a detriment. His manners are his shield, as there's much he hides behind a charming word and easy smile.

You have two options. If you want to know her as a friend, you know her as Miss Belle, the owner of the most bustling tavern in Crescaeya: The Sunk Gator, home of the most authentic Marsher cuisine this side of the border. If you want to know her as an enemy, it's General Isabelle Duplantis-LaBoef of the Shadow Kings Army. During the war, she was known as the most ruthless defender on the home front. The only person in history who had ever sunk even a single Vizian ship, let alone three. After the heated peace talks ended, and the Vizian Armada broke their embargo, Miss Belle stayed on with the army long enough to get her sash of medals from the Shadow King, then move north to Uslaria for her restaurant. It's better not to ask too many questions; all good Marshers know this. So no one questions the late night shipments at her door, or how the large woman who always has the private table upstairs resembles a particular Vizian Fleet Admiral...

Anyone who's been in a room with Tavi knows he's royal, no matter what blood or title say. A merchant marine made guild leader, he's known to be as two-faced as they come. In balls and social events, the picture of grace and charm, funny and social. Anyone on the business side knows this is a lie. He's a controlling, stubborn, and hard business man who knows how to get things done. No one can deny he gets results, though, and through a friendship (or more if the rumors are to believed) with the duchess, he's managed to worm himself deep into the inner working of the largest trade city in Uslaria. After years of watching him slowly take control, most now understand why his family signet is an octopus.

Silas was once a carpenter who lived deep into the wild lands tucked into the heart of the Marshes, the Dark Waters, but was pulled from his life during the war with the Fire Mages. Marked by the Silver Moon as the most true Mage in his small town, he was drafted the moment the Marshes were attacked. His time in the Shadow King's army brought him far from home and ended when his unit was attacked in an ambush as they pushed their way through enemy lines in the middle of the night. He spotted the attack before his sleeping camp had, sounded the alarm and held back the assault long enough to give his men a fighting chance. In doing so, he sacrificed himself to the fire, and that night, under the light of the Silver Moon, he died. Or so the casualty report would say. The healers didn't think he'd survive the hour from the burns, but he did, becoming the only living person to ever hold the medal for a sacrificial death in defense of the people of Ixoryn. (He made it very clear when he made it home, he wasn't giving it back.) Now, he lives in Crescaeya as Tavi's live-in bodyguard, able to intimidate most before they even think of hurting his lord. The burn scars on most of his body sends a very clear message: You're gonna have to do worse than this to take me down.

and i'll tag @spideronthesun @skullduggeryandfilibuster @emrowene @topazadine! as always no pressure!

#in my own words #tag game #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #queer fantasy author #wip: the name. witch #or technically the unnamed sequel #oc: hesperos vi galanis #oc: isabelle duplantis lebeof #oc: tavi saccularius rutilus #oc: silas eau sombre

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pigeonxp · 2 months

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my fav lyrics from all hell, as of my first (technically second) listen

in italics are my absolute fav lyrics of the entire album

This is not including the instrumentals as they dont have lyrics (ovbiously) but just know that they were life changing and absolutely magnificent and very very dear to me.

The Coin-Op Guillotine

☆ "Your eyes glazed over while you sat unlistening / you said your head's on fire and every thought is kindling / a tired life is a wild ride for the saddest boy on the waterslide / when the breadcrumbs only lead to where you've been"

☆ "Heart erupts and the pavement splatters / i think i'm right, i don't think it matters"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Holy Smokes (2005)

☆ "Forward, morning after, cleanse your sins inside a dock dry bath tub / between the hunt sabs, ACABs, sobbing, being sick / hearing your name in the chorus left me prostrate in the pit"

☆ "You're the only thought in my head / you're the only thought i've got left in my head"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

A Psychic Wound

☆ "They say put him down, a sickly dog, but competition's healthy / coffee rings, a perfect circle, i appreciate the beauty / do you still have that one tattoo? / that's how it works, of course you do"

☆ "it's a psychic wound you can't conceal / closing, opening, never heals"

☆ "if you're not the one that's leaving, you're the one that's left behind"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

I. Spit; or, a Bite Mark in the Shape of the Sunflower State

☆ "I'm sure of this as i'm of you: / spit will mend the bruise"

☆ (basically the whole song. this one was life changing i fear)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Long Throes

☆ "Thought your heart was broken, but it's only yearning"

☆ "Me and my friends are sadists, backbreakers for spineless / wish 'em dead and then we'll put it in a song"

☆ "anxieties and maladies are falling out of love"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Feast of Tongues

☆ "Swear i'd live through all of your nightmares if it meant that i could sleep okay"

☆ "I want the trust of every animal / gonna bay for the blood of those that are hurting ya / when the black cloud comes, if one flame flickers / we will feast on the tongues of the last bootlickers"

☆ "...grab you by the hips and say it's you that i'm grateful for"

☆ "To the tune of a national anthem / of a country that didn't survive / in a language i've learned and forgotten / i'll stay home, keep the garden alive"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The Order of the Seasons

☆ "While the happiness ain't certain, you know heartbreak's guaranteed"

☆ "It's been many years, since i played a high-line / they ask you how you feel, you say "i feel fine" / the order of the seasons depends on when you're born / i start count in winter, and heading for a fall"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

To Hell in a Handjob

☆ "The Sky's a pall, our blooming bodies wilt (an endless nothing)"

☆ "There's grief within my flesh and bones / cut me, watch the sorrow flow / floating in the flood now / floating in the flood now"

☆ "Mortal joy, so close to heaven / if i'm first punch, you're two to seven"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Clown Blood; or, Orpheus' bobbing Head

☆ "God only knows i am scurrilously making this about me"

☆ "She fucks to cum, i drink to be drunk, and both of us are wasted"

☆ "Parasocial puppet master / every sucker in between / sacrificial muppet pastor / to a thousand needy teens"

☆ "Orpheus' head bobs in the ocean / i admit it takes one to know one"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

kms

☆ "No lie, i would lay down my life / for any rat in the road / yeah i, i'd lay down my life for you / depressive episode"

☆ "it's a medical condition to hold such inhibitions / second serving, sophomore slump / (so called 'cause you suffer more)"

☆ "i truly hope that both our luck is out / i'd kill myself if he won"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Moonstruck

☆ "When the light falls i illuminate / i am moonstruck, it's a welcome fate"

☆ "night takes color from the dusk now / paints it crimson in my jaw (I tumble from the pedestal)"

☆ "It's hard to find the romance / in a town not known for sunsets"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

0898 HEARTACHE

☆ "You are the sight and seeing, you're a reflection of it"

☆ "Restored to earth, afforded a second birth / dine on my rotten fruit for years to come"

☆ "i'm mouth agape arms open wide, not to receive but crucified"

☆ "0898 HEARTACHE / you're calling me a mistake, just call me if you want a bad time / dial 0898 HEARTACHE / if you're calling me's a mistake, then tell me why we're both still on the line?"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Adult Acne Stigmata

☆ "Can you once see what you love / without imagining it gone?"

☆ "You're royal and you're flush / i'm tower, swords, and death"

☆ "Heart swells / you're so beautiful, the sky is blue / but we both know too well / it's all hell"

#los campesinos! moots and oomfs this if for you #i love love loveeedd this album soooo much it was so fucking good #idk what my fav is yet but rn im still leaning towards feast of tongues idk #i rly liked clown blood/orpheus' bobbing head bc it was so different than what we have heard from them yk? imo #los campesinos!#all hell #all hell los campesinos!

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monsteraddict1 · 2 days

Text

Red Sky Warning

This is a cod fic that I’m working on. It’s also on Wattpad I swear it’s good. A lil Simon Riley x reader

Prologue

A nice warm day. The tree outside of my room casted a shadow from the sunlight outside.

Seventeen.

Dancing Queen had been blasting in my headphones since I woke up. It's my seventeenth birthday. What else would I be listening to?

I was sat at my desk with my headphones as I was peacefully playing CSGO. Well as peaceful as I could play CSGO. It mostly ended in me screaming profanities at my mic and my step mom telling me to watch my mouth while my friend Jackie burst out laughing.

"You got enough money to move out yet?" She asked with a laugh.

"Almost." I said with a smile on my face. "My Aunt said when I turn eighteen I can move in with her. She's never really home so..."

"Oh so you'll practically be by yourself."

"Yup! It's gonna be great!" I beamed as I got another kill in.

We played a few more rounds a few friends joined. Our friends Darragh and Damien joined so we messed around a bit.

"What time is it over there anyway? Do you guys just not eat dinner?" Jackie asked them.

"Ate just before joinin'." Darragh's Irish accent rang through my headset.

"It's 6:30 over here." Damien joined in.

"It's 1:30 over here. Jesus, I haven't left my room at all today." I laughed.

"It's yer birthday! Go do something!" Darragh yelled through the mic.

"I am doing something! I'm hanging out with you guys!"

"Ye're a feckin lost cause."

"Oh fuck off!"

"Language! Young lady!" My step mom's voice yelled though was muffled by my headset.

"Sorry!" I yelled back down.

"I swear my dad married her for a green card." I grumbled.

"HA! Imagine living in America!" Darragh laughed then immediately got shot.

"Karma." You could practically hear the smirk on Jackie.

"I remember when you came here and said that everything is more exciting here. And I agree. Ireland is boring as fuck." I replied to Darragh.

"You guys do have better food." Damien spoke.

"Bro went to Buffalo Wild Wings once and wants to go to America." Darragh made fun of Damien and we all joined in with laughter.

"I'M FUCKIN DEAD AGAIN!" Darragh screamed, full fuckin diaphragm.

"Alright Will Ramos, calm down."

"You guys should come to America next summer." Jackie suggested. "We can all crash at (Y/n)'s place since she'll practically be alone."

"I don't think my Aunt Kate would be okay with that. And I think I'm going to Ireland with my uncle to visit family."

"And us too!" Darragh cut in.

"Eh. If I have time I might stop by." I smiled sarcastically.

"Your aunt Kate is friends with British people. I don't care for her opinion." Damien said in a serious tone but we all knew he was joking... kinda. "And you better visit us." He huffed.

"Oi! I'm half British!" Yelled Darragh.

"She works for the government. I don't care for her opinion." Jackie joined in.

"You guys are just haters. She's not that bad." I smiled. "Not bad at all if she's willing to take me in."

"She doesn't know what she's in for." Jackie laughed.

"Don't think she does, but whateveh."

We played for another two hours before we got off. I walked downstairs and saw my step mom at the table.

The lights were dim and my feet were cold on the wooden floor. Next to her was a smaller table dressed in a baby blue tablecloth. A few pictures of my half brother. His deep brown eyes smiling through the photos. A couple of his favorite plushes on the table as well.

Along with his urn.

Luke died of leukemia two years ago. Almost exactly eight years after my dad died. My step mom hasn't been the same since my father's passing. So you could imagine what it was like after her only baby boy died.

I truly felt bad for my mom because Luke was her blood child but she acts like I barely exist anymore. I know I'm not really her kid but I've known her a long time and it's like it doesn't even matter. Her whole family is like that though. Well, except her sister Kate. She's the only normal person in her family. My mom doesn't really like her all that much but she's one of those people that won't cut people off because their family. It works out for me because I love my aunt Kate.

"Mom?" I asked looking at her. She looked at me with a dead stare. I only call her mom because I've known her for so long. "Are you okay?"

"It should've been you..." She mumbled. Her eyes were dilated and she looked out of it.

She was referring to my brother. It wasn't the first time she's said something like this but usually she was sober. Right now there was clearly something in her system. I didn't know what exactly. She's not a big drinker and I know the only alcohol in the house is the box of Mikes in my room.

"I know." I mumbled. I gave up on fighting her about this long ago. She's Grieving, I'll give her time. I'll be out of here soon enough.

"You never help around the house, you sit in your room all day doing god knows what!" She attempted to rase her voice. It came out strained and slurred.

She suddenly stood up though she was swaying from side to side. I walked to her side to help her. Next thing I knew I had a stinging feeling on my cheek. She must've used all of her strength to slap me because I stumbled back. I barely even moved. My mouth slightly agape. I just stared at her as she tried to steady herself.

Her lips were turning blue and she was shaking.

"Mom?" No reply. All her hair was in the front of her face. She was sticky with sweat. "Mom?" I asked a little louder. "Mom you're scaring me!" I walked closer to her. An orange bottle caught my eye when I looked over at Luke's memorial.

Shit.

"MOM!" I yelled as I laid her down on the floor. I quickly grabbed my phone and called 911. My heart was going a mile a minute.

The paramedics took her away. Her skin was graying as she was being loaded into the ambulance. My face felt wet with tears.

If she dies on my fucking birthday.

It's not fair! She gets to overdose on my birthday! Like I didn't lose a father and a brother! I'm losing the only mother I've ever known?!

I walked back inside. I grabbed my phone from my pocket. A picture of the four of us as my Home Screen. I screamed and threw it at the wall.

It's not fair!

I went over to my now shattered phone and opened it. Slightly cutting my thumb on the glass. I hit the contact and it rang twice before picking up.

"Aunt Kate?"

#simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #it’s my first time posting on this platform:(#call of duty

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peachy-princess777 · 6 days

Text

@grim-reapers-wife

Im not sure if this mention thing works but if not this was requested by a really nice angel 😇 I hope you like this one,love

Jacob Black was a man of the wilderness, his muscles honed by years of roaming the dense forests of La Push. The evening air was crisp as him and you,his girlfriend, strolled along the beach, the waves lapping gently at your feet. His eyes danced with the light of the setting sun, reflecting the warm hues of the sky. You looked at him, your heart fluttering with a mix of love and excitement for the future you would build together.

As the last sliver of light disappeared, the conversation between the two of you grew more intimate. Jacob spoke of his pack, his brothers, and the responsibilities that came with being a werewolf. You listened attentively, feeling a surge of pride for the man you had chosen to stand by. His dedication to his family and his tribe was unwavering, a testament to his strength of character.

You shared your dreams, your hopes, and fears about the future. The stars began to emerge, sprinkling the night sky like a thousand shimmering diamonds. Jacob's hand tightened around yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand. His touch sent warmth through your body, a comforting reminder of his presence.

"You know," he said, his voice low and rumbling, "being with you makes everything feel right. I've never felt this way before."

You looked into his eyes, feeling the same intensity, the same pull that had drawn you to him from the moment you first met. "I feel the same, Jacob. Being your girlfriend has been... extraordinary."

Jacob stopped walking, turning to face you. His gaze searched yours, his expression a mix of love and something else, something wild and primal. "You're the only one who truly understands me, who accepts me for what I am."

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Emily used to say that love was about seeing the best in people, even when they couldn't see it themselves. She believed everyone had a beast within them, and it was our job to tame it."

Jacob's expression grew thoughtful, his eyes darkening with a memory. "Emily was always wise beyond her years. She knew how to handle the guys in the pack when we were out of control."

He stepped closer, his hands sliding around your waist. His touch was gentle yet firm, like the embrace of a lover and the grip of a protector. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his scent becoming more potent as the night grew colder. You knew what was coming, the signs were unmistakable. His pupils dilated, his breath grew shallow, and his skin felt hotter than usual.

"Jacob," you whispered, "are you okay?"

He leaned in, his nose brushing against your neck, inhaling deeply. "I'm in..I need you,Y/N" he murmured, his voice strained. "I can't control it."

You stiffened in his embrace, understanding what he meant. This was the first time it had happened since you two had started dating, and while you were aware of the physical nature of his transformation, the reality of it was more intense than you had ever imagined. His breath was warm and moist, sending shivers down your spine. His scent grew stronger, a heady mix of earth and something else you couldn't identify, overwhelming your senses.

As the two of you made your way back to him and Billy's house(Billy was not home because he was watching the game with Charlie at his house), the tension grew palpable. Jacob's gaze grew intense, his movements more deliberate, as if he was holding back a storm brewing within him. He leaned in, brushing a lock of hair from your face, and whispered, "You look so beautiful tonight." His voice had desire, sending shivers down your spine.

Once inside, the energy between you was electric. He pulled you close, his hands roaming over your body as if he hadn't touched you in an eternity. You felt his warmth, his breath against your neck, and a primal need grew in your core. Without a word, he scooped you up and carried you to his room, the scent of the ocean still clinging to your clothes. He laid you down on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, and you could see the hunger in them.

Jacob's actions grew more urgent as he removed his shirt, revealing his taut abs and broad chest. The sound of fabric tearing filled the room as he yanked it over his head. He was in heat, a phase that came upon him twice a year, and it was a night that both thrilled and slightly terrified you. The raw, animalistic need was a stark contrast to his usual gentle nature, but you knew it was a part of him you had to accept.

With trembling hands, he began to undo the buttons of your blouse, his eyes lingering on each inch of skin revealed. "Your skin is so soft," he murmured, his voice a low growl of appreciation. "It's like the finest silk under my fingertips." As he peeled away the layers of your clothing, he continued his verbal worship, his words both tender and degrading, a confusing mix that somehow only served to excite you more. You felt like a goddess and a prey all at once, a thrilling combination that made your heart race.

The moment your clothes were discarded, he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was as fierce as it was passionate. His teeth grazed your lower lip, a hint of the wolf within him. You could feel his muscles tense and his body quivering with restraint as he held himself above you. His eyes searched yours for consent, and finding it, he positioned himself between your legs, his gaze never wavering. He slid into you with a groan, filling you in a way that made you feel complete, yet stretched to the brink of what you could handle.

You gasped as he began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. "You're mine," he murmured against your skin, his teeth nipping at your neck. "Mine to love, mine to claim." The words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, even as you felt a twinge of something else— the thrill of being utterly possessed. "Tell me you're mine," he demanded, his voice thick with need.

You nodded, your voice a breathy whisper. "I'm yours, Jacob. Yours."

Jacob's eyes flashed with a feral light at your words, and he pulled you closer, adjusting his grip so that your legs were above his and he was essentially squatting. The mating press position was a dominant move, a show of power and possession that was inherently wolf-like. It made your heart race even as it filled you with a strange sense of security. His other hand traced the curve of your body, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple, sending a shiver of pleasure through you "you are so beautiful,how did I get so lucky?". His movements grew more erratic, his breath coming in ragged pants.

The sensation of him inside you was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that made your toes curl. You could feel him swell with every thrust, his body tightening as he approached his peak. "I'm going to make you cum," he growled, his teeth grazing your ear. "Again and again,and you are going to take it"

The first orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you without warning. You arched your back, your nails digging into his shoulders as you screamed out his name. He didn't stop, though, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. His eyes were on yours, watching as you came apart in his arms, a smug smile playing on his lips "you've got this,you are doing so good".

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue claiming yours as his hips continued to move in a steady, punishing rhythm. You could feel the pressure building again, your body responding to his touch even as the first waves of pleasure began to recede. His hand found its way between your legs, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure to keep you on edge.

The second orgasm built slowly, like a crescendo in a symphony of passion. You felt every inch of him, every pulse and throb, until you couldn't hold back any longer. Your body tensed, and you called out into the night, your muscles clenching around him. Jacob groaned in satisfaction, his grip tightening as he claimed you completely.

As the second climax subsided, he pulled back to look at you, his eyes a mix of love and hunger. "Again,baby,be good for me" he whispered, and you nodded, lost in the haze of pleasure. His thumb didn't stop moving, the steady rhythm a siren's song to your oversensitive nerves. You watched as his eyes grew darker, his control slipping away

Jacob's movements grew more demanding, his hips driving into you with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You bucked against him, your breath coming in gasps as the tension coiled tighter and tighter.

The third orgasm hit like a bolt of lightning, stealing your breath and making your entire body spasm with ecstasy. Jacob's eye's snapped shut as he let out a groan that echoed through the quiet house. He slammed into you one final time, his release flooding through him, his body shaking with the intensity of his climax.

For a moment, you lay there, panting and trembling, as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through your body. Jacob's weight pressed you into the mattress, his breathing as ragged as yours. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a testament to the intensity of the moment.

Slowly, his grip on you loosened, his body relaxing as the heat of his climax faded. He pulled out gently, his eyes flickering open to meet yours. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a tender rumble that belied the ferocity of his actions.

You nodded, still dizzy from the onslaught of pleasure. "More than okay," you managed to murmur, your voice hoarse.

Jacob's smile was filled with satisfaction, his eyes glowing with a soft light. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His teeth grazed your lower lip gently, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before. "I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.

The rest of the night was a blur of passionate kisses and gentle caresses. Jacob had satisfied his arousal, leaving only the tender, loving man you knew behind. You lay tangled in the sheets, your bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that had been separated for far too long. The room was filled with the scent of fresh air thanks to the window that was open a crack and the faint sent of sex, a potent reminder of the intense moments you had just shared.

#x y/n #x reader #fluff #smut #angst #x YN #x yn #Jacob Black imagine #Jacob Black imagines #Jacob Black smut #Jacob Black x reader smut #Jacob Black x reader #Jacob Black x Y/N #Jacob Black x y/n #Jacob Black x YN #imagines

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