#Linking Swords even alone I see

[completeoveranalysis]

[3]

Oh I LOVE this. The first page here begins by touching on the topic of the distance that has been between them for a while now due to everything that’s happened. He mentions ‘As long as it’s you’ because he’s met OTHER Tomoyo at this point, and the reason that happened at all was because Tomoyo sent him away in the first place - and Tomoyo smiles sadly, or perhaps thoughtfully, at the subtle reference to that difference. 

Kurogane then immediately brings up Evil Wolverine’s initial plans for him, which I’m THRILLED by because I genuinely didn’t think they’d address this between them. But Tomoyo uses examples of their past together to say that Evil Wolverine’s plan was NEVER going to work with Kurogane (He didn’t even do what TOMOYO wanted after all), and IT MAKES KUROGANE SMILE. They end the second page by BOTH SMILING, the closeness between them re-established by both parties. And OH the character growth Tomoyo must see in him. To go from the Kurogane in Chapter 2 to the Kurogane before her now must be the most amazing thing to witness, to see this gentleness, to see this sense of calm, to see a touch of the same prickly nature he always had but this time with his heart full of love and the wisdom to know what ACTUALLY matters the most. 

It really shows that even though they’re not talking about the fact that Kurogane is about to leave again, they’ve emotionally realigned themselves and nothing is different between them, even if they're very different people now.

I don’t actually know this for certain but I feel like the wording at the start of this page might be a little off, in tone at the very least. Kurogane asking for confirmation that what Evil Wolverine did was a "crime" is like the LEAST compelling way to start topic of conversation, but I’m just going to reword it in my head and keep going. 

I… 

Wait EXCUSE ME?

DID WE KNOW THIS?

... I'VE FORGOTTEN SOMETHING HAVEN'T I.

The sword Kurogane had with him WAS NOT THE ACTUAL GINRYUU BUT JUST A COPY OF IT.

SO. THAT ONE CHAPTER COVER THAT HAD KUROGANE WITH THE TWO GINRYUU SWORDS WASN’T JUST A COOL FLAVOUR MOMENT BUT REFERENCING THAT HE DID IN FACT HAVE TWO OF THESE ALL ALONG AND THAT IT WOULD BE RELEVANT AGAIN SOON.

EXCUSE ME I’M HAVING A MOMENT

[phoenixcatch7]

Okay you know what actually yeah. I was tired but I had a point.

Why. On earth. In zelda fics. Do people not shut up about everything being hylia's fault forever and ever.

Like, the one deity out of a dozen odd who got cursed into this right alongside Link. All the focus on one great all being power who then gets blamed or blessed for everything that ever happens. It's just... I don't know, it just seems like a culturally Christian thing. Not even that - American catholic.

Especially Legend omg when people write him he never shuts up about how everything bad that's ever happened to him is all hylia's fault and she's doing it on purpose with no thought to her poor beleagured hero. He sounds like someone who grew up in an American conservative household who turned out to be queer and never bothered to unpack any of it and acts like he's now atheist.

But even then you could do something interesting with that!! The common headcanon that Legend is hylian royalty - of course that family would put immense worth and worship on hylia as her descendants, she who founded their kingdom. And maybe legend could feel bitter about not inheriting the magic, or the throne, or whatever meant he grew up away from the castle. Give him some unexamined religious trauma! Heck, he could bond with Flora over disappointing your family's expectations or something! They could work on unpacking it together! If you must make it part of his character at least think about why!

Because that belief is wrong, because hylia is literally the one deity we can pretty safely understand is not all seeing, all knowing, all being.

Every time she has a voice, a role, we see her make mistakes or be tricked and have regrets.

Skyward sword, she's literally zelda. She's a young protective warrior goddess (she used a sword and lead armies to battle against demise) who was created by the Three to guard the triforce and keep watch over hyrules lands. By the time ss starts she's already made several tough calls, not limited to yoinking hylians into the sky. When she was zelda she hated every second of leading Link around and even then!! It all hinged on him being completely willing! He was never forced to do anything, she didn't even have her memories with the plan until after she'd fallen to the surface! Their relationship was entirely genuine and she very nearly overestimated her own willingness to go through with the plan! And even then she still managed to get kidnapped lmao. That's not what happens when you're in charge of fate.

And in botw and totk - she's in her full divine form, her full divine powers, she's ancient and magic and worshipped in every corner of the kingdom. And (spoilers!) she loses contact with one of her own mf statues. Not just any ten apples high chibi statue you see in the towns, no, it's The Big One. She's got no idea what happened to it, but she's (rightfully) worried, and asks Link to check it out. And in an entirely separate instance, her OTHER big statue in the ToT gets overridden!! By a triangle head! And ol creep in the deep is the one who releases the statue! It's been what 20k years of power and worship - if she's not all powerful then she never will be.

Hyrule - every hyrule - is very, very polytheistic. She's not even a goddess of time to be in charge of stuff like that! There's multiple of them: Naryu, Cia (and Lana), Farosh to an extent, and many artifacts that can cause time travel, like the harp of ages, the ocarina, the big portal in ss, those time shift stones in the same game, the statue in wind waker. Please stop treating her like the magic elf equivalent of Monotheistic American Christianity God.

She was introduced in skyward sword. The game that came out before botw. She did not exist in any of the games that came before that. There was a lake hylia! In the kingdom hyrule! That's it! Her name or even existence wasn't even hinted at before that. It's actually canonically pretty unlikely any of the chain (cough cough legend) have even heard of her! And her assigned job is protector of the triforce. That's it. And she can't even use the thing. She can very explicitly as a main driving force of the ss plot not use the triforce she protects. And the triforce, shockingly, is not even in every game.

Cases that hylia often gets the most flack for (links awakening and all the trauma from that, Link failing in botw, the events of totk) hylia has absolutely zero part in. Hilariously. And she has zero power over wishes made to the triforce or who makes those wishes or what the triforce does about it.

She even gets all the blame for the cycle of the hero, the reincarnation! Which? We know exactly how that happened. Blaming her for a curse she herself is a victim to?? Demise, in skyward sword, explicitly, on screen, doing it ON PURPOSE, cursing the spirit of the hero and the blood of the goddess.

Hylia, I don't know if you've noticed, also has her own blood. Whether or not she lost that blood upon return to her divine form, she still couldn't break the curse. Link, spirit now tied to whatever demise had cooking up, is basically to reincarnate in time for whenever the Interesting Times happen. And it's demise's fault, who, again, did it on screen, on purpose, explicitly, pointing at the camera with text bolded and everything.

So why do people even blame her? I think it comes down to this:

Her name matches the kingdom. Whatever her connection to the people with the same name, I don't know, but she did found the surface kingdom as a mortal. Being named zelda at the time I wonder who chose the name XD!

Her worship in botk as a high ranking deity. Again, not monotheistic, there's temples to the Three and there's Malanya and Satori and the great fairies and the yiga worship ganon, but hylia is the most widespread for all she's basically a side character working for the new heart piece situation. Again, this is only the case in ss/botk, she doesn't appear in even aoc.

A misguided belief spread in fanfiction that in linked universe, hylia is the one opening and controlling the portals. To my knowledge, lu canon is that the portals are opened by dark link, or at least that's the working theory. I think it's assumed that hylia is the one who gathered the heroes together to combat it? If that's true? Congratulations! We have one (very plot necessary) act of hers in a fan comic. That is not canon to The Legend Of Zelda series.

An american Christian (I hesitate to say evangelican?) cultural understanding of religion. The differences between polytheism and monotheism. How one might feel if the divine was proven real on earth. Zelda is a Japanese property, it is not a Christian country. Though it draws aesthetic inspiration from western medieval fantasy it is not and never will be culturally western. The majority of ao3/tumblr users are American or at least English speaking, and that will always affect interpretation. It's giving 'be thankful to God no matter what for he always has a plan. Trust in him and your suffering will be rewarded' which is not a universal religious belief.

Something I've noticed to be surprisingly common in fandom, is where a mentor or figure of authority who is anything less than perfect or all forgiving can very quickly have their reputation ripped to shreds by the fandom. And then newer authors come, read those works, internalise that about the characters and produce new works that assume that character's cruelty to be par for the course. I will not be listing those characters or fandoms for a variety of reasons lol. But it is amazingly common and very hard to untangle, especially in larger fandoms. It's character bashing in a way near identical to cancelling people irl. It's not 'giving them depth' or 'making it more realistic' (grittier equalling realism is an ice cold take proliferated by dudebro comic authors and wrong besides.) Have some critical thinking.

Lately, I've also been running into a great many fics (not so much comics) that make hylia do some fairly heinous stuff... And then unironically blame her for it. They do remember they're the ones deciding what the characters do, right? She's not an abusive master playing with her puppets until they break, she's quite the opposite! Use the right tags (dark hylia/ooc characters/character bashing/author made them do it, idk) or dial it back. This is a growing percentage of fics and I'll never restrict content but yanno, if you're going to make hylia evil or manipulative at least understand it's a canon deviation (and do something interesting with it, I once read an amazing botw fic with evil hylia and fierce deity!).

TLDR, To summarise, hylia is canonically incapable both emotionally and physically of doing the majority of things characters in fics blame her for. Stop using her as a scapegoat especially when demise is right there. Please give your whumpees deeper characterisation than hating on hylia. Please give legend deeper characterisation than hating on hylia every time he or someone else is sad. Please remember wild can talk to hylia if he wants. Please double check anything you're not sure about :D!

[lufyuu]

,, Tied Up Prince ''

Psychotic villain x Isekai'd second prince male reader

Tw/s: bondage, stockholm syndrome-ish, reader is into how the villain puts him in his place, dub-con, ripping clothes, degration, angry sex, punished reader, yandere-like oc, agressive sex.

The original post

The sound of blades clashing is loud. Ear deafening even. The sound continues for what feels like a century to the young man. When it finally stops, he lets out a frustrated sigh. Not being able to guess what will happen next.

The masked man refuses to fall down on his knees. Instead, he limps a bit while looking up at the sword wielding main character, his sword casted aside. His long messy hair covers even more of his features due to the fact his mask has sustained some damage and yet he still finds a way to taunt the other. “你真的觉得这样就结束了吗？” , letting out a chuckle. With only a few seconds left in the episode, the viewer watches in anticipation, wondering what will happen. The semi masked man limps towards the other and out of nowhere, throws needles towards the main character. As he passes out, so do the end credits.

"WHAT!??? IT CAN'T END LIKE THIS???", you freak out over the cliffhanger ending, urgently scrolling to see if it's ongoing or if there are more episodes— unfortunately, it's neither. You feel as if you're about to metaphorically cry due to frustration. Nobody warned you there'd be a huge cliffhanger after 50 episodes! "God damnit!", you yell at nobody in particular while trying to do more research. Maybe if you look hard enough, the 51st episode will appear...right?

Even after 2 hours, you refuse to give up. You've wasted almost 3 whole days to watch this stupid series, it can't just end like that. You even go through some tiktok comments and edits too find any clues to an episode 51. Though, it's odd that nobody cares to mention the fact that there's a huge cliffhanger on the last episode. Everyone seems to be okay with it? That can't be right. Either everyone's crazy or you're going crazy.

"AHA!", you finally find a "clue" of some sort in the official website. It states that although the series does end on episode 50, it's based off of a novel which is completed. Without a second thought, you search it up only to find that the novel name is...your name? It clearly says [Name] [L. Name] as the title. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. You mindlessly click on the link.

“我们终将相遇，灵魂伴侣。”

.ᐟ.ᐟ

'My head's killing me...', when you open your eyes, you're faced with a ceiling. It wouldn't be odd if it weren't for the fact that it's not your ceiling. "What the...", you instantly sit up on the bed to look around. Not only is the ceiling not the one you usually wake up to, the entire room isnt even yours. You scramble to get on your feet, almost sprinting towards the door. When you are about to open it, it opens from the other side. "Ah!", the short, well dressed girl lets out a shocked noise, "your highness, you're up early", she regains her composure and sesms to be waiting for something. You stay quiet for a few seconds which prompts her to try and break the silence, "may I come in..?", to which you take a step to the right, allowing her to enter the spacious bedroom and put down a tray with food. Before she exits, she opens the windows for you to which you thank her for as she walks out the room, leaving you all alone once more.

"Gosh it's bright out", you walk over to the now opened window and look out. The scent of nature lingers on your nose, it calms your panicked mind in just a few seconds. The birds chirping, the leaves rustling, the sun shining brightly. Far different from the traffic jam and loud vehicles you'd normally hear. This gives you enough time to think about the situation in a calm and rational manner. 'Your highness?', is what you think of, along with the fact that the room and environment is vastly different from the messy, dark room you would usually wake up to. Questioning yourself only led to even more questions and so, you turn to look at the plate that has been served to you. Two steamed buns and a few fruits for nutrients.

"Alright let's see what I can find!", you have some optimism in you as you begin your "investigation". The courtyard is ridiculously big and so are the halls. You alnost got lost halfway in! Deciding it's time for a little break, you sit down on a nearby pavilion. "I've been here for almost an hour, am I just dreaming..", you pinch yourself a few times but end up with a red cheek and still no answers. "Ow...", you sigh, nothing has given you any answers.

"What's gotten you so stressed?", a voice rings out behind you, prompting you to turn around just enough to get a glance. A good-looking and well built man stands behind with a small smile on his face. He takes a few steps forward and sits next to you, "I don't think I've ever heard you sigh that loudly before", he tries to lighten up the mood seeing how blue you look right now. "Well...", realizing something, you do a double take, "Zhou Jian!?", you jump up in disbelief to which he responds with a very shocked face, "yes..?", he looks worried for your well, "was I really gone that long?", he chuckles and scratches his head, "I could have sworn it was just a month", you could only stand frozen in time, jaw almost wide open but you manage to keep it closed. "C'mon, sit down, tell 哥哥 what's on your mind", he smiles with his eyes closed, patting the seat next to him. You slowly sit down while staring bullets into him. "Are you mad at me?", he asks with a worried expression, you turn away, realizing your stare was bothering him. "Ahem no, of course not", in all honesty, you're trying your best to act like a younger sibling and it sure it hard when your older brother is THE Zhou Jian.

He had previously heard of your dissatisfaction with how he is almost always away from home so it wasn't unreasonable for him to think that way. "Hm, then?", he asks, tilting his head and moving closer to you. You don't even know what you want...maybe just a bit of help 'recalling' who you are. Of course you can't just say you lost your memories or something like that, it'd worry Zhou Jian.

What to do...you have to continue exploring this strange world but also can't risk alerting Zhou Jian...That's it!

"I think I just need a stroll out", you look at him. He tenses up and his eyebrows begin furrow. "You know that's not a good idea", he shakes his head, shit you just fucked up..how were you supoosed to know you're not allowed out?? "Please? There's something I need to do", you try to plead, "and I won't be out an hour", but no matter how you persist, he doesn't waver. "弟弟, if it truly is important, I'll send someone to do whatever it is for you", he offers an alternative but that doesn't work for you. There is no way to convince him so you think of another idea. You close your eyes for a moment and nod, "it's okay, I changed my mind", giving a half smile.

"Oh...they're so tall..", you look at the walls you planned to climb to get out. You never learned how to climb a rope either so that's out of the question. Maybe your secret get out plan won't be happening afterall.

'Think [Name], think!'

You pace around, trying to think of another plan. Those cliche romance shows lied to you! You can't possibly climb a tall building. While pacing around, you can't help but feel as if you're forgetting something but what? You try your best to recall the whole series, the plot, what happened and what started it.

"Zhou Jian has to defend his kingdom against the villain due to the fact that...", you talk to yourself, trying to regain memory of the show, "the villain seeks out the Kingdom's rumoured hidden temple in order to seize...", as if everything's connected, you remember the most important thing, "..the power within!", your fist gently hits your palm, and your eyes widen with excitement. "That means I probably have powers like that too!", you almost let out a happy noise but remembering that you are most likely going to be spotted faster if you do, you contain yourself. "How to activate it..", you try to think of jumping over the wall, maybe gracefully flying over to the other side but nothing happens. "They make it look so effortless in the shows", you start to wonder if there's really not a single system window to guide you.

"Your highness! It's time for your tea", a maid is clearly looking for you, shouting loudly as she searches for you everywhere. "Oh shit!", you'll get found out in no time if you don't escape now! A sudden wave of panic sends your body suddenly flying over the 40ft tall cement wall. "W-wAoHH", You brace for impact but fortunately for you, your body doesn't hit the ground roughly, infact, your fall is cushioned by an invisible object. You need time to process what just happened but the guards right around the corner says otherwise. Without missing another second, your legs sprint towards the town in hopes of not getting caught red handed. 'It seems my magic is unstable..is it because I'm not from here or is it just my new body that's weak..?'

You huff and huff due to how fast you just ran from the imperial palace to the bustling streets. After a while, you pull yourself together and look around, finally noticing the amazing scent of the street food being sold. "Excuse me", a little girl says, trying to get past you as you're blocking the middle, "sorry!", you instantly move to the side to let her get past. "Now, where to start", your eyes dart around, a mom and daughter sharing a tanghulu, a couple enjoying their stroll together and even a homeless looking man being given a baozi to eat. Looking at everything up close in person gives a different feeling than when you're watching behind a screen. Despite being here, you still have little to no clue as to who you are in this world and what your purpose is. All you know if that you're the brother of the protagonist. In the original show, there were no mentions of the protagonist ever having a younger brother so people assumed he's an only child. The only heir to the thrown, who knew there would be a spare?

Well you can't dwell on that too much, you have to at least find out what arc you're in right now. Maybe by knowing, you'd be able to assist the protagonist in fighting! Technically you're the main character now that you've isekai'd into the world so there's no way you'd be in any sort of danger!

You turn your attention to your right, the neverending displays of food makes your mouth water. Unfortunately, due to you not paying much attention to where you're walking, you bump into someone. The impact was enough to send you stumbling backwards. The stranger's hand instinctively wraps around your waist, preventing you from falling onto the people behind you and potentially creating a domino effect. His taller stature surprises you. Only when you stabilize yourself, he removes his hand. "Next time, be more aware of your surroundings", his voice is somewhat elegant yet intimidating and indifferent. You can't really diciphere him as his face is covered by a very oddly terrifying mask. It definitely stands out which makes you wonder if he does like the attention if brings him or simply he's unaware of his unique accessory. Though, before you can ask anything, he walks in past you, dissapearing into the crowd. Something about him seemed...very familiar.

After several hours of strolling and finding absolutely nothing, you notice the sun going down, dusk is coming and the night is about to settle in. So, you decide to get back to the palace the same way you got out of it, panicking and then being thrown over the wall.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Nobody seemed to have questioned why you were gone for half the day. Fortunate for you of course but does beg the question why nobody noticed a prince going missing.

In the morning, however, the same maid who had been calling out to you for tea did question where you were. "I wasn't feeling tea", was your simple yet effective answer.

"Gosh I was out for so long and yet found nothing in return", you kick a rock in the courtyard while sighing loudly. The masked man already erased from your mind. What's even worse is that with your hair this long, it takes more effort to take care of it, not to mention the hanfu which made you stand out like a sore thumb. At just a glance, one could tell you're royalty due to your attire. Maybe you should have thought of that before going out yesterday. This time, you'll dress up just like any other commoner there. There must be at least one that doesn't look like a prince's daily outfit in the closet. You look through the ginormous closet, sorting them out one by one until you finally stumble across an acceptable one.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Back to the bustling streets once more. The smell of food is still as amazing as you remember it. You seem to have forgotten something but fret not, your stomach is here to remind you of it. "I forgot...I didn't have breakfast..", you vaguely remember the picture of a plate filled with food on the table of your room. Well you can't turn back now, you're too far in. "I'll just buy something in the market", you say to yourself, walking towards the nearest food stall which sells roasted meat on sticks. The sight is already mouth watering, you can't wait to sink your teeth into it. "老板! One roasted meat please", you grin ear to ear knowing you'd have one in your hands in a few seconds, "that'll be 3 coins", did you even bring any money? You desperately try to search your hanfu for any signs of coins but to no avail. "C-can I have it...for free?", you awkwardly ask, "hah? Who do you think you are, just so you know, have to feed my family too."

'Time to pull out my status' you thought to yourself, "well, I'm—", "I'll pay for it", a hand behind you gives a few coins to the seller, prompting the seller to give the roasted meat to you. You look behind to see who had stolen your spotlight only to be face to face with yet another mask. The same mask actually. "Thank you but I could handle it by myself", you give a slight smile, "oh? It seems to me you had no money, or perhaps you'd like to pay me back?", you can tell he's a bit annoyed but what you can't tell is that he's amused. "In that case, I take it back", getting a sudden eerie feeling from the man, you leave immediately and he watches you run off.

You run until you're sure he wouldn't be able to see you anymore. "Jeez what even was that..", you wonder to yourself, why did your guts just tell you to run?? That's odd. Really though, something about that man is super familiar but what?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

6 months have passed since you've been transmigrated to this world. Fortunately, you adapted quite a long time ago. The strange masked man hasn't been seen at all and because of that, you forgot all about him. The past few months have been relatively peaceful, with some royal guards getting occasional injuries from the amount of fights they've been in. Thankfully, Zhou Jian isn't one of them. You had a hard time accepting that your life in the original world might never return but hey, at least you're treated like royalty. The only downside is that you still aren't allowed outside. A huge bummer.

You enjoy some afternoon tea with Zhou Jian as bonding time for the two of you. "I'm surprised you haven't been sent to the battlefield yet", you jokingly comment, earning you a playful glare from the protagonist, "don't jinx it", he puts his porcelain teacup down, "though, it is strange that the scoundrel hasn't shown up in a while", he's referring to his enemy, the man who has been trying to get rid of your kingdom so they say it. "He's so mysterious too, no matter how many men I send to discover more about him, it's as if he doesn't exist at all but at the same time, he does", Zhou Jian says, looking up and wondering to himself, confused. "One day when you do catch him maybe you'll find out who he truly is", you sip on the hot fragrant tea. The two of you chat for a while before a guard interrupts it.

"Your highness! It's an emergency! The King himself has personally requested you on the battlefield to fight alongside him, it seems the enemies have gotten stronger", the voice is panicked, shaky, stumbling over his own words and trying his hardest to keep his composure but ultimately failing, miserably. Zhou Jian immediately gets up, grabbing the weapon he always carries by his side and rushing out with the guard, "I'm going to be back soon", he glances at you while he says this. Without anyone to chat with, you get up from your seat and head towards the library. Behind you, the servants bow as they take the cups and desserts away.

Even when night falls, neither the king nor Zhou Jian has returned. It's quite common for soldiers to camp out for a few days so you don't worry too much about it.

The hallways are oddly quiet. Probably since there are less guards and servants surrounding the place seeing as a few went to tend to the King and heir. More peace and quiet for you. The stars at night twinkle, the moon glowing so brightly, the sound of crickets. Not even the cold air bothers you. You yawn a bit, "time for bed", your legs carry you to the bed, not as comfortable as the one you had back at home but you can still sleep on it. You tuck yourself into bed and close your eyes, wondering what you'll have for brekafast tomorrow.

At the stroke of midnight, the sounds of blood gushing doesn't even wake you up. No scream can be heard due to the intruder's silencing them. "PROTECT THE SECOND PRI—", the loud voice cuts off, indicating the murder of the man. The imperial palace is a mess, filled with fresh blood and dead bodies. You sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of the massacre happening just outside your room. Even the door creaking open doesn't wake you up from your deep slumber. A tall man hovers over you, a crown in his hand. He mumbles something but it's so quite that not even a soul can hear it. With a snap of his fingers, your hands and ankles are bound together respectively without you ever even noticing it.

"你真是个可爱的睡美人"

.ᐟ.ᐟ

Your eyes are half open, your vision all blurry due to just waking up. Your whole body aches but when you go to stretch, you find it to not be possible. You struggle and notice your hands and ankles bound by something that's glowing red. It hurts whenever you try to get rid of it. "Go on, the sight of you struggling amuses me", a voice says out loud from a corner of the room. The masked man gets up from his seat and as he walks closer to where you are bound, you notice that his mask is slightly damaged. Well, a part of it has broken off, revealing his blood colored eye.

He carries himself with such elegance that you'd think he's royalty at a first glance. He brings himself down to your level, his eye crinkle softly at the corner, the look on your face is just so adorable. "I never would have thought we'd meet again, 小王子", he grabs your chin, lifting it up so you two make eye contact. "I had an inkling you were apart of their little kingdom, I just didn't expect you to be so naive", he continues while looking at your frustrated face which he adores, "did you really think those pesky little servants could ever protect you?", you turn your head to the side, not wanting to even touch him. It is honestly a bit embarrassing for you as you've watched this whole series, know the plot and yet here you are, kidnapped by the villain himself of whom you finally remember the name of, Xu RenFeng, and not even getting the chance to put up a fight.

Xu RenFeng thinks for a moment, the silence deafening. "How about this, you and I become partners so to say", you're confused by what he's suggesting but he elaborates, "since you're hidden and have no purpose in that palace, you could be with me could you not?", he looks at you expectantly with a psychotic look in his eye. "I would kill you now but you're way too adorable to be killed just like that, I'm offering a role of a lifetime", while it does tempt you in a way, you're still not too sure about dying with him at the end. "No thank you", you don't even look at him as you say this, "I'll give you some more time to think", he stands tall and turns around, walking out the door to your prison.

To say it's a prison is exaggerating. At least it looks like an average bedroom. Not as luxurious as the one you had before but still comfortable. After a few seconds pass, you find your hands and ankles no longer bounded, giving you some freedom to explore the room you've been captured in.

Of course the surviving servants and royal guards had to inform their king and future king what had happened. From the massacre of many, many servants to the second prince going missing, presumably taken by their enemy. "We should've known it was a trap the moment he left", the King is referring to the man himself, Xu RenFeng. "Why would he want [Name]?", Zhou Jian questions, frustrated by how the situation has gone from manageable to a complete mess. His hands balled into fists, worrying for his brother's safety. They have to find you, and fast.

Meanwhile, you've been held in the room for about 5 hours. All you've been up to is trying to think of a plan to maybe just maybe, trick him long enough for the psychotic guy to let you go. From what you've seen in the show itself, he is a very calm and calculating individual, making it hard for anyone to get past him. "Gosh, it seems that the only way to get out is by relying on brute force!", compated to modern times, the door isn't made out of very strong material, maybe you can knock it down or something. When you body slam the door, it doesn't move an inch. "Well that goes my plan", you just sit against the door you had just tried to body slam in defeat.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

As days passed, you try a different method of breaking out each day but they all fail in getting you out the the prison-like room. The only time the door would open was when Xu RenFeng himself would bring you food and place it on the table in the room. Even then, when the door opened, you would be bound once more. At least the food was always good. Each time he brought food to you, he'd try to persuade you into joining him. Something about you really did pull him in. You had power over him whether you knew or not.

One day, when there's a knock on the door, you get an idea. Xu RenFeng enters the room in silence, holding a plate in one hand. He puts the food down and as he's about to open his mouth, "can you eat with me?", you ask, surprising him. Today he's wearing a different style of mask. It doesn't cover his lower face, only the eyes. You wonder why he covers his face and remain mysterious. Even towards the end of his life, he never once took off his mask. The reason was never revealed. Though, it did add to his charm which is why a lot of people fell for the guy. He hesitates but gives a slight nod, closing the door with a wave of his hand.

He takes the seat across from you, not having anything on his side of the table. "Oh, I thought you'd grab your own food?", you ask while munching down on the prepared food. "No, I'd rather enjoy the view while I can", his lips turn into a smirk. Unsettling but not the weirdest thing he's said while with you. You get a bit nervous, wanting to pull off the plan but what if he notices beforehand? 'Agh, no more overthinking it, it's now or never [Name]!', you think to yourself and reach over the table, violently tearing the mask off his face, taking him by complete surprise. With great strength and agility, he grabs ahold of your wrist which has his mask. You stare at his face. He wasn't an average looking man. No scars or bruises. Instead, he's the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on. You're left speechless and so is he for a few seconds.

The look of shock in his eyes is replaced with that of anger. Without uttering a single word and with your wrist still held in his hand, he walks over to your side of the table, glaring at you before pulling you to the bed and throwing you on it. Fortunately you aren't hurt, only frightened. You're pinned to the bedframe by the intimidating villain. Your back is against the frame and you have nowhere to run. "I've been painstakingly patient with you and yet here you are taking off my mask. Was it not obvious to you I didn't want it off, EVER?", to say he's angry is an understatement, his eyes are even more psychotic. All you can do is freeze up due to fear, knowing neither fight nor flight are options in this very moment. You can't muster up an apology, both due to fear and also the feeling of superiority, to you, this man is just a character, he'll be no longer once you find a way back to your home! Without an answer, he takes it as you not wanting to apologize. "Do you really think just because you're a prince that I can't hurt you?", he chuckles at your pathetic expression. With another snap of his fingers, you're bound once more.

As much as you'd like to deny it, the way he's aggressively holding you is really turning you on. Xu RenFeng grabs at your clothes and rips them, leaving your body vulnerable to the man. "What a sight", he looks at you up and down. You try to cover your face with your hands because of embarrassment but he pushes your hands away. "Oh my prince, don't hide your adorable expressions", he purrs.

When you blink, his hanfu has already been diacarded on the floor not far from the bed. "Won't you help a stressed man out?", with his clothes being gone, you can see his hard cock. You stare at it for a little too long, long enough for Xu RenFeng to notice. "Hm? Lost for words are we?", he seems proud of that. "I..It's..—", you bite your lip to contain the moan you were about to let out as the man lifts your legs up to his shoulder and stretches you out with two fingers. "There's a much easier way for this but I'd rather do the old fashioned way to see how you writhe in pleasure just from my fingers. You close your eyes shut, clenched fists as his fingers move around inside, "I'll stretch you so well that this big cock slips right in", just that alone makes you tighten up, earning a satisfied hum from the other. Before long, he decides it's time to add another finger, stretching you out even more. "Ah..ngh...", your moans aren't really heard, the noises you let out are more comparable to humming. Xu RenFeng doesn't like that one bit.

His take his wet fingers out of your tight hole, leaving you feeling empty and opening your eyes as to why he did that. Relying on his strength, he pulls you onto his lap, your hole hovering over his cock, almost touching the tip. "Hu–aggh", you barely have time to react before he plunges you down all the way. You let out the loudest moan that Xu RenFeng's servants are able to hear from outside the magic-sealed room. "What an amazing voice you have, 小王子", he looks up at the person who is unable to speak due to the pain and pleasure he has brought them. His cock remains inside your hole without moving an inch, "a-are you trying to tease me...move", you try to stimulate yourself by bouncing on his cock to the best of your abilities but you can't seem to do that due to him having a tight grip on your waist. "You're so fragile, I'll have an easier time breaking you", he lifts you up until the only thing left inside is his tip and immediately slams you back down on his large cock, repeating this over and over again. "Fuck..", he groans while you're almost screaming-moaning. You never imagined this would be how your first time would go. Xu RenFeng pounds your ass so rough and fast that your ass is turning red.

You feel his precum inside you as he hits your prostate over and over, showing no mercy. "Your hole was made for my cock, wasn't it?", you can't even come uo with a response in that cock filled head of yous, "I'll make sure you remember the shape of my cock by fucking you everyday", he lets out a deep laugh, watching you bounce up and down his cock. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he goes deeper until you can't think of anything anymore. You cum while moaning loudly, still being bounced up and down. The stimulation is driving you crazy, everything feels like a fever dream. Not long after you came and without warning, he cums inside while still pounding you, not stopping for a second. He's cumming as he's thrusting inside, giving a new sensation you never thought you'd feel. "I see you're enjoying this more than I am, how adorable that expression of yours", he points out, "aren't I glad I picked you up along the way", if he could, he would have given himself a pat on the back that moment. You try to push him off, wanting to go at your own pace or to possibly just take a breather, "ah-ah, we're not done", he keeps thrusting deep inside, "don't worry, I'll return you in one piece to your family soon~"

He didn't stop until he had pumped at least a few cups worth of cum inside of you. You passed out due to how rough he was being. Xu RenFeng made sure to tuck you into bed. When he came out the room with his mask back on, he appeared to be very refreshed, some servants even whispered to the others that he was practically glowing. All because of a certain young prince named [Name].

You may not know it yet but you're now stuck with a psycho of a man.

Translation notes!

你真的觉得这样就结束了吗？

Do you really thinks this is over?

老版

Boss (in this context, used to address shopkeepers/vendors you want to buy from)

我们终将相遇，灵魂伴侣。

We will meet eventually, soulmate.

弟弟

Little brother/younger brother

哥哥

Big brother/elder brother

你真是个可爱的睡美人

You really are a cute sleeping beauty

小王子

Little prince (endearing)

I have so many ideas for this man but couldn't fit all of them in one fic🥹

There's this one kink I know you'll love but unfortunately didn't make the cut, maybe next time/drabble!

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

How OP men would react after finding out you have an aggressive stalker || Shanks and King

some maritime terms I used

"This is my fault," you mumble, looking morosely at the charred remains of the ship's cargo and the apron.

"What?" Shanks asked incredulously.

Tears came to your eyes as you confessed that you've had a stalker, Charles, for several years. Charles had forced you into a life of piracy just to escape his unwanted and increasingly violent advances after he burnt your house down.

Shanks felt breathless, he had had no idea that you went through anything so horrid. To him, you had always been so cheery and carefree. "Wait, didn't you say your pet died in a house fire?" He mumbled. You nodded your head, avoiding eye contact with your captain. Rage filled Shanks's chest, not only had this bastard, Charles, burnt the only cargo the crew could afford at the moment, but he had hurt your pet and forced you into a dangerous profession just to escape him. Shanks put his anger aside because he could see you were clearly scared of this man. "What's he look like, Love?" He asked as he tucked a knuckle under your chin and tilted your head to look at him.

After you gave Shanks your stalker's wanted poster, he assigned Benn to stay by your side, just in case your stalker came back. Meanwhile, Shanks and the rest of the crew combed the island for Charles. They eventually found him holed up in a sea cave only a mile south of the harbor, where the crew grouped up and descended upon him. Rockstar and Yassop threw Charles at Shanks's feet while he thrashed and yelled, "Leave me alone, you bastards!"

Shanks leaned down from the rock he was sitting on, grabbed a fistful of the stalker's hair, pulled him up to his face, and quietly growled. "Do you know who I am?"

Charles curled his lip in mock disgust and sneered, "Someone in desperate need of a breath mint." His retort earned him a swift punch to the jaw from Shanks, who reiterated his question. "Do you know who I am?"

"Red Haired Shanks," Charles submitted, going limp on the ground, "An emperor of the sea."

"Uh huh, that's right, and it seems you've been giving my crew mate, and good friend, a hard time." Shanks replied, "And I'm here to put a stop to that."

Charles lunged at Shanks and screamed, "They're mine! Not yours! I will have them even if it's the last thing I do!"

After easily batting away Charles's hand, Shanks hummed, "Is that so?" as he pulled his sword out of its sheath.

Shanks returned later that night with enough Berry to replace the cargo and still have enough left over to give you a month's worth of your usual pay.

It was the Fire festival again, which meant all the Beast pirates, from near and far, flocked to Wano to party at Kaido's place. While most of the crew loved this time, you did not love it, because it meant he'd be there. The Wano's minister of commerce, Yukimaru, was one of Orochi's entourage and your stalker. He always got way too grabby with you for your liking. You thankfully only saw him a few times a year, mostly for work.

"You don't look happy," King noted.

You glanced up at him and grumbled, "You usually don't have a problem with my unhappiness, you delight in it, in fact."

King fiddled with his cuff links and huffed, "I only delight in the unhappiness I cause."

"Good to know," you chuckle.

King crouched down to look you in the eye, and said, "I am concerned because everyone loves the fire festival, even I kind of like it. But you seem too eager to return to your room tonight, which isn't like you because you are normally more excited about parties than I am. Something must be bothering you, so spill it so we can party."

You sighed and told him about your problems with Yukimaru, even confiding in him about how Yukimaru had cornered you and ripped your shirt before last month's finance meeting.

"So the rumors are true, then," King muttered to himself, rubbing his chin and explaining, "I heard a few of the servants talking, one of them claimed Yukimaru was pursuing someone, who was rejecting his advances. Another servant claimed that when Yukimaru heard of this person's whereabouts, he'd always race there to meet them, even if they didn't want to see him. One of them even claimed that Yukimaru has a reputation for violence and coercion in the Red-Light District." He hummed for a moment, before turning to the Mary next to him and ordering her to tell Yukimaru to meet the two of you in his office.

"Why would you do that? I just told you I didn't want to see him!" You snap, outraged that he'd tell your stalker where you were.

"Unfortunately I can't kill him based on your word alone, so I'm setting a trap, now wait while I hide in the closet. When he comes and misbehaves, I'll stab him." King clarified, before tucking his wings behind him as he wedged himself into the wardrobe behind his desk.

Shortly after, you heard Yukimaru thundering down the hallway. Each footstep filled you with dread because the man terrified you. A moment later, the door slid open and Yukimaru self stepped inside. Yukimaru was a head shorter than King, and a great deal taller than you. He gave you a toothy grin, and said, "There you are, I've been looking for you. The Mary said King was here." Sauntering towards you, his sharp eyes devoured you.

"... He stepped out for a minute." You replied, trying to resist the urge to run for the door as Yukimaru plopped down on the couch beside you. Your will remained strong until he put his arm over your shoulders, without thinking you bolted for the door, only to be pinned down to the floor by the large man. "Where do you think you're going? I just got here, why don't we play together while we wait for your boss to come back?" Yukimaru trailed his fingertips along your shirt for a brief moment before his body was ripped away from yours with a swift kick from King. He pointed his sword at Yukimaru's chest and said, "Go enjoy your party while I deal with this trash."

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Next chapter incoming

I didn't except it this soon, either.

It's still writing itself and dear GODS I hope this momentum continues.

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch.8 of who even fcking knows like maybe ten-ish...? First Chapter Link for newcomers, will update with other chapter links soon

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. You're his prisoner now, and you have no real hope left that you can see aside from his acceptance of the Warlord proposal.

We're venturing into NSFW territory in this chapter. So Warnings for that, and continued Yandere stuff.

Wordcount: 3588

Taglist: @i-am-vita, @browneyedhufflepuff, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @littleleelee, @nerium-lil, @dragon-bubs , @animefreak818 , @byysandra , @lufemia , @gizamalblythe, @lufemia @schanwow

You guys are all amazing tysm!!!!!

The first time you had awoken in the castle on Kuraigana Island, you had jumped so badly you had very nearly reverted straight out of your devil fruit form—and that in itself would have marked the end of your mission before it had even truly begun, given you had fallen asleep perched on Mihawk’s shoulder.

You jolted awake just as violently this time, and the first thing your gaze fixed upon was his sharp yellow eyes. You did panic for a moment, attempting to shift back into the avian form you had grown so accustomed to over the past two months, before remembering exactly where you were—lying across the cold stone floor of the dungeons.

Exactly how you had come to be here—by making the mistake of sneaking about in the middle of the night to call Bogard and inform him that you had no choice but to shift to plan B and propose the offer of Warlord status to your target.

Your target, who was seated in a chair in your damp, dark dungeon cell, staring down at you with a speculative frown.

“Awake at last.”

You winced as you strained against the floor to pull yourself up into a sitting position, too groggy for a moment to register why you were having such a difficult time, until the seastone shackles around your ankles clinked and rattled with your movements. Right. He had made completely sure that you wouldn’t be capable of escaping.

“You chose a particularly inopportune moment to faint earlier,” he commented, crossing his arms. “We were discussing this Warlord offer your superiors are considering presenting me with.”

You only vaguely recalled bringing it up—it must have been in the moments just before you lost consciousness. It was clear he had left you alone at some point during your slumber. He now had his open trench coat draped around his shoulders, his sword leaning against the corner of the cell. He traced your line of sight over to it and gave a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry yourself, dear. I simply prefer having my blade close. Though I’m sure you know that. You know a great deal more about me than I do you, after all. But I’m sure,” he went on, standing from the chair. You pressed your back against the wall as he approached you slowly, the toes of his boots coming to stop mere inches from your bare feet as he looked down at you, “that will come to change in time.”

He held his hand down toward you. You stared at it for a moment, before slowly lifting your hand, your breath catching as he took it in his with an almost gentle grip, this thumb tracing across your knuckles for a moment.

“You don’t have a fighter’s hands,” he said, turning your hand over, his much larger, rougher fingers tracing across your smooth palm. “Have you trained in anything aside from subterfuge?”

“Basic combat,” you said. “I’m best with throwing weapons and small blades.”

“Ideal for your stature and talent in stealth operations,” he commented.

He gave a small, thoughtful hum—then wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you to your feet, grabbing you by your hip before you could stumble straight into him. He turned with you and moved a hand to your shoulder, pushing you down into the chair he had just vacated himself.

“And, purely out of curiosity, what of your knowledge in birds?” he asked, pacing around the side of the chair slowly. “I can’t imagine you learned any of that from your Marine comrades.”

You shook your head, swallowing as his shadow fell over you from behind, glancing over at his hand resting against the back of the chair. “M...my mom,” you said quietly, your stomach churning at the sudden thought that you would probably never see her again. “She’s an ornithologist. Specializing in parrots and corvids. She runs a rescue service for them. I learned everything from her.”

“And yet you chose to join the Marines?” he said, amused. “Perhaps your father’s influence?” You gave a short nod. “Of course. Could have stayed at home on the farm, safe and sound, and yet...here you are. But I suppose it did give you the experience necessary to utilize your devil fruit to its fullest effect. I can see why your superiors chose you for this task. Not many could have pulled it off as well as you did.”

You felt the chair creak behind you as he leaned down against it, sending a cold chill down your spine as he reached up to brush your hair behind your ear, to tilt his head and fix you with an amused smirk as your shoulders grew stiff as stone.

“That was a compliment, little bird,” he said lightly, tracing his index finger slowly down the curve of your neck. “What do we say when someone compliments us?”

“Th—thank you,” you forced out, swallowing. “S-sir.”

“Good girl,” he lilted softly, close to your ear.

You thought you might faint all over again when he briefly pressed his lips to your temple before straightening back out and lightly ruffling your hair. As gentle as his actions seemed, they were laced with a thinly veiled threat—a threat that if you did anything other than what was asked of you, what he expected of you, there would be swift and severe repercussions. He didn’t have to say it for you to know it to be true.

“Are you able to provide me with the full details of this whole Warlord proposal?” he asked, moving around to the other side of the chair. He stopped in front of you, crossing his arms. “Or will you need to contact your superiors?”

“They would know more than I would,” you said quietly—and that wasn’t a lie. You had been given the basic details, but he would need to speak with someone of much higher rank than you to garner any further information. “I—I can call them. They’d likely want to set a meeting if you’re interested—”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” he said. “I’m interested to hear more of what the World Government might consider a mutually beneficial arrangement between pirates and Marines. I haven’t said I’m interested in the offer itself yet. That being said…”

You shifted back in the chair when he knelt down in front of you, reaching into his pocket—but all he pulled out was a small ring of keys. You recognized the Marine insignia etched into the metal ring before he lifted your foot and turned one of the keys in the shackle wrapped around your ankle.

“I am interested to speak to your commanding officers,” he said, lowering your foot back down. He lifted the other, and paused with the key in the lock, his sharp eyes darting up to meet yours. “You will accompany me to the study in the tower below my bedchambers. Should you make any attempt to escape or use your devil fruit ability, I don’t think I have to tell you what will happen.”

You swallowed, nodding quickly in understanding. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Very good. I was fairly sure you’d understand.” You bit your lip as he slipped his hand slowly up the length of your calf, his palm coming to rest against the side of your thigh just above your knee, his eyes remaining on yours as he turned the key and pulled the shackles away from you. You flinched as he lightly squeezed his hand around your thigh, keeping his hand there as he stood and rested his other hand against the back of the chair, hovering over you. “You’ll stand slowly, and you’ll walk in front of me. I don’t think there’s any need for me to hold your hand like a child. You ought to know your way around fairly well by now.”

“Y...yes, sir,” you repeated weakly.

Hundreds of thoughts swam through your head as you lead the way from the ground floor of the old, expansive castle to the eastern tower—whether you would ever see or speak to your mother again, how Garp and Bogard would respond to the news that you were compromised, whether or not you would even live to see the light of the next morning, why Mihawk was being so gentle with you, why you felt a flutter deep in your stomach every time he touched you.

Why, for the entire duration of the walk up to the study, with him even stopping once to allow you to venture alone into a small bathroom to clean yourself up and tend to any other personal needs—why you didn’t once consider the possibility of a potential escape plan.

He expected you to comply—he wouldn’t expect you to shift into your devil fruit form at the nearest window and take flight off into the quickly darkening evening sky.

Yet the thought only crossed your mind once he sat in the armchair behind the desk in the study, the thought of why you hadn’t considered the possibility. Before you could consider it any further, he lifted his hand and motioned for you to come over, leaning forward to pull the den den mushi across the desk toward him.

“You’ll call your superiors,” he said, his gaze not once leaving you as you slowly crossed the room. You nodded, stopping in front of the desk and reaching for the device. “No.” He pulled it further out of your reach, motioning for you again. “Come here.”

You tensed at the sharpening of his tone, and moved around to the opposite side of the desk with a little more urgency, stopping a few feet away from him, your eyes flickering between his yellow irises and the snail.

Closer, when he motioned for you again, stopping at the side of the chair, staring down at your feet as you shifted your weight between them.

You glanced up when he lifted his head again, pointing down at the floor and making a small, tight circular motion. “Turn,” he instructed.

You obeyed immediately, turning around slowly, arms crossed tight across your churning stomach.

“Better. Now…”

Your eyes clenched shut when he wrapped his hand around your wrist, gasping in alarm when he pulled you down, down onto the chair with him, your back against his chest. His hand left your wrist to brush against your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear and your shoulder.

And they shot open again when you felt him lean forward behind you, his broad torso pressed against your back, watching him grab the receiver of the den den mushi.

“Make the call for me, pet,” he said, handing it to you before pulling his arm tight around your waist, holding you against him as he leaned back again. “And keep quiet unless I say otherwise. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You couldn’t speak in anything more than a strained whisper, your face flaring with heat, immediately reaching forward to dial the number at his command and holding the receiver between his ear and your own.

You shut your eyes again when you heard a familiar, gruff voice answer.

“Vice Admiral Garp. If you have this number you know what to do.”

“Vice Admiral Garp,” repeated Mihawk, sincerely surprised. “Garp the Fist. Hero of the Marines. My, my. I suppose I should be honored.” You drew in a sharp breath as his fingers curled lightly, possessively around your waist, as he turned his head and rest his forehead against your temple, his voice soft and warm against your ear. “I had no idea the adorable little pet you sent me was so important.”

You flinched at the sharp static that came through the other line for a moment, as if the old vice admiral had tightened his hand considerably around his own den den mushi.

“Dracule Mihawk,” he growled in response. “Where the hell is she?”

“Safe,” he responded. “Unharmed...relatively. Though I imagine she must be quite frightened, wondering what I plan to do with her.” You nearly whimpered when he reached across, curling a strand of your hair around his index finger. “Quite the gifted little spy. I might never have known what she truly was had I not overheard her conversation two nights ago.”

“Dammit, kid…” you heard Garp grumble under his breath. Then, louder, in a more commanding tone, “You’ve got two options, Hawk-Eye. You can let her go, or I can come get her myself.”

“With an entire armada of Navy vessels in tow, I presume?” he responded, sounding as if the idea bored him. “You’re not really in the position to be making threats, old man. The cadet is unharmed...for now. And really. You send me such a pretty little pet and expect me to sen her right back before I’ve even had any time to enjoy her company?”

You held your breath as his hand drifted down from your waist, his fingers brushing against the top of your thigh just below the hem of the over-sized shirt he had given you to wear.

“Call her your pet again, you sick son of a b—don’t—let go of that—”

“Mmm?” Mihawk hummed quietly, curiously at the sound of the brief scuffle at the other end of the call. You were fairly certain you knew what it meant, and...it was probably better that Garp didn’t handle this. Your suspicions were confirmed a moment later when another voice came through the call, far more curt but just as familiar to you.

“Read Admiral Bogard. My apologies for the vice admiral’s boorish behavior. He doesn’t handle negotiations well when it concerns one of our own. I presume this is a negotiation and you didn’t simply call for the sake of gloating?”

“Your presumption would be correct,” said Mihawk. “Though I admit, it was also to sate my own curisoty. I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of supposed men would send such an innocent, vulnerable young woman on what could easily have turned out to be a suicide mission.” He rested his chin against your shoulder, trailing his dingers slowly back up the length of your thigh, smirking as you pressed your legs together tightly and tiny goosebumps raised across the surface of your skin. “I guess I have my answer.”

“I take it you have no intention of returning her without hostile measures being taken,” said Bogard, ignoring the taunt from the pirate. “I will ask yhat you allow her to speak so I can ascertain for myself that she is, as you claim, unharmed.”

“Oh, but of course,” said Mihawk, his voice low and dripping with mockery, his mouth nearly brushing your ear. “She’s right here, after all. Go on, pet. Speak.”

“I’m not hurt,” you said quietly.

“You’re sure?” You gave a quiet affirmative hum in response to Bogard’s question—and then jumped in alarm when Mihawk jerked the receiver from your hand, only to push it into your oposite hand. You swallowed, keeping your eyes turned down to your lap, to his hand splayed across your stomach. “Am I correct in assuming he’s listening?”

“Y—yes, sir.”

It became immediately clear why he had moved the receiver to your opposite hand, to the opposite side of your head—you pulled in a small, sharp gasp as his mouth touched the shell of your ear.

“H-he can hear me,” you added quietly, clenching your eyes shut as his hand clenched around the thin material of his shirt that covered your stomach and half of your thighs, tugging it a few inches higher. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against the edge of your jaw.

“I wonder,” he murmured, “how long you can keep your composure, pretty bird.” He chuckled lightly at the shiver his voice sent through you—a shiver that, no matter how much you wanted it to be, wasn’t entirely in fear.

“Does he have any intention of harming you that you’re aware of?” asked Bogard. His tone was lighter now, but still kept its usual air of authority

“I—I don’t think so,” you said, fighting to keep your breath level as Mihawk trailed his lips lightly down the length of your neck, lifting his free hand to your jaw, urging you to lie your head back. You obeyed the silent command, your shoulders tensing as the back of your head fell back against his shoulder. “H—he-he wanted more details on the offer. The—the Warlord—”

“I’m sure he does,” said Bogard curtly. “And I’m more than willing to discuss it with him. Our immediate concern at the present is your safety. Are you able to tell us where you are?”

“I…”

“Go ahead, little cadet.” You swallowed at Mihawk’s low, amused murmur against your neck, his words affirming that he could still hear both ends of the conversation. “Tell Mommy and Daddy exactly where you are.” You bit back a whimper as he nipped lightly at your neck, his hand at your chin drifting down the column of your throat, stopping to circle a finger around the top button of your shirt.

“A study in one of the towers in the castle on Kuraigana Island,” you forced out quickly, tour words pressing together as he lifted you by your hip and shifted your position, pressing his knee between your thighs to push them further open.

“Alright. Good.” Bogard’s words sounded more distant to you with every passing second, your focus shifting to Mihawk’s hand slipping open the top button of your shirt. “You sound weak.”

“S-seastone,” you said quietly, fighting to keep the tremor out of your voice as the second button came loose, revealing the top of your plain white bra. You bit your lip, watching him push the shirt open enough to trace his fingers along the edge of the undergarment. “Seastone shackles. So I can’t use my devil fruit ability to escape.”

Even though he had removed the shackles before leading you up here, it was the first explanation that jumped to your mind to account for the low, trembling quality of your voice.

“Seastone. Of course,” Bogard said coolly. “Should have guessed. Wouldn’t have been difficult to salvage from one of the hundreds of our ships he’s destroyed…” He let out a sigh. “Do your best to stay safe. Do not attempt to escape on your own. Is that understood?”

“Mm—mm-hmm,” you hummed, almost whimpered, biting down on your bottom lip as Mihawk tugged the last few buttons of the shirt open, moving his hands to your shoulders to push the material down.

“Off,” he murmured against you jaw. “And you’ll hand the phone back to me.”

“H—he wants to—”

“Then put him back on,” said Bogard.

You quickly shifted the phone back to your other hand, and Mihawk plucked it away, holding it out at arm’s length as he briefly leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth as he commanded once more, “Off, pretty girl. Let me see you. I won’t ask again.” He pulled the receiver to his ear as you complied, trembling as you slowly shrugged the material away from your shoulders, pulling it free from your arms. “Bogard, was it?” you heard him say. “Oh, yes. I am very interested to hear more of how your people think any pirate might be inclined to consider becoming a government lapdog.”

He tugged you back against him again the moment you were free of the shirt, his fingertips tracing leisurely circles over the plane of your stomach.

Drifting higher and higher, playing against the edge of your ribs.

Slipping just beneath the lower edge of your bra, his lips curling into a smirk at the way you tensed against him, in some mix of anxiety and anticipation, growing less and less able to differentiate between the two.

Clenching your eyes shut and biting your tongue against a small whimper as he pushed his hand higher, cupping the swell of your breast in his palm, squeezing his fingers lightly around the pliable flesh.

You could hear his voice as the conversation dragged on, his tone as curt and professional as Bogard’s, but you could scarcely make out a single detail of his words with his rough hand brushing across your breasts, occasionally rolling around the sensitive points of your nipples, forced to use every ounce of your will to keep yourself silent—to pull your own hand up to cover your mouth and muffle a small cry when he lightly pinched one of the sensitive protrusions near the end of the conversation.

“Well, that’s all very intriguing,” he said with a light chuckle as he pulled you tighter against him. “I’ll have to take a bit of time to consider such a tempting proposal. I think...oh, forty-eight hours? Well, if that’s acceptable for you, then it’s more than acceptable for me.” You tensed as he shifted his hand beneath your bra, whimpering as he pinched your nipple a bit harder. “Ten o’clock, two days from now. Perfect. And be sure to inform your vice admiral that I’ll take very good care of our little cadet in the meantime. Oh, of course. No harm at all.”

He lowered his head, continuing in a murmur against your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

“She might not even want to return to your command once I’m through with her.”

[dhampling]

one fem!reader, 2k

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?”

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

-

astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that's it. that's the plot.

word count: 2,028

an: fluff, fluff n more fluff. no smut this time. soon. promise. parts ONE and TWO linked respectively but can be read alone.

-

“She’s asleep, Astarion!” 

You are wide eyed, furious; speaking in a whispered shout at your husband.

His pale hands flit across the ties of your shirt, frisking every which way they turn. You slap them off like flies on fruit.

“Even more reason to take advantage of the situation, if you ask me.” He murmurs hungrily in your ear, hands now circling down to your waist to tug on your waistband.

“It’s a fine job I didn’t ask you then!” Gritted teeth. Eyes aflame. Cornered against the dresser.

The crib beside your bed holds your infant daughter - skittish and fresh to a world wholly unknown in every sense of the word. She rests rarely and wails often for company in these early months of being alive with you both. Pallid and red-eyed yet beautiful beyond comparison and entirely yours. 

Seeing you together brings him joy unparalleled. 

He has, genuinely; never been prouder of anything of his doing - saving the Sword Coast is a drop in the ocean that is completely and utterly awash with love for your youngling. The mistaken mess of his own bastard elven vampiric genetics now born unto another. This time it would be right. The hunger, the rot; the abuse and neglect, they were hundreds of miles away.

He would make it right. 

But it was already so. She was here, and you all cried together in that dark, sweaty birth chamber. His great guttural sob at her birth, wracked with emotion he never knew he could possibly be permitted to feel on this immortal coil. Your genuinely feral howls of pain turned weeping with pure joy.

Two full days of agony unlike any you’ve ever endured and she had arrived, breathing; wailing; skin of a changeling in birthing viscera and lungs keen to rival any bellow of the Gods.

Astarion weakly clinging to you both; tears salting your lips and wetting her tiny head for hours on end. 

The great weight of another being on your shoulders. His sincere - yet cliche - fervently whispered oath to her just moments after being placed in his arms.

She is home. She is loved beyond any unit of measure. She will want for nothing, and she will never know anguish like that of her parents and their complex lives. No matter who she is or what she becomes, she has two people who are in her corner. She will be fierce if she so desires. Cunning. Witty. Roguish. Barbaric. Horrid. 

It didn’t matter. It never would. 

She was yours, and his; and she would always have a choice.

He had spoken with her for hours, the nurse whispered to inform you once you had awoken from the deepest slumber of your life. Even then when you looked he was hanging over her small form in her cot, running his lithe fingers over her tiny hands and feet in a repetitive soothing pattern. 

When you queried the topic of conversation he simply looked at you with a grin so lovesick it would flip your stomach completely. Butterflies.

-

“We deserve a bit of fun though, darling. Mummy and Daddy’s evening off? No?” 

Astarion pouts, wrapping his arms around you - still pinned against the dresser - and inhaling your scent deeply. 

You return the gesture and cough reactively.

“You stink of Noblestalk. I know your tricks.”

You playfully shove him away and tiptoe from your room to the landing, the pale elf hot on your heels.

“I have never stunk in my life, thank you.” He sulks. 

You pointedly stop to look at him, before picking up a basket of waiting laundry and descending the stairs. He follows.

“I’m trying to fuck you, dear. Don’t make it weird.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. 

You hum. 

“Corpses tend to smell awful.” 

“Warning.”

“You started it.”

“Touché.”

A beat of silence.

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?” 

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

“You’re getting rusty.”

He captures you in a kiss as you reach the bottom of the stairs, slow and patient. Holding your free arm to keep you close. 

“Look at me. I’m the epitome of the fatherly jester!’

Waggles his free hand.

‘I have been blessed with brains and humour anew by the birth of our daughter, clearly.’

He grimaces.

‘Not necessarily superior versions of either, but I - am - changed.” 

From the moment of her conception you’d felt it. An old wives’ tale. The night you’d agreed to mother a brood alongside him, you knew she was there. That she was her. That she was brewing as something brilliant deep inside you and nothing would be as it was ever again. 

He’d called it ridiculous, gestured wildly and rolled his eyes to the deepest hells, but a hazardous hope never left them until you’d far missed your bleed and it was confirmed to be true.

From that moment onwards, something shifted even further in Astarion. 

The domestic tether to your townhouse in the city - no longer just a convenience to remain a steady base for you both, but a fundamental part of his scene setting, to plant roots and grow together. Two centuries of rot and abuse, and his reward was finally nearing completion.

His nesting phase began far earlier than yours and with greater intensity than you could’ve matched even without the issue of your later-heaving belly. Entire pinboards tacked with decadent fabric swatches for every occasion - be it swaddling or nursery curtains. Tailor’s tape around his neck each morning and notebook in hand to note your measurements and take inventory of your wardrobe; ensuring you never looked awry or felt anything less than wholly comfortable. 

Because gods forbid ill-fitted clothing stand in the way of you and your brutal vomiting spells, obviously. A pointed click of his tongue as he fixes your sleeve.

In the middle months of your gestation, the typically discerning clientele who visited you and Astarion in your tailor’s store at the dead of night were the first to become privy to the news. Rounder by the week, flushed; brimming with a deep fatigue and yet somehow absolutely aglow.

Children to be fitted for yet another presentation evening placed sleepy hands on your belly with a saccharine softness. Their parents jostle you - sometimes in congratulations, sometimes to whisper in sheer curiosity. Dhampir are a notoriously rare breed, and you’re certain there were rumours of a third party involvement in the process.

‘No, no. We just tried really, really hard.’ You’d smile, as if in a blissful stupor from just the recollection. He’d turn to you with his ridiculously brilliant hearing; needle between teeth, brow raised; lips upturned in a slight quirk. Devilishly handsome, never anything less.

-

You drop the laundry basket in the kitchen corner. A stuffed bear falls from it. Clive.

A pause.

“You never asked what I did with that shirt, you know.”

It takes you a moment to recall which shirt he’s referring to. He sits at the table and watches you lazily.

“Which? The one for Mr. Chugley? I didn’t think it needed much by way of adjustment, at least?”

A stale piece of burnt toast sits on the counter untouched. You bite and chew and bite and chew like a woman who has never once tasted a morsel so divine; so untainted by the evils of hot butter and a filling bronze crunch.

“Oh - Bunt? Gods, no.’

He sips his stone-cold tea. A fresh film wobbles on top.

‘Bunt Chugley.”

A snort of laughter sends it straight back through his nose and out onto the table. You begin to choke on your toast.

“Bunt Chugley.” You giggle, crumbs spilling from your mouth.

Astarion stands to wipe himself down, creasing over with an escalating laughter.

“Bunt Chugley.”

He waggles his hands, eyes heavy lidded with lack of rest. 

He looks purely maniacal.

“That’s- that’s what we should-’

You stop for breath, cackling now; hands over knees for a brief moment.

‘We should call the next one Bunt Chugley.”

He launches into a wheezing fit.

“How- How would that even work, darling? Like Bunt Chugley Ancunín, or- or-”

“No! No, no. Just that. Bunt Chugley.”

You hold both hands to your eye as if framing a canvas, looking through the gap at the ludicrous proposition in front of you. 

He takes a moment to still. Smiles at you dopily.

Crosses the floor and brings both hands down to your waist with a gentle grasp.

“I am so sorry, my love.” He grins and holds his forehead against yours.

You look at him, dazed.

“Hmm?’

He simply looks up. 

A profoundly gut-wrenching wail becomes apparent to you from above. Your face falls.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Astarion.”

-

He’s up the stairs before you can comment further, swiftly darting back into your chambers and grinning with an unbridled joy - though, you note, with lack of rest that grin is beginning to look more insane by the hour.

“Sweetheart! My darling girl. Shush now. You’re sounding something absolutely wicked.”

You watch on from the doorway, arms folded; stale toast in hand and jaws meeting in a firm chew.

He’s far too good with her. 

It somewhat surprised you at first just how innately fatherhood came to him, but as he picks her up and cradles her intently it’s as if there are fractures of his own childhood coming back. How he was loved, how he was held. 

A piece of him, now alive and breathing again after all these years of death.  

He coos at her, bouncing her small frame gently in his arms and hushing her with each wail. It takes very little for soft mewls to take their place as she reaches aimlessly in his direction. 

He leans towards her grasping fingers and allows her to take one of his ringlets from the front of his head as he kisses her tummy. She’s enthralled by him; recognises him. She wants to know more of him. 

As he lifts his head her grasp remains firm.

“We have some work to do on your sleight of hand, I think. Not to worry.” 

Ever so gently, he unpicks her fascinated fingers and kisses them all in tow. Her face looks almost ready to crumple before he reaches for one final kiss on the very top of her head.

“There, now. All better. Back to sleep?’

A gurgle. A puzzled blink.

‘Absolutely. Mummy does look particularly radiant today, doesn’t she? I’ll be sure to send your regards.”

He catches the smile on your face. Winks your way.

“You’re getting the baby to flirt on your behalf now?” You tease.

“That’s the lady of the house to you. She was simply passing on her praises.” He whispers as he places her back into her crib and steps back fondly. Sidles over to you as you finish the last bite of toast and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“Stop playing coy. I know you feel the same way I do.’

He whispers down at you.

‘You want another one, don’t you?’

A kiss on the very top of your head.

“You’re projecting.” You smile.

You can’t deny him for long, he knows this. You don’t particularly want to. 

Since becoming a mother you’ve taken to parenthood almost as naturally as he has; and when the topic has come up since you’ve struggled to say no and mean it.

“Think, though. The sooner we try again, the sooner we can begin building our little mercenary force.” He looks at you with the face of a man who thinks he’s just had a really good idea.

“Oh! Yes! You’ve sold me!’

You pull him into a long kiss, the kind that still makes you swoon after all this time together. He tastes like cold tea and smells so clinical you can’t help but laugh heartily as you pull away.

‘That Noblestalk is getting to me. Have a bath and try again with a little less?”

He scowls before narrowing his eyes in thought.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“It just might, my darling dearest.” 

You wink this time.

The bath starts running before you’ve fully made it back down the stairs.

[bones4thecats]

MC! Reader Returns and Reunites with Sebek

Type of Writing: Request (Added Part) Characters: Sebek Zigvolt Name: MC! Reader Returns and Reunites with Sebek Original Poll Link: Here Other Parts: Part One Tagged Requester: @twistedcece and @blues824

A/N: This part two to the original request made by the second tagged person above. This features a hint at the original piece, so I recommend, before you read this, go check out the first part that I linked above! Anyways, enjoy!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

⚡ When you walked through that mirror all those years ago, Sebek went through so many emotions, emotions that he never thought he'd ever go through

⚡ Lilia eventually retired from being a member of the Briar Valley army and watched as Malleus was crowned King of Briar Valley and he applauded as Silver and Sebek graduated and became the personal guards of their new King

⚡ Even though he knew his grandfather, the person he looked up to the most, was happy for him, Sebek couldn't help but feel a large pang in his chest

⚡ You weren't there to celebrate with him...

⚡ Sweet Seven, why was he still thinking about you? It's been over three years, why were you the only thing that was on his mind during his rare breaks?

⚡ Sebek was walking alongside Silver as they stood right behind Malleus, as he was on his way to sit on his throne and discuss matters of borders with the new established leaders of the Queendom of Roses and the Shaftlands

⚡ Silver noticed his friend and co-workers un-easy behavior, and he gave him a light pat on the back

⚡ Even Malleus was kinda off that day for some mysterious reason

⚡ That morning, he had mentioned to Lilia and the two other knights that he felt a spurge of magical energy racing around the atmosphere for some reason, one that he couldn't answer

⚡ It was enough of a warning that prompted the guards to double on staff, leaving Silver and Sebek far more tired and busy than usual, but, they signed up for this

⚡ When the meeting finally ended, Malleus bid farewell to his fellow rulers as Silver and Sebek returned to their posts beside his throne

⚡ Malleus sat down and began to read a book that you had gifted him years ago, and he froze when the sound of a magical burst entered the room, prompting Sebek and Silver to hold their swords up, facing the portal with murderous glints in their eyes

" Child of man? " " Hey, you guys... long time no see, huh? "

⚡ Sebek froze in place as you stepped out, the portal closing behind you as Malleus hugged you, Lilia laughing as Silver smiled, patting your head in a welcome

⚡ You looked around and saw the familiar hair-cut of your long-time love, and when your eyes met across the room, Sebek began to tear up

⚡ You were here... standing right in front of him... now was his chance!

⚡ Walking up to your old friend, you smiled and rubbed your neck as tears threaten to spill from his eyes

" Hey Sebek... how have you be- "

⚡ Cutting you off mid-sentence, Sebek grabbed you by the waist and laid his lips against your's roughly, prompting Malleus to chuckle as the father-son duo took photos of the cute event

⚡ Allowing you both to take a breath, Sebek pulled away from your lips to lay his forehead against yours, his chartreuse eyes staring into yours

" I love you... I always have, Y/N. So please, please don't leave me again... "

⚡ Chuckling as you laid his head in your hands, you pressed a small peck to the half-fae's nose, your answer made every hateful thought of himself go flying out the window

" I will never, ever, leave you alone again, my dear. I love you, Sebek Zigvolt. " " And I you, my one and only. "

[mysticheathenn]

Messages From The Past

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is all about messages from the past. These could be messages from a situation with a past friend, or ex-partner, or just things you have went through in the past in general that you may not have healed from.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

Pile l:

What are your messages from the past? Tarot: 5 of Wands, The Hermit, 5 of Swords, 9 of Swords (reversed), Death, King of Wands | Oracle Cards: It Is Safe For You To Love & Release Your Ex

You may have been seeing angel numbers 555, 55, 99, or 999 pile l. You don't have to but for a few of you, this may have been reoccurring in your life for a bit now. Either way, this change that I feel for some of you may have happened recently for others of you this has happened a year or so ago but for most of you this energy feels fresh where you had to release someone who wasn't good for you. This feels like an ex where they have caused you to look at love from a different perspective that dimmed your light because of how they treated you. They may have been emotionally, mentally, or physically abusive or they just weren't emotionally and maybe even mentally unavailable towards you in your previous relationship which caused you guys to have a lot of arguments and conflict because you felt as if they didn't care for you the way you cared for them. This energy feels very much of a healing energy as right now you are most likely in your hermit era where you just want to be by yourself. Some of you know what you want from this period of solitude and others of you aren't too sure what to do with yourselves to the point it's causing you anxiety and making you think that maybe breaking up with your ex was the wrong thing to do or possibly hitting up any and everyone you can think of because it's not often you are alone/single. This is your period of getting to know who you are pile l. Getting back to the self. Knowing and accepting things that align with the person you want to become. Being alone in your solitude so you can develop more of your self-worth so you aren't wasting time like you did with your previous relationship. For some of you, I am hearing you were with the person for up to 4 years maybe even on and off. Know that one bad apple shouldn't spoil the bunch for you when it comes to love. Love did nothing to you, the person who lacked love and passion for you did. There are people out there looking to give you the love you give but you need to have some discernment about whether someone in your life wants to be with you or just play in your face. When you develop discernment make sure you have the strength to pull the plug and not give the benefits of the doubt because of potential or maybe things will turn around.

Pile ll:

What are your messages from the past? Tarot: 2 of Cups, The Moon, The Devil (reversed), King of Swords, The Empress. | Oracle Deck: Passion, Give Your Relationship A Chance, Heart to Heart Conversations

"Should I stay? Should I go? I don't know Your hot boy style drives me wild But in the back of mind, I know Even though I wanna see How you put that thing on me I can't let you get the best of me" - Best of Me Part 2 by Mya

Similar to pile l but the energy feels a bit different. Instead of the energy feeling toxic, this feels more between a right person wrong time and I chose and love me more scenario. You may have been drawn to Pile l but again the energy feels different. It feels lighter and has more clarity because you know your worth pile ll. This person you wanted to possibly build a life with but there was something always in the back of your mind or just in general that felt off that you couldn't put your finger on it. Or you kept ignoring a problem because you wanted things to work out. Either way, something possibly came to light or you decided to listen to your feelings and put yourself first. This may have been a relationship where while you didn't fight often you felt as if you had to keep expressing how you felt about situations and you kept giving the relationship a chance but it kept going in circles where they would change for maybe a week or month and then go back to their old habits leaving you frustrated and feeling as if they don't care. Some of you know this person cares and has some feelings for you but you wished that things could have been different. This feels more like your previous partner had a lot of growing up to do. You were possibly dealing with a man-child for a few of you. The partner's energy reminds me of Nick Miller from New Girl (TV Show). Nick wasn't a bad person and he literally would have done anything for Jess but it literally had to take her nagging, begging, and sometimes even just giving up on the relationship or caring for him to get shit done. He hated seeing her upset but he also didn't want to feel as if she was pushing him to be someone else. This may have been the scenario for you as well pile ll and you both couldn't come to an agreeance. For some of you, this relationship could go another round and become something that leads to marriage but this person needs to show they have grown up and for others of you...it's best to keep moving forward.

Pile lll:

What are your messages from the past? Tarot: The Chariot, 10 of Wands, 9 of Cups Strength, The Tower, 5 of Swords. | Queen of Pentacles Energy

"What about us? What about everything we've been through? What about trust? You know I never wanted to hurt you And what about me? What am I supposed to do? I gotta leave but I'll miss you" - Gotta Go My Own Way, HSM2 Vanessa/Zac

This pile feels like a mix of romantic and this being about life in general. A lot of you have gone through a period of trials and tribulations and always feel like you are getting the short end of the stick. There was an event that forced you to really look at your life and really see the bigger picture along with some small details and forced you to make the change in your life for the better. You decided you wanted to be happy even if it cost you losing friends, family, or even a relationship. You felt that in your previous situation, there was no room or growth for you and it was eating you alive to the point you may have developed panic or anxiety attacks because you felt as if you were drowning in a sea of living a life that wasn't you anymore. Either way, you developed this strength to walk away from what was causing you a burden but it didn't come with some conflict from those that you have left behind. This could even be a job that always thought about you last even though the place would fall apart without you and I am hearing for some of you it did fall apart. This season you are in, you are choosing yourself more. You are loving yourself more. You are walking the path that was always meant for you but you couldn't see through the rose-colored glasses you had on. I just want to let you know that the tower moment is still lingering in your energetic field. I feel some of you have been feeling this for some time now that there is a change on the horizon and you are right. You are meant to come on top with the Queen of Pentacles energy. The Queen of Pentacles gives me the same energy as the Queen of Wands and the Empress. She is all about not just her coins but stability, how can she level up and be the best version of herself, she is all about creating and nurturing the ground they walk on so they can reap the benefits of what they have sowed. This is the energy you are walking into pile lll. I must say there is a small few of you who keep trying to look back on the past and reminiscing...please stop. There is nothing there for you anymore. While it's okay once in a while I feel some of you are starting to feel the wave of nostalgia too heavy to where you think about going back. Even though you know you shouldn't.

Pile lV:

What are your messages from the past? Tarot:

"It's all a-bout me You, know I'm a star 'Cause I work hard To get to this point in my life I'm going up, so don't hate Just congratulate The whole world revolves around me Pen-ney, I'm a princess, a diva, and it's all about me" - It's All About Me, The Proud Family (Early 2000's) (Link)

Pile lV you probably felt a little drawn to pile lll. This pile feels like the moment where you feel the energy shift between you and those you have sworn would be your ride or die and day ones. This is the moment where you realize that you can't take everyone where you are going and you are seeing that. This isn't a bad thing even though you probably had a hard time letting go because of so much history and the possibility of feeling guilty as these people probably did nothing to "deserve" you slowly drifting away or even flat-out ghosting them for some of you. But you knew that walking away needed to be done in order for you to have the life you deserve. The people who used to be around you I feel probably didn't have the same beliefs, their mindsets were limited, and they had nothing positive to say and always complained about life but never had any solutions to their problems. This pile feels as if you had a spiritual awakening and decided one day that it was time to go after the things you want and to align with people who want more for themselves or even align more with those who are more spiritually intuned, hold themselves accountable, etc instead of always wanting to play the victim or keep themselves in situations that they know isn't good for them but keep doing it. You may have been called selfish, cold-hearted, and a few other names when you let others know that you are no longer a) speaking to certain people or b) you want more for yourself and won't be entertaining anything less than the frequency that you are on. I heard you are looking for your soul tribe. It reminds me of the luxury pictures I see on Pinterest and even here where people are looking for their soul tribe that they can shop, travel, and do yoga/spa days with no problems. When I say no problems I mean the kind of friends that don't stay in the group chat wishing and talking about traveling together but actually doing those things because they have their priorities together and go after what they want. Some of you may even feel sad from time to time because you do feel somewhat guilty over how you may or may not have handled a situation. Just remember you don't owe anyone anything you are free to leave anything that no longer serves you at any time. Sometimes that involves ghosting especially if you know that person lacks emotional maturity and other times you can have a heart-to-heart convo. You did what you had to do for the growth of you.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[desertduality]

HELLO soo I was inspired by @stiffyck and the most recent secret life episode to write some tcd angst set in secret life <33 Enjoy :D

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read there

———----

Scar, despite all odds against him, does hold his own for a little while. Gem is after him, bloodthirsty and intent, for reasons that Scar doesn’t know. She traps his base, she shoots at him, stabs at him — and he survives it all, up until he doesn’t. There are four of them by then, and they hunt him down and pick him off. And he dies. 

These games are fun, is the thing. They get together and they make silly little groups with playful rivalry’s and eventually someone wins. It’s fun. Scar has fun, usually. 

None of them know about the world he came from. That lonely, ravaged, barren world. The zombies had been everywhere, fast and stubborn. Scar had been young and hurt and alone, and had learned to run on broken legs before he learned how to read. 

It’s been a long time ago, now. The memories sneak up on him far less often than they used to, and he’s better. This though, this thing with Gem and the others, it’s hitting him in places that still hurt; places that will always hurt. 

Scar is fresh off his first death, still reeling from being hunted down, and Cleo and Grian are telling him he can’t stay. 

“You’re not one of us,” Grian says, and they’re just playing a game, but Scar is confused. He’d been invited, hadn’t he? But then Cleo had taken it back. 

“Scar!” Bdubs is a distance behind him, sitting atop a horse and calling his name urgently. “Scar, we need to talk to you.”

Scar goes, and hears whispering behind him, something about zombies and spreading. It makes a bit of nerves flare up in his stomach, but he ignores them. He is far enough removed from the past that hearing the word won’t send him into hysterics. He’s even recovered enough that he can handle the sight of a few zombies, even if his heart rate elevates until they’re gone. He’s better, he is. 

Bdubs takes him back to the others, and they explain to him what’s been going on. It’s Gem’s task to spread the Boogeyman curse, one by one, to everyone. He suddenly feels a little bad for trying to burn the book earlier, because this sounds like a good time. Causing some chaos, killing some people, making each other laugh — it's what they’re all here for. It’s why they play the game.

(There’s a small but persistent inkling of unease living behind his rib cage at the fact that they’re comparing themselves to zombies, to an apocalypse, but he ignores it. It’s not important enough to mention it, and he doesn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.)

They get Etho, and Gem praises him for it, and Scar tries not to compare the fortress the others are defending to the bunkers he used to raid. His brain still makes the connection, as much as he wishes it didn’t. The memories trickle in slowly, making him more and more on edge as the day goes on. It will be over soon, Scar tells himself. Then he can rest, and go back to being better.

Joel has a zombie spawner to farm XP. Scar has used it, has been inside it. He’d been expecting zombies, then. He doesn’t expect it when Joel throws down sixty-four zombie eggs in a row. 

The thin and fraying thread tying him together snaps.

Everyone is screaming and yelling, running, chasing after Joel. There are zombies as far as he can see, in groups and alone, groaning and gurgling into the night. It fills his ears, wraps itself around his mind like a vice, catapults him back to when he was just a kid, fighting the world with his teeth bared and no one at his back. 

Everything goes fuzzy and distant, the noises muffled beneath his heartbeat and heaving breaths echoing endlessly in his ears. He slows to a stop, chest heaving and eyes wide, skin going cold and numb with terror. Nothing makes sense. Everything is wrong. 

There’s something in his hand, and he looks at it, panicked tears prickling at his eyes. He’s holding a sword, and an anguished, confused noise rips itself from his throat. Where’s his gun? Guns are better, guns are safer; guns mean he doesn’t have to get close. 

The moaning of the undead is growing louder, they’re coming for him, and he stumbles forward with gasping breaths, eyes flitting around wildly as he searches for a place to hide. The ground is filled with craters, zombies in every direction, and he blinks desperately to clear his blurry vision, pushing forward with all the desperate agony of a man living on borrowed time. 

He thinks he hears someone call his name, but it can’t be real, it’s just a memory, it’s just his stupid, persistent hope manifesting itself at the worst possible time. He has to get back to his base, his bunker, but nothing looks familiar, no direction looks like the correct way to go—

He runs anyway, passing by a giant stone statue and weaving around holes in the ground and slashing blindly at anything that looks like it’s moving. He spots a tower in the distance, oddly shaped and oddly colored, but a structure nonetheless, and he runs for it. The zombies are here and they never left and he never left and he runs. 

He only makes it halfway. 

There’s a zombie in one of the craters, and Scar doesn’t see it, is too wrapped up in his tunnel vision, and it grabs at his ankle as he walks by. He hits the ground, hard, his knee hitting first before everything else. He hears a sharp crack, and knows it’s broken. 

He twists his head around wildly, tearing his leg out of the zombies cold grip with a yell of pain, dragging himself out of reach just in time for others to bear down on him. His vision becomes a swirling kaleidoscope of hands and teeth, of skin and claws, and he opens his mouth and screams. 

(He won’t know until later, but everyone near spawn hears it. Everyone hears it, and freezes, and turns to look. It sounds like pure terror, like the final cry of a dying man. None of them will ever forget it.)

He swings his sword wildly, slashing and scrambling to get away, but his knee hurts and they’re pushing him down, he can’t get up—

He hears yelling, distantly, but that still can’t be right, no one else is here, no one else can save him—

Scar rolls to the side, and falls into one of the craters, dirt and pebbles sprinkling down on top of him when he hits the ground with a dull thud. He shouts through clenched teeth as the landing jostles his leg, but still pushes himself up and back until his back hits the solid side of the hole. Grass and dirt is still clinging above him, forming somewhat of an overhang. They can’t attack from directly above. Scar grips his sword in violently shaking hands and waits for the hoards to find him. 

He still hears the voices, but he shouldn’t be hearing voices, he’s alone here, he hasn’t heard a human voice not his own since he was six, and he closes his eyes tightly for a few seconds, willing himself back to reality. Something drops to the ground in front of him, and Scars eyes wrench themselves back open, landing on the shadowed figure of a person coming his way. He has both hands on his sword, and he points it at the approaching zombie. 

It speaks. It says his name. 

“Scar,” the figure says, a deep, frantic concern in their voice. “Are you— What happened? Are you okay?”

The cloud that had been blocking the moon slowly drifts away, and Scar gets a good look at the figure — the person — in front of him. He’s human, he’s alive, and Scar knows him, he knows who it is, but he can’t be here, he’s not supposed to be here. This is the world where Scar is young and alone. No one else belongs here. 

The past and the present collide angrily in his head; he doesn’t know what’s real. He doesn’t even know this person's name. The person is crouching a few feet away, empty hands extended imploringly, worry plain in his eyes. Scar’s eyes catch on his shirt, black with gold accents, and can’t help but think that something’s missing. A letter, he thinks, but can’t quite remember which one. 

It doesn’t matter. He’s not really here. 

He must’ve said some of that out loud, because the man’s face drops, something heartbroken pinching at his eyes. Scar feels bad, and doesn’t know why. 

“I’m here, Scar,” says the man, voice trembling. “I’m real. You’re okay.”

The man is a liar. Scar shakes his head, a trembling exhale shaking his tense frame. The sword remains steady. 

“No,” Scar says, voice strained and breaking. “No, you— you can’t be. Not here.”

“Scar—“

“Stop saying my name,” Scar begs. “I don’t know— I don’t know who you are.”

It’s only half true. He recognizes him, knows he’s a friend, but his brain is rebelling against the very thought that he could exist in a place like this. In the place Scar grew up. No. Everyone was either dead or undead, here. Everyone but Scar. This person with sad eyes and gentle hands does not belong. 

“Impulse!” Another voice is calling down at them, and Scar looks up, catching a glimpse of bright orange curls and mismatched eyes. Nothing makes sense. “Is he okay?”

The man — Impulse — looks at him, and then looks up. He can still hear the zombies, everywhere and far too many. 

“Get Grian,” Impulse says, and the person above them freezes for just a moment, and then disappears. 

Grian, Scar thinks. Another name he knows. Another name that doesn’t make sense to be hearing in a world like this. His mind scrambles, his eyes sting, the zombies groan and shriek above him. Nothing makes sense. 

Grian will, some distant and muted part of him says. 

Grian will. 

—————————

Grian is on top of their cobblestone tower — laughing at the sheer amount of zombies and chaos in the distance — when Gem comes tearing up the slope at high speeds, something frantic and determined in her eyes. 

“No zombies allowed!” Grian calls down, grinning, though it dims when she looks up at him. There is something serious and desperate about her gaze. 

“Grian!” She slides to a stop at the base of their castle, face dotted with sweat and panic. “You need to come with me, something—“

“You’re just going to kill me,” Grian says, confused and faltering. “Why would I—“

“It’s Scar,” Gem interrupts, a harsh concern clipping her words. “He’s— Something’s wrong with him, a zombie got him and he screamed.”

Grian tilts his head. “Scar screams all the time.”

“Not like this,” Gem says, sounding genuinely shaken. “Not like this, Grian, please.”

She doesn’t even have her sword out, standing at the base of their fortress with wild eyes and a desperate plea. Something’s wrong with Scar. Something bad enough that everything else has gone out the window. Gem’s not here asking him to play the game. She’s here begging him to pause it. 

“Okay,” Grian says, a new bubble of panic growing in his chest. “I’m coming, let’s go.”

Gem nods at him when he emerges from the tower, and then she takes off running, leaving Grian with nothing to do but follow. It seems to take forever to get there, weaving around hoards of zombies and craters left over from the wither attack. The other server members are mowing through the hoards with swords and axes, and what seems to be extreme prejudice. They all look a bit shaken. The coil of nervous worry in Grian’s rib cage grows. 

Gem stops them at a random crater, and nods. “Down there,” she says, and then throws herself back into the fray, cutting through any undead limbs that reach for her. The surface is a battlefield. 

Grian drops down, and Impulse turns to look at him, grim concern pressing his lips thin. He looks relieved when he sees him, and Grian looks behind him and realizes why. 

Scar is there, hunched against the wall and shaking like a leaf, sword held in trembling hands and fearful eyes flickering between them. Grian’s stomach drops, and he inhales shakily. Scar looks lost, and so very, very afraid. He’s never seen him like this. 

“It’s the zombies,” Impulse says, quietly. “They set him off somehow, I— He barely recognizes me.”

Grian remembers, distantly, Double Life. Scar had fallen into a pit of zombies, and they had both died that day. He hadn’t quite understood why their shared heart had been beating so fast for so long after; he never knew the reason for Scar’s shell-shocked eyes above his trembling smile when they met back up. He still doesn’t know why, but now he knows for sure. Scar is afraid of zombies. 

“Get rid of them,” Grian says, equally hushed, even though everyone has already started. Impulse just nods, one hand on his sword, and climbs out of the crater. Grian turns to Scar. 

“Scar,” Grian starts, voice carefully relaxed. “You’re safe, okay? We’re getting rid of them.”

Scar shakes his head, moonlight catching on the tear tracks on his face, and Grian aches.

“You can’t be here,” Scar says, turning pleading eyes towards him. “You— You can’t be here.”

Grian gets a little closer, and crouches down, doing his best to appear non-threatening. “Why not, Scar?”

“It’s wrong,” Scar says, sounding all of ten years old, terrified and unsteady. “I’m supposed to be alone, you can’t be here.”

“Why are you supposed to be alone?” 

“It’s just me, it’s always just me,” Scar insists, and then he inclines his head upwards, to where the zombies are still groaning. “Me and them.”

Grian swallows, feeling out of his depth and worried. The only reason Scar would have a reaction like this is if it had once been true. Once upon a time, it really had just been Scar and hoards of zombies. And in Scar’s mind, that’s where he was. He’d never left. Grian’s stomach rolled. 

“We’re not there,” Grian says, still unsure where there was. “We’re in Secret Life, Scar. We’re playing a game.”

Scar shakes his head again, violently, and starts trying to stand up. A muffled whine escapes his throat when he puts weight on his knee, but still he stands. Grian wants to grab him and shake him and then wrap him up in several blankets. 

“You’re hurt,” Grian says, a note of pleading in his voice, hands hovering, wanting to reach out. “You shouldn’t be walking, Scar.”

“I’ve walked on worse,” Scar says vacantly, and twists around to look behind him, making a noise of frustration. “My backpack, where’s my— I need—“

“Backpack?” Grian repeats. 

“I need morphine,” Scar says, voice tight with pain and panic. “I need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. You can’t be here.”

Morphine. Scar’s plan is to numb the agony of a broken knee and run on it anyway. Scar says it like it’s normal, like there’s no other choice, like this is the only way. Maybe it was, once. Grian wants to scream and cry and pull the universe apart with his hands. Instead, he grabs Scar’s wrist in a gentle hold. 

“I am here,” Grian says, soft but firmly still, and Scar freezes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Grian tugs at his wrist making Scar meet his eyes, trying to ground him. Scar blinks at him, hazy and distant, chest heaving. Grian reaches out slowly, and takes the sword from Scar’s hand. 

“Do you remember,” Grian begins, “asking me to be your friend?”

Grian remembers. Scar, with grey skin and crimson eyes, hiding a sheepish grin behind a bouquet of poppies and lilacs. Something like recognition flickers across Scar’s face, and Grian keeps going. 

“We had a llama called Pizza.”

“I blew you up on accident.”

“The moon was falling and you built a rocket upside down.”

“You were my soulmate, of course it was you—“

“You made fun of our bread bridge.”

“You were actually a pretty good mayor, you know.”

Grian lays their memories out between them, holding Scar’s wrist gently in his hands, and doesn’t stop until Scar looks at him and finally seems to see him. His face crumples, awareness flooding his expression, and Grian lowers them both to the ground when Scar’s knees give out. 

“I’m sorry,” Scar says, voice cracking, and he gives an awkward little laugh that makes Grian’s heart twist sharply. “That doesn’t— That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“It’s okay, Scar, don’t apologize,” Grian says, adjusting his grip to hold Scar’s hand loosely. “Do you feel better?”

“I feel like I ran a marathon,” Scar answers, exhaustion in his tone. “I don’t— Thank you. For bringing me back.”

“Of course.” Grian hesitates. “…Where did you go?”

Scar takes a shaky breath, eyes going tired and sad. Grian’s eyes catch on a scar peeking out beneath his collar. 

“I was stuck in a hardcore world when I was a kid,” Scaf says eventually, resigned. “I was the only player in a zombie apocalypse. I had to… let myself die, to get out. But I spent years there.”

Grian stares, quietly horrified. He imagines Scar, so very young and so very alone, running on broken limbs and killing things that once were people every day, and still finding the willpower to survive for years and years. That Scar had grown up in a world without light and still come out of it with a personality bright enough to blind them all — it was nothing short of miraculous. Brilliant, mischievous, stubborn Scar, with enough skeletons in his closet for all of them and the uncanny ability to make them laugh until they were out of breath. 

“You never said anything,” Grian says, careful to keep any accusation out of his voice. He understands. He still wishes he had known, somehow. 

“It’s not fun to hear about,” Scar says, and stares at his broken knee. “And it’s…not easy to talk about, either.”

“I know,” Grian says, squeezing his hand. “But if you ever want to, I’m here. I don’t want— I don’t want this to happen again.”

The zombie sounds have died down, the others having done their damn best to kill them quickly. It’s quiet but for their breathing, slowly slowing down. 

“I’m a lot better,” Scar says, brow furrowed. “That was just, a lot more than I was expecting.”

“It’s okay,” Grian says. “It’s… You don’t have to be better all the time.”

Scar glances at him, his mouth lifting just a bit, looking a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“And you can talk to us.” Grian smiles back. “We can help you when it’s hard.”

Scar lets out a long, slow breath, the shake in his hands finally down to something manageable. Grian is relieved for all of two seconds, and then something mischievous flickers in Scar’s eyes. Grian sighs, because he knows what’s coming—

“That’s what she said,” Scar says, quick and unapologetic, and Grian smacks his shoulder with his free hand. Scar laughs, and Grian just rolls his eyes and grins. 

Yeah. He’ll be fine.

[avalypuff]

Answers to the common questions of “Why didn’t Zelda retain dragon features?” and “Why did Link’s arm revert to normal?”

I’ve been dying to do some analysis posts since TotK came out, and after seeing a lot of people complain about the above, I decided my first should be related to the endgame.

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts where people seem to misunderstand what was going on when Zelda changed back into a Hylian, and why Link’s arm returned to normal. Many write this off as simply plot convenience, and while it’s true that Nintendo wouldn’t want to leave the main characters of one of their most popular titles with permanent changes, I’m here to try my best to explain the actual reason these things happened the way they did, because whether you noticed it or not, there is plot relevance to this reversion.

Draconification is permanent.

This is an indisputable fact.

And while I have seen people criticizing the way Zelda changed back, the fact is she swallowed the stone knowing that she never would.

“I’ll be forever changed…”

Her cry for Link to find her was not for her sake. She wasn’t depending on him to find the key to changing her back. Nay, the only reason she desperately prayed for him to find her was so that he could get the Master Sword, which—ignoring game mechanics that would allow you to beat Ganondorf with literally any weapon with the right damage/durability ratio—canonically is the only thing that can hurt him.

When Zelda changed back, it was almost entirely thanks to Sonia. That’s right!

…Let’s take a second to recall this scene in which Rauru decimated the horde of Molduga.

We see Sonia extend her hand and then gesture for Zelda to do the same.

Here they’re extending their own power to amplify Rauru’s counterattack, even beyond the already-massive boost the Secret Stone provides.

In the final scene when Link finds himself hovering over the sleeping Light Dragon amongst a dream-like atmosphere, it’s really quite telling that Sonia is the first to rest her hand over Link’s, then followed by Rauru.

This time Rauru is fulfilling the role of amplifying Sonia’s power over time. Not just that, but adding it on top of the time manipulation that Zelda gave to Link at the beginning of the game.

That’s what’s happening here. This is immensely powerful, triple amplified time magic!

The change from dragon to Hylian wasn’t a transformation in the same sense that it was when Zelda changed from Hylian to dragon. I know that’s a confusing sentence, but consider the basis of Sonia’s time magic is recalling things as they once were.

Zelda didn’t retain dragon features because, through the power of time reversal, she was never a dragon to begin with.

This is the also the reason the Secret Stone reappeared on her necklace.

This is ALSO the reason Link’s arm reverted to its natural state before he was affected by the gloom.

And before y’all come at me with “well, why didn’t Rauru do that in the first place instead of giving his arm to Link?” Simple; Sonia wasn’t there. Even spirits aren’t omnipotent… in Hyrule. (Probably.)

The point is, this was essentially a lucky break for Zelda and Link, because if Sonia (and therefore Zelda, by inheritance) didn’t have time magic, there would have been no way to undo the Draconification. It would have been every bit as permanent as Hyrule legends and history says it is, and Zelda would be gone forever.

In fact, it’s likely it was a shot in the dark even on Sonia and Rauru’s part, considering there was no prior knowledge of reversing time on a dragon, let alone a person. It was a glorious blend of the convenience of Sonia’s time magic, and luck that it worked out the way they (“they” being all characters involved) wanted.

Anyways, to wrap this up, Draconification is indeed permanent, unless you have the number one badass-master-of-time-manipulation Queen Sonia on your side. Then you can probably undo anything. :)

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I would love a fic with Aemond and a blind!reader. I think it would be an interesting relationship dynamic! Maybe she lives at the castle? Daughter of someone who is on the court or of someone who works there? Free reign!

How could you be so blind?

Aemond x blind!reader / AO3 Link

A/N: sorry it took me soooo long to get to this one, but I wanted to take my time with it! It's not long, but it's cute fluff <3 thank you for requesting this!

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

...

“My Prince, are you alright?” 

Criston Cole was about to swing his weapon again until he realised that the Prince had dropped his shield to his side, his other still gripping the handle of his sword overly firm. Aemond hissed at the feeling of the cold metal on his new wound, dropping his shield almost instantly at this uncomfortable ache. 

Aemond grimaced and looked down at his hand, groaning at the sight of a new, line shaped wound that extended across the back of his hand. It had been his own fault and he’d known it. He was reluctant to remember how many times Ser Criston ever told him he should not hold his shield the way he does, otherwise the force of a strike may injure his hands. And yet, he had not listened before and here he was. Blood dripping down his hand and soaking against the leather cuff of his clothes, the sting continued to overwhelm his left hand. 

“It is alright, only a scratch” Aemond said through somewhat gritted teeth.

Criston had known him for too long to know he was putting on a brave face, as he always did. 

Abandoning the weapon, Criston shook his head. 

“Let me see”

Aemond stood back, almost tucking the wounded hand behind himself, pretending as if it never happened.

“I am alright, let’s continue”

“My Prince, I cannot allow you to train injured. You may injure yourself further” 

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Aemond had to accept that once again Ser Criston was right. There was no use in continuing to train with blood dripping from his fingers and a pain like no other shooting to his joints. Though he refused to go quietly, that much was certain.

With several huffs of annoyance and pain, Aemond abandoned his own weapons and training to sit in at the maester, who after cleaning the blood from the wound, simply applied some salve and cloth to keep the area away from dirt. 

Quickly feeling the beginning of a migraine coming on, the last thing he needs at his lunch hour is his brother echoing down the hallway, even the sound of his voice proving to annoy the second son further. 

To his utter dismay, Aegon was not alone, and in through the stone hallways echoed the pointed shoes of his mother and sister, all uncharacteristically together. 

“Aemond” Alicent’s sweet voice echoed slightly across the room, smile fading once she saw how his fingers were pressed against his head, “are you alright?”

Aemond almost felt bad. Not wanting to concern his mother this way.

“I am fine, mother. There is no need to worry”

Aeogn threw a lob-sided smile in his direction, sitting down to retrieve a trusty cup of wine.

“What happened to your hand then?” he smirked, “Ser Criston finally get the better of you?”

“Aemond, your hand” Alicent lifted his hand to inspect, only for her son to tear it away, not wishing to burden her with his injury.

“It is nothing, I have been to the maester for the wound. It will heal with time”

Alicent knew better than to push any further and at the same time, did not want to baby Aemond as he progressed into adulthood. Her brown eyes looked down at him for a moment and gave him a comforting smile and knew to drop the conversation altogether. 

“Well, at least give our guests the courtesy of a smile when they arrive” Alicent said quietly, picking at her skirts and making for the doorway.

“Guests?”

Alicent turned to Aemond, brows furrowed in confusion at his question. She had told him about it just the night before.

“Yes, we are to receive a new member of the Small Council”

“Even I remembered and I am several wines deep” Aegon smirked, downing the cup in his hand. 

Aemond groaned, eye rolling to the back of his head and the heel of his hand pushed harder against his forehead. Of course, he had completely forgotten and his mood at the moment did not permit meeting new people.

“Mother, I am in no mood…” Aemond started. Alicent’s smile dropped and she joined her hands,

“Aemond” her voice was more stern than he was used to, and his good eye looked back at his mother, “at least just be there. You do not have to say anything”

Alicent made for the exit and Aegon revelled in the idea that the oh-so-good second son had upset his mother in this way. Usually it was Aegon bearing the brunt of a mother’s scornful gaze, but it was nice and refreshing for him to gloat a little.

“Yes, brother” Aegon staggered to his feet, completely ignoring their sister as he pushed to follow Alicent, “Put on a good face. Although that may be difficult for you”

Helaena followed without a word, almost hating this as much as Aemond did. Once alone, he let out a heavy sigh and pushed himself groggily to his feet, taking as much time as he needed to follow behind. He really was not in the mood for this. 

He paused before entering the foyer, already hearing the echoed voices of a new man speaking in pleasantries and useless small talk. Hand laced behind his back, he took his place behind Aegon and Helaena, eye slightly closed to resist the sharp pain of the light that might make his headache even worse. Barely even listening to the quiet echoes of his mother, the clatter of heels on the stone floor rapped at his aching head more so.

“Your Grace, this is my daughter”

There was a short silence before a small, quiet voice responded, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. Please extend my thanks to the King for granting my Father this position”

Alicent seemed genuinely stunned for a moment, finding her words, “The pleasure is all mine, my Lady”

Scrunching his eye closed, expectant to make his greetings shortly, Aemond opened his eye a slither, seeing the blurred silhouettes of the Lord and Lady before his mother. He could not make out the woman, blocked by the form of her father as his back faced them.

“And may I introduce you to my children, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond”

Aemond made the effort to open his eye more so. The man was portly, but tall and sent a bow and a small smile, the woman next to him having an unusually strong hold on his arm. They stood before Aegon first,

“Prince Aegon” her voice was quiet still, despite being so close and he could see her extend herself to curtsy before his brother. 

Aegon, as per, had that stupidly drunken grin on his face, searching the woman’s face before him. Cocking his head slightly, he smiled back and kissed her hand, her expression never changed. 

Before Helaena, both of the women curtsied and the silver-haired woman seemed to regard her closely in front of her, perhaps seeing something others did not. But she remained silent and with a similar temperament, greeted her quietly. 

Aemond had not known what to expect when the father and daughter duo landed upon him. Of course, Aemond nodded in greeting to the Lord first before allowing his good eye to land on the woman next to him. Her arm was linked with her father’s, fingers gripped at the sleeve. As if not knowing exactly where she was stood, she took a baby step forward towards Aemond, eyes vacant and staring ahead.

“Prince Aemond” she greeted quietly. As with custom, he took her other hand softly and placed a kiss to it, his eye never leaving her face. She never moved once, save the ever-present chaste smile on her features. And while she stood before him for a moment, he studied all her features, a touch of curiosity tugging at him greatly.

“My Lady” 

He had surprised himself with the greeting, having not thought before the words left his mouth and something tight like a vine wrapped about his chest. 

“My Lord, shall I introduce you to the King, to make your pleasantries” Alicent piped up to cut through the air.

The father simply nodded without a sound, tugged back by the whisper of his daughter.

“Father, might I walk about?” she asked, eyes still straight ahead, vision not shifting.

As if forgetting he nodded, “Your Grace, might the Princess Helaena accompany my daughter through the Keep?

It is a new place, your Grace and she does not know her way about”

Alicent smiled comfortingly and gestured to her daughter, who uncharacteristically raised her head and smiled at the prospect of female company. 

“Of course. Helaena, darling, would you?” 

Helaena nodded enthusiastically and had that child-like smile on her face now, hopping over to the woman as her father gently placed her arm in Helaena’s. He watched almost in pride as the two women walked away, the murmured whispers of the young women audible to those walking by.

“Thank you, Princess. Do be slow with me, I fear my feet cannot keep up” the woman laughed, her hand finding its natural place in Helaena’s.

As the pair walked away, the brother’s were left with two differing versions of curiosity. Aegon with a smirk on his and Aemond’s blank, with the desire to fill his head with more of her.

“Blind, most of her life. Shame, she would be quite pretty if not for that”

Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye.

“You are insufferable”

Aegon furrowed his brows, almost offended, “What? Perhaps it is a blessing she is blind, so she does not have to see your miserable face”

Tsk.

“Better my miserable face than your constant indecent quips”

Aemond felt his fist clench uncontrollably behind his back. Aegon half-turned on the spot to google his brother, one eyebrow raised as if mocking.

“What has gotten into you, brother? Cuntstruck already?”

Aemond could practically feel the burning behind his forehead now, getting more and more agitated at his brother’s neverending mocking.

“Perhaps I sympathise” Aemond said flatly, his broad body facing Aegon now, “or perhaps I am just sick of hearing your voice”

“Either way, I do not give a fuck. Frankly, it amuses me to think there is one good eye between you” 

Aemond could hear how proud his brother was of himself as Aegon slinked down the hallway out of sight, careful to not push his brother too far. But far enough it seemed, as Aemond felt his teeth pierce his lip in annoyance. 

He scanned the hallway, hoping to at least have looped back to bump into her and his sister. But there was no sign of them until much later, when Aemond happened upon the two young women in the gardens. The sight before him made him smile properly for the first time in a while, seeing his sister talking erratically and excitedly. She was knelt before the woman, hands placed out to her to allow a caterpillar Helaena had found to crawl its way onto her skin.

“Oh, it tickles” the lady said, her body tensing and trying her best not to laugh, shaking in her attempt. 

The sound of Helaena’s genuine laugh brushed through the spring trees and the other woman’s too as the insect crawled up her arm.

“Does he have hairs?” she asked.

Helaena looked up wide with glee, “This species do, they use them to sense vibrations in the ground, since they have no eyes”

The woman nodded in understanding and a silence fell onto the Princess, her expression immediately falling, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to offend!”

Helaena looked worriedly at the woman before her, fearing that she was too nice to retaliate to what the Princess perceived as a cruel joke.

But the woman simply shook her head, letting a quiet laugh escape, “There is no need to worry, Princess. I thought nothing of it” 

The woman’s hands hovered over where she thought the caterpillar was, picking the small creature up with her delicate fingers to lay in her palm. Satisfied that her new friend had not been offended with her words, Helaena smiled and took the creature back to lay him back in the grass. 

“I am grateful for your company, Princess. Thank you for taking me around the Keep, it is difficult to memorise on my own” 

Helaena shook her head, “It is alright, my pleasure, my Lady. I hope we can become better acquainted as friends”

Helaena smiled hopefully, “I would like that very much”

She almost squealed with delight at the prospect of a friend, squeezing her hands tightly. 

“If you will excuse me, I will see you tonight for supper”

The young woman nodded, ever a smile on her soft features. She could hear the soft footsteps of the Princess walking away, a sigh escaping her chest as the sound of muffed leaves swayed in the wind. 

Aemond had watched the entire time, mouth slightly open as if to say something. He would not like to admit it to himself, but he was curious about her. She seemed to have a cheerful personality and a smooth, sweet laugh that claimed the dark silence in the air around her. And at first, Aemond was shocked to hear that she was blind. Were it not for her motions, he would never have guessed. 

Her eyes were light and clouded, not dissimilar to a bright white cloud in the sky.

“I can hear you, Prince Aemond”

His heart stopped in his chest as her head turned in his direction, a breath caught in his throat at being caught. Was she lying this whole time about her sight? Surely there was no explanation other than this, he thought.

Then she left a giggle free, “I can hear your footsteps and breathing. I don’t think you are as light-footed as you think”

His chest unclenched at her joking nature, a smile once more making its way slowly on his face, knowing that she would not be able to see and mock him for it.

With this acceptance, he approached her and stood before her seated form.

“I apologise, my Lady. I did not mean to pry” 

She shook her head, “Not at all. Would you like to join me”

Pulling his cuffs back over his wrists, he sat beside her, eye never leaving her.

“Your sister is lovely”

“Hm” he hummed in response, “I think she is happy to finally have some female company” his fingers ran over the bandage on the back of his hand, “I have never seen her so happy”

She clasped her hands together on her lap, using one of her thumbs to run over the other. A nervous gesture perhaps?

“It will be nice, seeing as my father has been graced with his position” 

“Your family intends to stay in residence”

She nods slowly, “I believe so”

“Good” 

Aemond spoke without even thinking, panic settling into his head and neck getting hot once he realised she bit her lip, smiling to hold a giggle inside, “Uh-u…I only meant that…it would be good to know you better. If we are to share the same table”

She nodded still smiling, knowing how flustered he had been.

“Thank you, Prince Aemond” she paused, “although, I do not think your brother feels the same way” 

Aemond was about to open his mouth to say something, kicking himself that she had heard what Aegon had said.

“I urge you not to worry. I have been blind long enough to grow thick skin” she smiles again, and Aemond wonders how someone can be so happy.

“It is still no excuse for his words”

She scoffed, “I don’t think he cares if he offends me or not. I have learned to live with it”

I have learned to live with it, those words echoed in his head for minutes after she had said it. And he felt all but vulnerable again, like a child. 

“I was not born blind” she said, answering the question before Aemond had the opportunity to consider even asking it.

“Although, I was too young to appreciate having sight. It’s funny isn’t it?” she turns to him, but unknowing where exactly he was, her eyes were still focussed past him.

Aemond furrowed his brows, confused, “What is?”

“That you don’t appreciate what you have until it is gone”

It was Aemond’s turn to scoff now, and he did, turning away slightly.

“I’m not sure I would consider it funny” he replied, slightly hurt that he could relate perfectly. 

“Perhaps funny is not the right word, then”

She placed her hands on the bench at the side of her to readjust, unknowingly brushing her hand passed Aemond’s and she flinched, as if he were hot to the touch.

“I apologise”

He murmured a response.

“I use my hands too much” she excuses herself again and he has not observed this until she just said it. But she did reach out for things to check what exactly it was, “It is how I see” she laughs at her own joke, and Aemond feels the mischievous air radiate off her, already feeling as if he knew her better.

“Do you see any light?” he asks, genuinely wondering.

She does a half nod, “I see silhouettes of people. If I focus very well I can see your outline, but even that has gotten worse”

“If people allow I sometimes touch their faces, to see what they look like” she pauses, using her hands with her speaking, “But people usually find that quite strange”

Aemond nodded, understanding what she meant.

“Does it help you?” he asks and he smiles when she returns with a sharp nod, her cheeks rounding up with her smile. 

“My hands are my eyes” she continues, and he relishes in the sound of her voice, “when the eyes are affected, the hands reach out for what is before them”

She spoke in such riddles, sometimes it confused him. Or rather her words were like poetry, as if she had rehearsed what she was going to say. Perhaps that was something Aegon might want to start practicing.

Aemond puts his hand in the air before her, hovering over hers. 

“And what do you feel?” he asks.

She has a confused look on her face for a moment before bumping her hands up to meet his large one, hers were so small in comparison. She emitted a small oh in surprise at feeling his hand was so close to hers and Aemond could see the pure concentration on her face as her delicate fingers ran over his injured hand. Her touch so soft that it did not feel in the least bit painful.

“I feel…” she paused for dramatic effect, “...a hand”

Aemond scoffed at her joking nature.

“Sorry” she half-joked, hands still on his skin. He watched as her fingers studied at him in patience.

“Your hands are large, good for fighting and holding a sword.

Hm…your fingertips are coarse. And you have callouses on the heel of your palm. Perhaps you like to train a lot.

Hmm”

Her hands made their way over one side to the other, pausing as her fingers rested on the bandage.

“You’ve hurt yourself and the bandage is fresh…

No scars other than that. This is not your dominant hand”

Aemond raised his eyebrows, half-shocked and half-impressed at her ability to draw such conclusions. Like those palm readers in King’s Landing.

“You have slender wrists…you were a small child”

Aemond observed her now and her face, her tongue slipping over her lip to concentrate once more. When she is finished, she does not retreat her hands.

“Very good” he said after a short silence and that smile graces her once more. 

Taking in a sharp breath, he turns his body to face her, taking her hands in both of his easily. With his thumbs massaging her palms, he lifts them to place at his jaw.

“What about here?” he asks.

He can tell she is shocked that he has allowed her to touch his face. And she wonders if she should refuse him, feigning nervousness. But curiosity of her own gets the better of her and she is in no position to refuse a Prince. So she applies pressure to either side of his face, but still soft to Aemond.

So much so his eye closes at the feeling of her ghostly hands across his features. 

She traced his jaw, cupping his angular chin, and he no longer wishes to watch her as she does this. Instead opting to disappear in this feeling, her warm hands upon him.

Her thumbs symmetrically glide on his undereye, one tracing the contour of his eye and the other the pattern of this leather eyepatch. And then over the bottom of the scar. But her touch doesn’t falter, as if it is the most usual thing in the world. Her fingers fiddle with the strap of it for a moment before passing over his nose and then to his forehead, and all memory of the migraine he once had was completely gone. Her touch was healing and the throbbing began to dissipate back into his muscles.

He almost sighed out loud as her nimble and small fingertips found their way into his hairline, passing across the follicles and eliciting a feeling of pure bliss. Perhaps it was the feeling of being understood. Or perhaps it was just having the soft, delicate touch of someone.

Her fingers passed over his locks and he opened his eye once again to look at her. He knew she would not be able to see it, but he was smiling contently down at her. 

Her hands retreated, remaining suspended in the air between them and she swore she could feel the current of his breath against them.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

Her tongue came to lick at her lips again as she formed a reply in her head.

“I think you have had a difficult time”

Her words hit him deeply, not like a kick to the chest but that feeling of having the curtains drawn quickly and being woken. He felt his very outer shell begin to peel away, like a peach that she had sunk her thumb into. But not pried open, but rather overripe and splitting of its own accord. Merely needing the touch to splay open.

He swallowed thickly, a feeling of comfort washing over him, knowing that he was being truly seen.

“And you have beautiful hair” 

[rinstaro]

Tbh I don’t have an idea for this one kore, but smth horny asf with my bb time or even wild cause I’ve been having a bit of a rough time

hope ur well and thank you!!

-💫

of course, anything for you dear. this took so long!!!! sorry i’ve been so dead lately, life is tryna whoop my ass. i was playing botw and changed into the barbarian set and…… yeah. you know how it “bolsters links fighting spirit”? in my head it just makes him a lot more feral so it makes him horny too. i hope you like it! and i hope you feel better soon! i promise that these rough times will pass 🌟

cw: he’s a little mean, doggy, forest sex, reader is implied to be shorter than him, slight predator/prey dynamics, y’all are just messing around… or are you? reader has a vagina no pronouns, not proofread &lt;3

minors do not interact.

you played with wild’s stuff all the time. he didn’t mind so long as you didn’t hurt yourself. his swords, his bows, and especially his armor. no matter how many rupees he’d spend buying you whatever clothes you wanted, you were always fascinated with his instead.

his knights armor was heavy and sturdy. his climbing gear showed off his toned arms. his sheikah armor had you drooling.

the only set you hadn’t seen on him was the barbarian armor. you always wondered about the set. the headpiece was just a little scary, so you asked him what the armor was for when it covered so… little.

“it makes me a little more…. it’s easier to fight.”

he left it at that, but it made you curious. so it made him stronger, but you wanted to see that firsthand. you asked him if he’d put it on for you to which he shied away. “i don’t think you’d like it…”

you rolled your eyes, begging him to do it, just once. he eventually caved. when he did, you immediately realized why he was hesitant to show you his armor.

he looked fucking divine.

the way it exposed the best parts of him had you salivating. you circled him, trailing your gaze up and down his body. the tattoos that manifest on his torso and legs... you wanted to taste them for yourself. “i cannot believe you hid this from me,” you mumbled. you wrapped your arms around him, tracing his skin with your fingertips. you could hear his breath hitch as you teased him relentlessly.

suddenly he grabbed your wrists, looking at you with a hardened gaze.

“i’m not sure if we should… do that right now.”

you could tell wild was holding himself back, so you decided to kick it up a notch. you dropped to your knees in front of him, batting your eyelashes when he hisses. your hands trailed down to his thighs, nails scratching the skin ever so slightly. “come on, you don’t wanna have fun? at least let me– oh!”

the grip on your wrists tightened, and you were locked in place. your heated gaze met his, and you shuddered. he looked like he was about to eat you alive. wild’s nostrils flared as he stared down at you, seemingly trying to keep himself together. he slowly leaned down, eyes never leaving yours.

“sure, let’s have some fun.”

that’s how you ended up deep in the forest, heart racing and wild hot on your trail. this was harder than you thought, but it was definitely exciting. the deal he made you was simple. just a quick game of hide and seek.

“you get five minutes. if you win, you get your way. if i win, i get mine.”

you took off as soon as he uttered the word ‘run’, excited giggles ringing in his ears as he watched you. he waited til you were out of sight, and even gave you an extra minute. after counting, he started walking at a leisurely place in the direction you took off in, grinning to himself.

sure, this was a little unfair. you didn’t stand a chance against him without the set, let alone with it. but you didn’t need to know that. you wanted to have some fun, so he’ll entertain you. wild wondered how long you’d last when he finally got you under him.

you stopped to catch your breath, hands on your knees as you panted. surely this was far enough. you'd been running at full speed for a while, and you were sure at least 2 minutes had passed. you had to have gotten pretty far.

only moments later did you hear a loud “thud” from behind you. you spun around to be met with trees and shrubs, the silence making you uneasy. your eyes scanned the area only to find nothing. probably just some animal, right? even if it was, you weren’t gonna take the chance. you slowly backed away in the opposite direction of the noise, keeping an eye out for any movement.

when you turned back to run, you were met with the hard surface of someone’s chest. you groaned, rubbing your nose before your eyes widened at the sight of your boyfriend.

“i win, right?”

you opened your mouth to protest, quickly being cut off by him gripping your chin. his hold was gentle but the look in his eyes was anything but. “l-link?” he wore a twisted little grin, as if he’d just caught his first meal in days.

“so we’re doing this my way. i’ll still give you one choice. do you want it here, or do you want me to chase you back home?” your knees buckled at his words, your mind reeling. you couldn’t even begin to speak, sputtering out nothing but nonsense. wild huffed, grabbing your wrists and pinning you face first to the nearest tree. he pinned your arms on the side of you and spoke, “don’t move.” you nodded hastily.

“you know you look really cute when you run? it was hard not to take you right there. the wait was worth it, though,” he grinned. his fingers traced your spine, his hunger only growing as he watched you shiver.

wild placed a hand over your eyes and started trailing love bites down your neck. you whined. the bites felt hard enough to leave marks, yet you could still tell he was holding back. you pushed your ass back against him, trying to rile him up.

your boyfriend growled, suddenly biting down harshly on your neck. you whimpered loudly as your arms twitched with the need to move, which didn't go unnoticed.

"look at you, still trying to be a good pet. ah, its a little late though. you've already pushed me to my limit," he snarled, landing a smack to your ass. he watched the flesh jiggle, humming contentedly. without warning, your bottoms were ripped from you and thrown to the ground. the roles were now swapped, wild on his knees before you- well, behind you.

you felt him part your folds with his thumbs, watching your sex drip with arousal. you squealed at your sudden nudity, arms reaching back to grab him. he quickly put a stop to that, grabbing both wrists in one hand. "on the tree. don't interrupt me."

you obeyed his orders, bringing your arms back to yourself and placing them on the tree. once he was satisfied with your position, he gave no warning before licking a long stripe up your cunt. you moaned shakily, the pleasure between your legs making you tremble. wild hummed, tongue swiping across your clit at a rapid pace.

he ate you like a man starved, your position not allowing you any room to squirm. you moaned his name over and over, and it only seemed to make him more ravenous. a mix of spit and slick dripped down his chin while his nails dug into your thighs. he'd been waiting for this for far too long. "l-link, im gonna- keep going, please!"

your boyfriend wasn't listening to your whines, tongue fucking you until your eyes crossed. he was doing this for him.

only a couple moments later did you gush all over his face, legs shaking in his grasp. wild didn't stop even when you whimpered for him to slow down. he made sure you were licked clean before pulling away from your cunt.

"b-babe what- oh!"

you weren't sure when he undid his belt, but you felt the head of his cock push against your folds.

"you always taste fucking amazing. be sure to give me another taste later," he whispered in your ear. his buttercup blonde hair tickled your shoulder as he leaned over you. "that wasn't loud enough for me, though. maybe i just need to be a little rougher, then you'll scream for me right?"

without another word, he pushed his cock into your cunt making your eyes roll back into your head. it took no time for you to adjust to his size, and he took no time in starting up a mean pace. the sound of his hips slamming into yours rang in your ears, every pleasurable thrusts making your head spin. one hand left your hips to grab your hair, tugging slightly. you winced, the pain sending heat right to your cunt.

"oh, you like that? squeezing me so hard— so cute, baby, thinking you could beat me," he groaned. you could only respond with loud moans, your brain turned to mush. "sound so pretty, gonna cum?" you nodded frantically in response, begging for him to keep going. he watched your cunt suck him in, your ass jiggling with every mean thrust.

"p-please, feels good!" your words slurred together, drool beginning to drip from your chin. it was too much and yet you wanted more. he was hitting your g spot with every thrust, his balls slapped against your clit, and you couldn't imagine a better way for this game of yours to end. you heard him snarl before he picked up his pace.

"f-fuck! 'm my god yes!" a few more thrusts and you were spasming in between him and the tree. wild stopped his movements, relishing in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. he chucked to himself as he watched you writhe. he suddenly frowned, realizing he hadn't been able to see your face when you came. oh, well. he'll just make you cum again.

wild pulled out, turning you around and staring you in the eyes. he then watched as your chest rose and fell, mouth hung open as you tried to catch your breath. the ferocity that was temporarily sated was now rising again.

you yelped in surprise when he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your back rested against the tree as you furrowed your brows in confusion. "b-babe?"

"you're so gorgeous. how many times do you think i could fuck you til your legs gave out?" he questioned casually, a dark smile on his face. your legs clenched against him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders while he held you up by your thighs. you swallowed thickly, unable to answer. "hm? three? four? or more than that? well, i guess we'll see..."

wild never broke eye contact as he slipped his cock back into you, not even giving you a moment before fucking you at a savage pace. your back arched against the tree as you squirmed in his grasp. he pounded himself deeper into your cunt, his growls getting louder and your vision beginning to turn white. he was too much, fucking you so mercilessly and yet you couldn't bring yourself to want to stop. is this what he meant? he thought you wouldn't like this?

"l-link!"

"hm?" he answered, never faltering in his pace.

"harder!" your boyfriend's eyes widened slightly in surprise before he huffed in disbelief. you just continued to surprise him. he adjusted his grip on your thighs, leaning in so that you two were nose to nose.

"i've always wanted to see how much you could take."

[ariseur]

Hmmm…Cloud with a s/o thats the EXACT opposite of him? How do you think he’d act?🧐

cloud n his polar opposite 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

cloud strife x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

guys don’t mention the fact that i have to literally add esoteric angsty poetry in some of my works, it’s a habit i’m trying to break, okay?? 😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

none that i know of except intended lowercase (?), lmk if i missed anything though!! 💕

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ cloud with someone who’s entirely different than him would def be an amusing sight.

❥ now we all know cloud. awkward, pretty stoic, his social skills all go into his sword basically. now, imagine him with this happy go lucky, sociable, sweetheart. it’s definitely a contrast.

❥ i think at the first meeting, it would take him some time to get used to you. especially if you’re chatty, then he might tell you to shut up a few times 😭 but once he gets used to you, he’ll somewhat stay quiet. if you flirt with him, he’ll literally combust. he has no idea what to do. leave him alone okay???

❥ once he’s around you enough, he might even start mimicking your behavior with certain traits. if you tease him, he’ll quip right back. he’ll even give you a close mouthed chuckle as your humor rubs off on him.

❥ it’s entertaining watching you follow cloud around like an excited puppy as you circle around him and ask all these questions while he’s just answering nonverbally. or imagine cloud just linking pinkies with you as he looks so determined on making sure you don’t get hurt in the streets while you’re just rambling on with no care in the world.

❥ if you’re the exact opposite of cloud, i assume you’re more extroverted or lively in a public setting. definitely more of a people person than cloud. but there are times where cloud will just drive you out to a quiet place and sit with you, watching over midgar or whatever sector you’re in. he’ll let you ramble on and on to him, listening for however long you want him to.

❥ ugh for some reason i can just imagine this scenario where youre just begging him to dance with you and he says no and then you keep going and pull him up to which he “begrudgingly” agrees and then UGH

❥ DO YOU GUYS SEE THIS VISION??????1??22?3?:?

❥ if you don’t know how to fight, cloud will gladly teach you. hes actually a really good teacher!! he’ll correct your form frankly and will give you a ‘good job’ if you perform correctly. he doesn’t know it, and he definitely won’t admit that he does if he knows it, but he’s a great teacher and he knows exactly what to say. cloud’s 50/50, he’ll either crack a smile or roll his eyes at you when he sees you pat yourself on the back for the simplest success, depending on how long you’ve known him.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

“c’mon, CLOUD—! just this one time!”

“no, i told you.” he huffs, “i don’t dance.” his eyes stay closed with furrowed brows, arms crossed while he leaned back in the small garden chair.

you decided to invite him to a family party, which ended up with you practically pleading on your knees for him to dance with you. you two were outside in a small clearing behind the small house as the music blared in the distance. only the whoops of family members and giggles of little kids running around were in the air, making you smile as you extended a hand out to cloud.

“just one?” you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes as you watched cloud exhale through his nose before he finally lifted his gaze to your hand. he observed it warily, almost as if it was a trick. cloud finally lifted his head and looked up at you, pressing his lips together as he considered his choices. he sighed, mumbled something under his breath, and took your hand in his own leather clad one.

you squealed and rushed to hug him, “thank you, cloudd—!” you drew out the ‘d’ as you squeezed him tight. he patted your back awkwardly before you pulled away and grinned at him, lifting a finger signaling for him to listen.

his gaze shifted elsewhere in thought, ears picking up the song blasting in the distance changing from a swing tune to a slow dancing rhythm.

you squeezed cloud’s hand in yours as you leaned your head on his shoulder, trying to ease him out of his stiffness. he closed his eyes, focusing on the music as you coaxed him into a small shuffle. the melody melded you into one being as you swayed with the music, cloud even being confident enough to eventually twirl you a bit.

you give him a sly grin, “y’sure you haven’t done this before, cloud?” you teased. he made a small noise of surprise before he looked away, still shuffling with you. the music was drowned out by the sound of each other’s heartbeats, cloud shaky sighs every time you’d giggle when you tripped over his feet. he reveled in the moments where you two were alone, only your bodies present accompanied with your minds and your hearts, full of love. where you’d persuade cloud to come out of his hideout and remind him that it’s okay to defrost, to accept that he is human and that he has feelings as well. he didn’t have to listen to everybody who’d recognize that he was cool or feel the pressure of their words where they’d only recognize him from a surface exterior. because truth be told, even the coolest of people try their damndest to be alright.

[zelinkdragons]

Here are two pics I commissioned recently, since I wanted to see how Link might look as an immortal dragon 💖 Thank you so much @eethok and @smugcomputer!

This is an AU where Link got his arm back, but Zelda stayed as a dragon at the end. So she wouldn't be alone, Link became a dragon too using Mineru's Secret Stone.

As the Light/Demon Dragons are called the White/Black Dragons in other languages like Japanese, I decided Link should be the Silver Dragon. Maybe his English name could be something like Knight Dragon, because he’s silver like a sword blade, or the Hyrule knight armour he sometimes wore in the past, and due to him mostly flying at the Light Dragon’s side.

I was more involved in brainstorming aspects of the left pic because I only printed one set of refs. Design info under the cut.

Dragon Link AU | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Dragon Link retains his hair and eye colour like the Light and Demon Dragons do.

Like Farosh he only has one horn, with ‘damage’ resembling the decayed Master Sword.

He has eight eyelashes like the Demon Dragon (the elemental dragons only have six and the Light Dragon has seven), but with some lashes longer to resemble the Sheikah slate symbol. @eethok suggested the eyelashes be blue like Link’s hair tie, and that’s where the Sheikah slate symbol came in. This symbol is also used on the Purah Pad's screen.

He has a canine-like snout to reference Link’s wolf form from Twilight Princess, and the pink patches are vaguely referencing his pink rabbit form from Link to the Past.

His spikes and other accents are green to represent the Triforce of Courage, since the Light Dragon has blue spikes and the Demon Dragon has red ones. Even though this Link wears blue more, he still gotta be green! I tried to choose a shade like the Tunic of the Wild.

His inner eye colour and sclera might change because I haven't fully decided what they should be yet. The Light Dragon's inner eye colour is green and she has purple sclera

I'm not sure if his spine scales would be blue or silver, since the Light Dragon's are gold like her eyelashes, but the Demon Dragon's are black like his scales.

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 9 

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4k

warning; fight, mention of death, mention of blood, death.

notes; at the end ;)

here is the link for part 8 or part 10

---

The rest by the fire had been brief, a stolen moment of peace in the midst of a storm. With the morning light just beginning to filter through the trees, you and Azriel resumed your search, the urgency of the mission driving you forward. The forest was quiet, too quiet, and the weight of the unknown pressed down on you like a suffocating shroud.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around him, more active than usual, their whispers almost audible as they communicated with him. He walked beside you, his posture tense, every sense on high alert. You could feel it too—the growing sense of unease, the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

Azriel suddenly stopped, his hand gripping your arm as his shadows seemed to surge around him, coiling tightly as if in warning. “My shadows are picking up movement ahead. A group of people. We’re getting close.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and determination battling within you. You nodded, your grip tightening on your swords. “We need to be careful, Az. This feels… off.”

He looked at you, his expression dark and serious. “It does. Stay close to me. Whatever happens, we face it together.”

You nodded, but even as you said the words, a strange feeling began to creep over you—something deep inside, a cold dread that had nothing to do with the approaching danger. It was as if the very core of your being was reacting to what lay ahead, a warning from the power that you had kept hidden for so long.

As you moved forward, the trees began to thin, revealing a clearing ahead. The shadows darkened, and the air grew colder, the smell of damp earth and something else—something metallic—filling your senses.

And then you saw them.

A group of figures stood in the clearing, their faces hidden by dark hoods. But it was the man standing at the center who caught your attention—the same man who had come to your shop with the mysterious order, the man whose presence had set off a chain of events that now led you here.

He was waiting for you, his stance relaxed, almost casual, as if he had been expecting this moment all along. His gaze locked onto yours, a cold smile curving his lips.

“Welcome, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and unhurried. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Azriel moved closer, his hand hovering protectively near his blade, his shadows swirling with anticipation. “What is this?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The man tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “This, shadow singer, is the culmination of a plan that has been in motion for a very long time. You see, Y/N, this was always about you. The weapon… it was meant for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing as you tried to make sense of his words. “What are you talking about?”

The man’s smile widened, a cruel edge to it now. “The power inside you, Y/N. The flames that you’ve kept hidden, the power that you’ve tried to suppress, the phoenix—it’s not meant for you alone. It was never meant to be kept by one person.”

Azriel’s grip on his blade tightened, his gaze narrowing. “You want to take her power?”

The man’s eyes gleamed with something dark, something hungry. “Yes. The weapon I requested was to extract it, to take that power and use it as it was intended—to control it, to harness it.”

The words hit you like a blow, the truth of them resonating deep within you. You had always known that your power was different, that it was something more than just a gift of healing. But you had never understood the full extent of what it was—or what it could become in the wrong hands.

“You can’t have it,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury. “I won’t let you take it.”

The man’s smile turned mocking, his gaze flicking to the others around him. “You don’t have a choice, Y/N. You were never meant to have this power in the first place. It’s time to set things right.”

And with that, the fight began.

The attackers moved swiftly, their weapons drawn as they closed in on you and Azriel. But this time, you didn’t hold back. The fear, the anger, the desperation—they all surged within you, fueling the flames that burned deep in your core.

With a fierce cry, you unleashed your power, the blue flames roaring to life around you. They danced along your skin, leaping from your hands like living fire, consuming everything in their path. The attackers recoiled in shock, their weapons faltering as they were met with the full force of your power.

Azriel fought beside you, his blades cutting through the air with lethal precision, but even he seemed momentarily taken aback by the sheer intensity of the flames. You were a force of nature, your power a blazing inferno that threatened to consume everything in its wake.

The man at the center watched with a dark satisfaction, his eyes gleaming as if this was exactly what he had hoped for. “Yes… that’s it, Y/N. Embrace it. Feel its power.”

But you didn’t care about his words. All you cared about was ending this, about saving Alex and stopping these monsters from taking what was yours.

The fight was brutal, the clearing filled with the sounds of clashing steel and the roar of your flames. The attackers were skilled, but they were no match for you and Azriel. One by one, they fell, their bodies consumed by the fire that raged from your very soul.

But even as you fought, you could feel the strain of your power, the way it threatened to overwhelm you. The flames were wild, untamed, and with each passing moment, it became harder to control them.

Azriel noticed your struggle, his eyes flicking to you with concern even as he parried another strike. “Y/N, you need to be careful!”

But there was no time to be careful. The flames were a part of you, and they demanded to be unleashed.

With a final, desperate surge, you directed the flames toward the man who had started it all. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on yours, a twisted smile on his lips as the fire engulfed him.

But instead of being consumed, the flames seemed to pass through him, as if he were made of smoke and shadow. His laughter echoed through the clearing, cold and cruel.

“You can’t destroy me, Y/N. I’m a part of you, just as that power is. This isn’t over.”

And then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, vanishing into the shadows like a wisp of smoke.

The clearing fell silent, the last of the attackers lying motionless on the ground. You stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps, the flames slowly dying down as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.

Azriel was at your side in an instant, his hands steady as he reached out to you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but the truth was, you didn’t know. Everything you had just learned, everything you had just felt—it was too much, too overwhelming.

“He was trying to take my power,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “He… he said it wasn’t meant for me. That it was supposed to be for something else.”

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, his eyes fierce. “Whatever he’s after, we’ll stop him. But right now, we need to find Alex.”

You nodded, the urgency of the situation crashing back over you. There was no time to dwell on the darkness that had been revealed. Alex was still out there, and he needed you.

Together, you and Azriel began to move through the clearing, your steps determined as you pushed forward, deeper into the forest, toward whatever lay ahead.

But in the back of your mind, the man’s words echoed, a chilling reminder of the power that burned within you, and the shadowy forces that sought to claim it.

The clearing where you had fought was eerily silent now, the only sound the crackling of dying flames as they consumed the last remnants of your enemies. The bodies of those who had attacked you lay scattered across the ground, their lifeless forms a stark reminder of the danger that still loomed over you. But there was no time to linger, no time to dwell on the bloodshed. Alex was still out there, somewhere in the darkness, and every second that passed felt like an eternity.

Azriel’s shadows, which had been so fiercely active during the battle, now swirled around him with a newfound urgency, their tendrils reaching out as if searching for something—someone. His face was set in grim determination, his eyes scanning the area as the two of you moved deeper into the forest.

“We need to keep moving,” Azriel said, his voice tight with controlled emotion. “There’s a chance they’ve taken him further into the woods, or they could have hidden him somewhere nearby.”

You nodded, gripping the hilts of your swords tightly as you followed him, every muscle in your body tense and ready for another fight. The forest was dense, the trees towering above you like silent sentinels, their branches intertwining to form a dark, shadowy canopy that blocked out much of the light.

As you pushed forward, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. The man’s words echoed in your mind, his cruel smile etched into your memory. He had known you would come, had been expecting you—and that realization gnawed at you like a persistent, unwelcome thought.

Your power, the blue flames that had always been a part of you, had never felt so dangerous, so out of control. The way they had surged during the fight, the way they had nearly overwhelmed you—it was as if they were responding to something deep within you, something that was tied to the very essence of who you were.

But there was no time to think about that now. Alex needed you, and you couldn’t afford to lose focus.

“Anything?” you asked, your voice strained as you glanced at Azriel.

He shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “Nothing yet. But my shadows are restless. They’re picking up traces of something… I just can’t tell what it is.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to push back the rising tide of fear that threatened to consume you. The forest was vast, and the shadows seemed to stretch on forever, offering no clues, no signs of where Alex might be.

You moved silently through the underbrush, your steps light and careful as you searched for any trace of the boy who had become so dear to you. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a nightbird.

But then, as you rounded a bend in the forest, you felt it—a faint pulse, like a whisper in the back of your mind. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there, tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching as the feeling grew stronger, more insistent. It was the same sensation you had felt before, during the battle, when your power had surged uncontrollably. But now it was different—focused, directed.

“Azriel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I think… I think I can sense something.”

He turned to you, his expression sharpening as he caught the change in your demeanor. “What is it?”

You closed your eyes, focusing on the sensation, letting it guide you. It was like a thread, thin and fragile, leading you deeper into the forest. “This way,” you said, your voice steadier now as you began to move in the direction the feeling was pulling you.

Azriel fell into step beside you, his shadows flaring around him as if they, too, could sense what you were feeling. The air grew colder as you pushed forward, the trees growing thicker, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.

And then you saw it—a faint glow, just ahead, barely visible through the dense foliage. It was faint, but unmistakable—a soft, bluish light that pulsed gently, like the heartbeat of the forest itself.

You exchanged a glance with Azriel, your heart pounding in your chest as you both moved closer. The glow grew brighter as you approached, and soon you found yourself standing at the edge of a small, hidden glade, the light emanating from a cluster of stones arranged in a rough circle.

But there was no sign of Alex.

Your heart sank, disappointment and fear washing over you in equal measure. The glow, while mysterious, offered no immediate answers, no indication of where he might be.

But you couldn’t give up, not now. Not when you were so close.

Azriel’s hand rested on your shoulder, his touch grounding you as he spoke. “This might be connected to your power. We need to figure out what this is—what it means.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you stepped into the glade, the soft light bathing you in its eerie glow. The stones were ancient, their surfaces worn smooth by time, but the air around them buzzed with a faint energy, as if they were alive with the power they had absorbed over the centuries.

The feeling inside you grew stronger, more insistent, and as you reached out to touch one of the stones, the blue flames flickered to life along your fingertips, responding to the energy that pulsed within the earth.

And in that moment, you understood.

This place, this glade—it was a focal point, a convergence of power, tied to the very essence of the land. The energy here was connected to you, to the flames that had always been a part of you. It was as if the earth itself was calling to you, resonating with the power you carried within.

But there was more—something hidden, something buried deep within the stones, within the earth itself.

You closed your eyes, letting the flames guide you as you reached deeper, past the physical, into the very fabric of the world. And then, like a sudden flash of lightning, you saw it—a vision, fleeting but clear.

Alex, bound and unconscious, his small form huddled at the base of one of the stones. He was alive, but barely. The man from the clearing stood over him, his smile cruel as he whispered words of power, words that resonated with the energy of the glade.

And then the vision was gone, leaving you gasping, your hands trembling as you pulled back from the stone.

“Y/N,” Azriel’s voice was urgent, filled with concern as he knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

You met his gaze, your voice shaking as you spoke. “They’re using this place… to drain him, to take what’s left of his life. We have to find him. We’re running out of time.”

Azriel’s expression hardened, his shadows flaring with a newfound intensity. “Then we’ll tear this forest apart if we have to. We won’t leave without him.”

With renewed determination, the two of you pressed on, the urgency of the situation propelling you forward. You knew now that this was all connected to the power within you, the power that the man had spoken of—the power that they sought to claim.

But you wouldn’t let them. You couldn’t.

And as the light of the glade faded behind you, you knew that the final confrontation was drawing near. The stakes had never been higher, and the cost of failure would be more than you could bear.

But you were ready to face it, ready to fight with everything you had.

For Alex.

For the power that was yours.

For the future that still lay ahead.

The forest seemed to close in around you as you and Azriel followed the trail of energy that pulsed through the earth, guiding you deeper into the shadows. Every step felt like a lifetime, the weight of the urgency pressing down on you with an unbearable intensity. The vision of Alex, bound and helpless, was burned into your mind, driving you forward with a desperation that bordered on madness.

You could feel the power growing stronger, the pulse of the glade’s energy resonating within you as you neared your destination. The trees thinned, the darkness deepening until it felt like the night itself was pressing against your skin. And then, through the tangled branches and dense underbrush, you saw it—a faint, flickering light, barely visible through the gloom.

Azriel’s shadows surged around him as he moved ahead, his blades drawn, ready for whatever awaited. You followed, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed through the last of the trees and into a small, hidden clearing.

There, in the center of the clearing, was Alexander.

He was bound to one of the ancient stones, his small body slumped forward, his head hanging low as if he were unconscious. The soft, blue glow of the glade’s energy pulsed around him, a cruel mockery of the life that was slipping away from him with every passing second.

The man from the clearing stood over him, his cruel smile gone, replaced by a look of cold satisfaction. He didn’t even flinch as you and Azriel burst into the clearing, his eyes locking onto yours with a chilling certainty.

“You’re too late,” he said, his voice calm, almost indifferent. “The ritual is nearly complete. The boy’s life force will feed the power that should have been yours.”

Rage unlike anything you had ever felt surged through you, the flames roaring to life around your hands, brighter and more intense than ever before. “Get away from him!” you screamed, the flames flaring outward, sending a wave of heat crashing through the clearing.

Azriel moved to attack, his shadows lashing out with deadly precision, but the man was ready. With a wave of his hand, a barrier of dark energy sprang up, deflecting the shadows and pushing you both back.

“No!” you cried, your voice breaking as you tried to push forward, tried to reach Alex. But the barrier held firm, the dark energy crackling with malevolent power.

The man’s smile returned, a twisted, mocking grin. “This power was never meant for you, Y/N. It’s too dangerous, too wild. But with the boy’s life force, it can be controlled, harnessed. And you will be free of it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, panic and desperation clawing at you as you tried to break through the barrier. The flames danced around you, wild and uncontrollable, but the barrier remained unyielding.

And then, in a moment of pure, blinding rage, you unleashed everything.

The flames surged, a torrent of blue fire that crashed against the barrier with a force that shook the earth. The energy crackled, the barrier faltering for a moment under the sheer intensity of your power.

But it was too late.

The ritual was complete.

The dark energy surrounding the stone flared, a final burst of power that shot through Alex’s small form like a bolt of lightning. His body jerked, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered open, just for a moment.

Azriel had been fighting beside you, the darkness of the forest closing in around him as the battle raged. His blades had sung through the air, his shadows twisting and writhing like living entities, seeking out the enemies that surrounded you both. He had been prepared for anything—anything but this.

The moment he saw the clearing, his heart had dropped. The man who had haunted your recent days stood over Alex’s frail, bound form, and every instinct in Azriel screamed to rush forward, to tear the man apart and rescue the boy. But the barrier of dark energy that crackled to life between you and your enemies held him back, keeping him from reaching you.

Azriel’s shadows lashed out, trying to find a way through, but the barrier deflected them, pushing him back as if mocking his efforts. The anger, the helplessness, all swirled inside him, a storm of emotions that he could barely control. He could see you, your face twisted in fear and fury as you tried to break through the barrier with your flames, the blue fire roaring around you like a living force.

But it wasn’t enough.

He watched, heart pounding, as the ritual continued, the dark energy pulsing through Alex’s small body. Azriel could see the life force being drained from him, could see the way his fragile form shuddered under the weight of the power that was being ripped from him.

And then, with a final surge, you broke through. The barrier shattered under the force of your flames, and you were beside Alex in an instant, cradling his small body in your arms. Azriel moved to follow, but something in the air—something in the very essence of the forest—stopped him cold.

He stood there, on the edge of the clearing, his shadows swirling around him in agitation as he watched you hold Alex close. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the way your hands trembled as you tried to summon the flames that had always been there for you, the flames that had always healed.

But they wouldn’t come.

Azriel’s heart twisted painfully as he realized what was happening. The ritual, whatever it was, had drained the power from the glade, from the very earth itself. The flames that had always been a part of you were gone, leaving you defenceless, helpless, as you held the boy you had sworn to protect.

“Y/N…” Azriel whispered, but his voice was lost in the wind, carried away by the darkness that surrounded you both.

And then Alex spoke, his voice weak, barely more than a whisper. “I’m sorry… I won’t be there… for your wedding… with Azriel.”

The words hit Azriel like a physical blow, the weight of them crashing over him as he stood frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe. He could see the pain in your eyes, the way your tears fell onto Alex’s pale face as you tried to comfort him, tried to reassure him that he would be there, that everything would be alright.

But Azriel knew the truth.

The boy was dying.

And then it happened.

The bond snapped into place with a force that took Azriel’s breath away. It was like a thunderclap in his mind, a sudden, overwhelming rush of emotion and sensation that left him reeling. He felt it in every fiber of his being, a connection so deep, so profound, that it was as if the very fabric of his soul had been intertwined with yours.

The bond pulsed through him, raw and powerful, and with it came the crushing realisation that you were his mate. You were the one he was destined to be with, the one he had been searching for his entire life. And yet, in that moment, as he looked at you holding Alex’s lifeless body, he felt nothing but pain.

It was unbearable, the way the bond twisted inside him, demanding that he move, that he comfort you, that he do something—anything—to ease the agony he could see etched into every line of your face. But he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed, rooted to the spot by the shock of the bond, by the sight of you in your worst moment, a moment that he was powerless to stop.

He wanted to reach out, to take you into his arms, to tell you that it would be alright, that he was here, that he would always be here. But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in his throat, choked off by the crushing weight of the bond that had snapped into place far too late.

And you didn’t feel it. He could see that in the way your eyes were glazed with grief, in the way you held Alex close, as if by sheer will alone you could bring him back. The bond was there, burning through Azriel with a force that was almost unbearable, but you were too lost in your sorrow to recognize it, too overwhelmed by the loss of the boy you had loved like a brother, like a son.

Azriel could do nothing but watch, his heart breaking as he saw you in this state, the woman he was bound to, the woman who was his mate, cradling the dead body of a child who had been your world. It was as if the ground had been ripped out from under him, leaving him falling, spiraling into a darkness that he couldn’t escape.

He was supposed to protect you, supposed to be your partner, your equal, but in this moment, he felt like nothing more than a bystander, watching helplessly as the woman he loved was torn apart by grief.

The shadows around him flickered, faltered, as if reflecting the turmoil inside him. The bond pulsed again, demanding that he move, that he act, but he was frozen, unable to do anything but stand there, his heart shattering with every sob that wracked your body.

He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart, to bring Alexander back if only to see you smile again. But there was nothing he could do, nothing that would bring the light back into your eyes, nothing that could undo the damage that had been done.

And so he stood there, helpless, broken, as the bond that tied him to you pulsed through him with every beat of his heart—a cruel reminder of the love that had come too late.

---

notes: pretty hard chapter for me to write, but I feel like it was something that had to happen for the overall story. After writing the part 9, I was honestly heart broken... I still hope that you enjoy this part, we have 5 more (+ epilogue) to do until the end of the story. If you guys have any request don't hesitate ;) See you soon <3

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells @shizukestar @rose-girls-world @brit-broskis-cole-fanfic @faridathefairy @elsie-bells @faridathefairy @wolfbc97 @rcarbo1 @kitsunetori @hufflepuff-pa55 @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @sometimeseverythingsucks @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @lilah-asteria @fightmedraco

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[mastercucco]

Hateno Boy - Part 1 - Link x Reader

The Calamity is gone, but so is Link’s purpose. He feels completely lost in post-Calamity Hyrule where everyone but him seem to have found their new place.

It certainly doesn’t help his restless nights that you, a young Hylian whom Zelda has hired as the new teacher at Hateno School, are slowly taking up more and more of his headspace with each conversation you two have.

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / Tears of the Kingdom Pairing: Link x fem!Reader Raiting: Mature (might go up, might go down, let's see) Contains: feel-good, slow burn romance; platonic Link/Zelda; Link being an angsty retired hero Chapter Index | Read on Ao3 A/N: Very excited to write something possibly disgustingly cute. The story takes place after the events in BotW but before the beginning of TotK. All characters are adults! I hope you enjoy the story! xx

Chapter 1 - Purpose

Contains: Link being an angsty retired hero; Zelda being embarrassed by Link's inability to talk to girls (or other human beings in general) Word count: ~1,3k A/N: Please look past any weird sentences, English isn't my first language :p

A breath of warm air blows from the sea, gentle on skin and smelling of sea salt. The wind hurries over the hills of Necluda, tall grass bowing before it like waves on an emerald green ocean. Once it reaches Link sitting on top of the hills, it gently tugs on his hair and pushes his hood down.

He has been sitting there for quite some time now – so long that the tips of his ears are starting to redden from the wind, as gentle as it is. The sun that was high up when he arrived at the hills, is now hanging low over the horizon. It is soon time for him to go; Zelda asked him in the morning to stop by the school before sundown.

He is alone, as he is on most days nowadays. There isn’t much for him to do: Zelda is busy rebuilding Hateno, the recently finished village school her new pride and joy. And when she isn’t mingling with the villagers, she’s kept busy with her research at the Tech Lab. She doesn’t require an escort anymore, not after Purah hired a young researcher to assist them decipher ancient Zonai texts anyway. The man rarely leaves Zelda’s side when the two of them are together – which is often. Very often.

Link was jealous at first. After all, he is the Princess’ appointed knight, and he is the one who wields the Master Sword, and he is the one who saved Zelda’s life – not some overly excited, self-proclaimed explorer with a stupidly tall frame and an apparent distaste for wearing upper garments that hide his muscles.

Eventually, his jealousy morphed into loneliness – something he did a terrible job of hiding from Zelda. She asked him if he wanted to return to Hyrule Castle to help the Royal Guard in training new soldiers. Link said no, that he likes it here in Hateno.

“I wouldn’t mind if you go,” Zelda said, gently placing her hand on top of his, “I can see how lost you are here.”

Somehow, Zelda seeing straight through his lies and offering him kindness hurt more than her asking Link to leave in the first place. After that, Link couldn’t help but feel even more uncertain and disconnected. Everyone had seemingly moved on, everyone but him. While he still remains close with Zelda, honoring his duty, accompanying her whenever she travels outside of Hateno, even living with her, he knows deep down that she doesn’t need him anymore. The Calamity is gone, and so is his purpose.

The sun hangs low when Link arrives at Hateno School. The sky is flaring in shades of red, reminding Link of a cozy fire under a cooking pot – somewhere he would much prefer to be. The school’s front doors are open, but the playground is silent and the windows are dark, all except one. It has been a while since Link last visited the school. The children adore him, which is exactly why he prefers to stay away. Their looks of admiration and curious questions make him uneasy. Ever since moving to Hateno, all he has wanted is to lay low, going as far as to hide his head-turning Champion’s tunic in the bottom of his drawer. He wanted to throw the tunic away, but Zelda wouldn’t let him.

He can already hear Zelda’s excited chattering when he reaches the open doors and quietly steps inside. Zelda is having an eager conversation with a young Hylian woman – you – whom Link doesn’t remember seeing before. He does remember Zelda telling him about a new teacher she hired a few months back, and he figures it must be you.

You notice Link arriving before Zelda does and give him a polite smile in greeting. Only when he lightly taps on Zelda’s shoulder does she stop talking and turn around.

“Oh, Link,” she smiles. “You have impeccable timing. We were just talking about you!”

Link furrows his brow. Great, just great, he thinks, already feeling the tips of his ears growing warmer.

“Only good things,” you assure with an awkward laugh. “The Princess told me you made the apple pie she brought the other day.”

Link hopes that the dim light of the oil lamps is enough to hide his red ears. He clears his throat, though not even intending to say anything.

“I don’t think you two have met before, have you?” Zelda says, giving Link an encouraging nudge.

Even after all the years spent in royal banquets practicing formal pleasantries with Hyrule’s nobility, Link still feels awkward having to introduce himself. Nonetheless, he extends his hand for a greeting. When you offer him yours, he brings it to his lips and gives your knuckles a polite kiss. Your skin feels soft and pleasant, he thinks, now horribly self-aware of just how sweaty his own palm is.

When he looks back at you, even he can pick up the awkward tension in your smile and words as you introduce yourself. He feels his whole face heat up, not really understanding what he did wrong but knowing he must have, because even Zelda has the same tension in her smile as you do.

“He is very accustomed to his formal greetings from his days at the Castle,” Zelda says with a forced smile and gives Link a look. Only then does he realize that a hand kiss, though adequate in greeting a noble woman, is not something you, a village school teacher, was expecting from a Royal Knight. He would apologize, but his mouth is dry and no words come out.

“And, well, you probably already know of Link,” Zelda breaks the uncomfortable silence after it becomes clear Link isn’t going to introduce himself.

“The Hero of Hyrule,” you say, knowingly. “We have actually met before.”

We have? Link thinks, the heat of embarrassment getting unbearable. All he wants to do is run home and hide under his bed covers for the rest of eternity. This is why he rarely leaves their home or willingly socializes with the villagers. He would cringe if he wasn’t too embarrassed to move his face muscles.

“You have?” asks Zelda out loud, her disapproving eyes boring into Link’s.

“It was years ago,” you are quick to add. “He took refuge in our family home once. I wouldn’t blame him for not remembering.”

Zelda doesn’t appear quite as understanding when she shoots another scolding look at Link, the pink in her own cheeks deepening as well. “Please,” she says as she turns back to you, ��accept my apology. Link can be awfully forgetful sometimes.” She gives him a final glare that, at last, makes him drop his head. He’s not sure if dying of embarrassment is a real occurrence, but if it is, then he must be very close to leaving Hyrule for good.

“It’s quite alright, Your Highness,” you say with a slightly uneasy laugh that fails to fully mask your discomfort. “I don’t mind it, really. Like I said, it was years ago.”

There is an uncomfortable silence between the three of you. Then Zelda claps her hands, and the tension breaks like a taut rubber band. Link sighs, relieved.

“Well,” Zelda says, “now that we are done with introductions, perhaps we can show Link the curriculum we’ve been working on? I’m sure he can give us his opinion on the section about monster parts and their usage in elixirs.”

When you turn to look for something from your writing table’s drawers, Link grabs Zelda’s sleeve and gives her a pleading look. Zelda narrows her eyes and shakes her head.

“Do not even think of fleeing” she hisses in his ear before she hurries over to you to help you with a pile of scrolls close to toppling over. Link lets out a silent grunt and looks longingly at the open doors. The sun has gone down, the sky now the same shade as embers cooling down under a cooking pot – somewhere he would much prefer to be.

Chapter 2 - Heromania »