the dragon and the maiden fair — gojo satoru.
Kneeling before you, Satoru worshiped at the altar of your body with reverence, his mouth and tongue offering devotion. Your moans, sweet music to his ears, spurred him on. You gripped the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The sensation, whether painful or not, thrilled him to the core. He liked the pleasure of pain. He liked it rough, as you well know.
Genre: Alternate Universe — ASOIAF
Warning/s: Alternate Universe, R-18, Smut, Explicit Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Romance, Servant!Reader, Targaryen Prince! Satoru, Pet Names, Fluff, Praise, Breeding, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie Possessiveness, Mentions of Historical Notes, Mentions of Body Parts, Mention of Sexual Acts, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of Marriage;
Words: 5k words.
masterlist
kayu's playlist - side 800;
note: im sorry i haven't posted this yet. it took a while because tumblr isn't working well. can anyone help me cause tumblr isn't letting me see images and gifs right now??? this is really a pain. but if you guys have tips, let me know! anyway, i love you all!!! <3
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SUCH A THING WAS UNEXPECTED TO PRINCE SATORU TARGARYEN. If one would have asked him what he wanted all these years ago — he would have said to do his duty to the realm. To ride his dragon off to battle, to enjoy the bounty of his position until he died. Yet, as he took in the moment between you and him, basking in the beam of moonlight — he found himself thinking that this was more than enough. Nothing else mattered in the world. Just the two of you making for a merry bunch, over spiced wine under the moonlight..
His bright blue gaze remarked each movement of your face as laughter echoed at each and every joke, every quip. There was true joy in the beams of your eyes. Satoru Targaryen must admit that he thinks no one has ever truly looked at him with such warmth. No one had ever been this joyful being by his side. No one but you.
You were a common lady, one he shouldn’t even be associating with as a prince. But he found himself enthralled with you. It was as if the flame in him burns if you were there to cause the fury that keeps him alive. He thinks that he found it in the way your hands moved, rubbing itself together with each laughing fit. It was in the way a small bridge forming in your lips folding into a pout roused him with great joy. It was the way your tender hands held him as though he was the most fragile thing in the world.
Every sight of you since he had met you was enough to rush his mood away from the bleak nature of his world spinning onto the void of oblivion. All had been forgotten. His pains of being the most powerful, lonely man in the world. His anger at his father’s debauchery. His grief at the curse of his power, of his position. Since then, in his world, there is only your warmth melting his cold heart little by little.
Satoru was honest when he said that he had known many women and men. At times, he still meets them and knows he has the power to compel them to his bed. To warm his cold bed with the flames that equate his own. Yet none could match your vivacity, your grace or your intelligence. None of them were you. None of them were his maiden fair. None had pierced his heart deeper than the words you gave him each morrow, in his arms, with your warmest tone.
Satoru thinks that you were made for him.
You were given shape to be the one for him.
To love him, to warm him, to bring him to life.
Nothing in the world can make him leave you.
Many had spoken of their concern to him, consorting with a common lady. It was unbecoming, unprecedented for a prince of Dragonstone to be so enthralled with a woman of unequal status. But Satoru thinks he dares not listen. What did these old men know about you? What did these fools know about love? What did they know about the truth of human life? None. No one did. Only he did. Because he had you. You were the truth of human life. You were his life.
It was easy to feel alive when you were the most gentle of all the flowers in this garden. He remembers when he first met you. Eyes gleaming with morning dew, the way your fingers touched the small blossom of white roses springing across the most beautiful gardens. Your beauty was the wonder of humankind. He felt like he was struck by love at that moment.
Your long glistening hair blossomed like a parting flower, beckoning a dance between the wind and your gentle touch. His eyes widened, lips flew apart. The heart thumped against his chest loudly, beat after beat, which made him latch onto his chest. It hurts to see you walk away. From that moment on, he was resolute to find you. He was resolute to have the woman he loved in his arms.
Moon after moon was a disappointment, to be sure. He had found himself unable to find you, even with his most trusted servants looking for you. And in that time, life of the royal court had become placid, cold with the loss of warmth, of reasons. Each day, the throne felt more like his prison than his birthright. He hated how it was. How lonely it was without you.
When he had found you again, he was astounded. You were now working within the palace, as his sister’s maid. It was wonderful for him. Each day, he had invited his sister to join him to break their fast together. And each morning, he could not stop his eyes from wandering towards you. He was sure that all had noticed how enamored he was with you. And he was not shy to deny his fondness, his affections.
You have been mortified that the prince of Dragonstone was willing to put himself in your way and bend to you — a common born lady, with nothing but the clothes on your back. You were a baseborn young maiden. You don't even know who your mother and father were. You felt unworthy of his affections. He was a prince. And you were nothing, you should be nothing. But that did not deter him. And slowly but surely, his charm, his tenderness, his truthfulness, his love — it all won you over.
“You have given me too much wine.” You say to him.
He grins at you. “You are fond of it, are you not? To taste it from my mouth.”
“I am.” You say as your reddened cheeks grew redder yet. “It is late now, isn’t it, my prince?”
He nodded back to you, his thumb wiping the side of your cheek. There was a stain of the wine. “Yes, it is past midnight now.”
“Oh my!” You hiccuped in between. “I feel as though I am drunk now.”
“Yes, my maiden fair. You are drunk with a merry drink.” He cooes at you, bright cerulean eyes beaming at you. “You were so beautiful with each drink, my maiden fair.”
You laugh once more. “Well, I do not mind, my prince. It is merrier with you. Everything is.”
“I should say the same.” He smiles fondly, so warmly towards you.
Both had taken a step out of his chambers in days, enjoying each other’s company in the most intimate sensuality. His duties keep him away from you more often than he would have hoped. And with his taking of you under the nose of all these bothersome fools, he thought to keep you away from court and keep you in Dragonstone. At times, he knows you get lonely with him being summoned to do his duties at court. But he was thankful that you bear with him. You love him and it was enough. It was more than enough.
His head rested upon your bare belly, as he watched his dragon fly among the smallest birds that fly within the keep most days. He ate at your womanhood like a starved man, over and over again. He enjoyed how you pulled at his silver hair over and over again, crying and weeping. When you were exhausted from pleasure, he would find himself cleaning you and caring for you. He asks the servants to send up some food for the two of you and he feeds you. He does not want you to move one single muscle, one single hand, or finger. He wanted to pamper you, pleasure you. Love you every single day.
One of these days, he had heard that he had been once more summoned by his father at court. But he did not care.. Not when in his arms glowed a most beautiful marvel, laced in endless Tyroshi silk, your body as soft as a feather’s touch. He was happy to stay here in your arms. You did not mind if he worked on his scrolls in bed. He was enthralled watching you read missives for him too. It was too much work, to leave you again. That he was not much willing to do.
“I do not think the court likes me very much.” You whispered, resting your head against his warm body. “Nor your father the king.”
He laughs, his hands pushing away your long hair from your cheek. “My maiden fair, I do not care what anyone else thinks.”
“But it is a stain on your reputation, Satoru—”
“As if none of these bastards have mistresses of their own common lady as their second wives. Mayhaps even whores.” He scoffs, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Loyalty is not their strong suit, my love. But it is mine. I will not forsake you. You are and never will be my stain. You are my love. Only mine.”
You feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, a soothing balm against the doubts that cling to your heart. Satoru's touch is gentle, his fingers tracing patterns along your jawline, as if to erase the worries etched upon your face.
"I fear they will try to tear us apart, my prince." you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the court's judgment lingers in the air, a heavy presence that threatens to suffocate the fragile happiness you've found in his arms.
Satoru's eyes meet yours, a fierce determination burning within their depths. "Let them try, my maiden fair." he replies, his voice a low rumble that resonates with unwavering confidence. "I have faced countless adversaries, and none have succeeded in separating me from what I hold dear. And you, you are the one I hold most dear.”
You marvel at his unwavering resolve, the strength that radiates from him like a beacon in the darkness. In his presence, the world feels a little less daunting, and your fears begin to dissipate, replaced by a flicker of hope. He was all you had, your beautiful, powerful prince. And he wanted you. For bitter or for worse, for good or for greater. He will want you, he will love you.
"Do you truly believe we can overcome this?" you ask, seeking reassurance in his steady gaze.
He cups your face in his hands, his touch tender yet firm. "I believe in us, my love." he declares, his words a promise woven into the fabric of your shared future. "No matter the trials we face, I will fight for you, for us. Together, we are unbreakable."
Your heart swells with a mixture of gratitude and love, a potent blend that binds you to him in ways words can scarcely capture. In this moment, beneath the weight of a disapproving court and a king who remains an enigma, you find solace in the unwavering devotion of the man who holds your heart.
“Will you fight for me too, hm?” His cerulean eyes search your own, expectantly. “Will you fight for your prince?”
"I will fight for you, my prince. My Satoru." you vow, your voice steady and resolute. "For us."
With a soft smile, Satoru leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that speaks of promises and dreams yet to be realized. All that was left was passion, bountiful love as you returned the kiss while shutting your eyes and letting yourself be completely removed from reality.
They were turned over as he leaned over you without severing their kiss. His right hand was entangled in your fine long hair, while the other nuzzled your face as if he wanted to close his eyes and recall your beauty. Although he was certain that nothing about you would be easily forgotten.
You ended the kiss, taking in air.
His bright blue never leaves you.
He was hungry for more of you.
You breathed deeply and gazed at him with your wanton eyes. "I want you to take me. Make me your wife, even just tonight, my prince.”
You hitched a breath as he delicately caressed the firm line of your jaw with his thumb. You feel like you were on fire, whenever you were with him. "My maiden fair. I’ve wanted to make you my wife all this time. You do not need pretense.”
“I cannot—”
He moves forward, placing kisses on your neck. You moan. “I will not let you go because some fool says no. I am Satoru, prince of Dragonstone. The first of the name. The man who will be king. I have a dragon who’s seen many battles. Anyone who dares say no to me, say no to our marriage. They will face my love. Do not care for their worries. Love me instead. Make love to your husband, your prince. Your king.”
Your heart races at his words, a mix of desire and disbelief flooding your senses. Satoru’s confidence is intoxicating, a force that draws you closer to him, erasing the barriers that have kept you apart.
“Tonight, let there be no doubts, my maiden fair.” he murmurs against your skin, his lips tracing a path of fire down your neck. His hands cradle your face with a tenderness that contrasts the fervor of his words.
You close your eyes, surrendering to the sensation of his touch, the world around you fading into insignificance. In this moment, there is only Satoru, his presence enveloping you like a cloak of protection and love.
“But what of the court? The king?” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you cling to the last vestiges of reason.
Satoru pulls back slightly, his gaze capturing yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. “Let them watch and whisper,” he declares, his voice firm and unyielding. “I will not be swayed by their disapproval. My heart belongs to you, and nothing will change that.”
His words ignite a spark within you, a courage that had lain dormant now awakening with fervor. You reach up, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as you press your lips to his, pouring all your love and longing into the kiss.
Satoru responds with equal fervor, his hands roaming your body, claiming you as his own. The world outside ceases to exist, and in this private sanctuary, you find solace in the certainty of his love.
“I love you,” you whisper between kisses, the words a sacred vow.
He smiles against your lips, a warmth radiating from him that banishes all doubts. “And I you. my maiden fair, my little wife.” he replies, his voice a soft caress. “Tonight and forevermore, you are mine.”
Satoru leaned forward with intent, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. His hands traced every contour of your body, moving with purpose until they reached your thighs. You responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and threading your fingers through his silver hair, playing with the strands as he deepened the kiss.
After a while, he shifted his attention, trailing kisses down your neck and leaving marks that drew soft moans from your lips. His focus moved lower, drawn to the beauty of your form even in the dim candlelight. Your full, enticing curves were a sight that made his heart race.
Taking his time, Satoru kissed his way down your thighs and legs, committing each inch to memory. He felt as if he had ascended to the heavens, feasting on the divine bounty laid before him. He takes and he takes — greedily as he can. Each sound from you egged him on. Faster and then harsher, then deeper.
The reality of your shared intimacy was something he never dared to dream of, when he first met you. But now none will stop him. Now he has had a taste of you, now that he has had plenty, he wants more of you. He wanted more and more. He was greedy when it came to you. His maiden fair.
He pulled back momentarily, observing your flushed face and the gentle pants escaping your lips. With renewed passion, he captured your mouth once more, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, eliciting a quiet whimper from you. As he broke the kiss, his gaze roamed your body, filled with longing and desire. He carefully lifted the hem of your nightgown, revealing the sacred beauty beneath. The beauty that can only truly belong to him.
Kneeling before you, Satoru worshiped at the altar of your body with reverence, his mouth and tongue offering devotion. Your moans, sweet music to his ears, spurred him on. You gripped the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The sensation, whether painful or not, thrilled him to the core. He liked the pleasure of pain. He liked it rough, as you well know.
Lost in the moment, you cried out in pleasure, surrendering to the wave of bliss that overtook you. Satoru reveled in your cries, cherishing every moment as he savored the gift of your shared passion, holding nothing back in this sacred exchange. If there was such a thing as the Maiden, then you were her best creature. You were her best daughter. The daughter he wants to claim, to breed, to make his own.
Satoru's kisses were fervent, igniting a fire that spread through your veins. His calloused, warm hands roamed your body with a confidence born from knowing every sensitive spot, every curve that made you sigh and arch toward him. He let a small laugh release from his mouth. You were getting too eager for your own good.
As he worshiped your skin with his lips, you felt the heat of his breath against your thighs, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. Your lover was generous, he always was. He cared more for your pleasure than his own, that was truly certain to you. But he has too much energy. He was relentless in making you find your pleasure as much as he had time and energy to spend. You really don’t want to complain. Your prince was too much of a good lover, he loved you.
Your hands tugged at his silver hair, urging him closer, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he drew closer to your core. With a reverent touch, he parted your legs, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you, laid bare before him. His mouth descended, and you cried out, your back arching in response to the exquisite sensation of his tongue tracing intimate paths along your skin.
Your Satoru was relentless, his lips and tongue moving in a dance of worship that left you breathless, lost in a haze of pleasure. Every flick and caress was an echo of his devotion. Each layer broken, each layer conquered connected you deeper to him. He wanted more of you, wanted to discover depths of your cunt that he could make his.
Your small hands clutched at him desperately, nails grazing his scalp as he drove you closer to the edge. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans and gasps, eliciting that inflamed passion that burned between you. You could feel him laugh once more. He was pleased, you think. He discovered another depth of you.
“Please, my love, my prince.” you murmured, a plea that was both a prayer and a command, and Satoru answered with renewed fervor, his touch becoming more insistent, more urgent. He wanted to claim you, to make you his in every sense of the word. “My Satoru!”
“Come, my maiden fair. Feel me whole, my wife. Feel my tongue in you, hm?”
With a final cry, you surrendered to the wave of ecstasy that swept over you, your body shuddering in release as Satoru held you close. His touch was both reassuring and possessive, his powerful presence enveloping you completely. As you reached the peak of pleasure, your body trembled uncontrollably, every nerve alight with the intensity of your climax.
Satoru’s lips were a gentle contrast to his earlier dominance, brushing against your skin as he whispered sweet promises in a voice that was both soothing and commanding. His words were a balm, a reminder of the connection that had brought you to this moment, and the promise of more to come.
His warm tongue traced along your skin, its path leaving a trail of sensation that enraptured you whole. The way he moved, the way his tongue explored every inch of you, was a testament to his unwavering attention and desire. It was as if he was savoring every moment, every taste, committing it to memory.
When he finally parted from you, his eyes met yours with a glint of satisfaction and pride. You could see the evidence of your shared pleasure, the way his chin was slick with your release, glistening in the dim light. The sight was both intimate and overwhelming, a reminder of the depth of your connection and the intensity of what you had just shared.
His expression was one of triumph, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he took in the sight of you, still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax. “Messy, aren’t we?” he teased, his voice a low, teasing drawl. “But oh, so satisfying, isn’t it?”
As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your ecstasy, Satoru shifted slightly, his movements deliberate and assured. His bright cerulean eyes, still locked on yours, held a promise of more to come, a flicker of desire reigniting as he positioned himself above you once again.
He leaned down, capturing your lips once more, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. The kiss was both possessive and tender, full of lust and desire for you. Only you. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve with a reverent touch, as if memorizing every inch of you all over again.
With a teasing smirk, Satoru broke the kiss, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Ready for more, maiden fair?” His voice was a deep, velvety growl, filled with anticipation and longing.
Before you could respond, he positioned himself at your entrance, you could feel it. You could feel his thick member pressing against you with an insistent pressure. The sensation sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, your body responding instinctively to the promise of what was to come.
Slowly, deliberately, your Satoru began to push inside you, his cock stretching you once more with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and fullness. The sensation was both familiar and overwhelming. You gasp aloud, as he stills. He was always too big. You feel that each time he claims you, it was a reminder of the power he held over you. A power you will always let him have.
He moved with a steady rhythm, his hips rolling with a controlled grace that left you breathless. Each thrust was a deliberate, measured stroke, filling you completely and driving you further into a haze of pleasure. The heat between you built once more, the friction of his movements reigniting the fire that had momentarily subsided. Your dragon burns you alive with his pleasure and you love it. You adore it.
Satoru’s gaze never left yours, his eyes dark and intense as he watched you with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. The way your body responded to him, the way you opened up to receive him. With every thrust, he drove you closer to the edge, your body arching and writhing beneath him in a dance of passion and surrender. The pleasure was all-consuming, each wave crashing over you with a force that left you gasping and yearning for more.
As your prince continued to move inside you, his pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with a renewed urgency. The room was filled with the sound of your burning passion, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Over and over. You could feel his weight press even more against your body as he dived further inside your cunny.
You could feel yourself nearing the edge once more, the heat and pressure building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you completely. Satoru seemed to sense this, his thrusts becoming more urgent and more demanding as he drove you both toward the end. The rhythm of his movements was relentless, each stroke pushing you closer to that precipice of bliss.
Your fingers tightened around him instinctively, holding on as if he were the only anchor in a sea of overwhelming sensation. His name spilled from your lips in a breathless chant, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through you with every thrust. Satoru’s body was a solid, reassuring presence above you, his muscles flexing with each powerful movement.
The intensity of his speed left you gasping, the relentless pace driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Your body responded eagerly, hips rising to meet each of his forceful thrusts as you clung to him desperately. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of moans and gasps that underscored the intensity of the moment.
Satoru’s focus was absolute, his blue haze locked on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a determination in his eyes, a promise that he would take you both to the heights of pleasure and beyond. Each movement was precise and calculated, his control and power evident in every thrust.
As you approached the peak, the flames of pleasure became all-consuming, it burned you. It drowned you in its tidal wave of sensation that threatened to sweep you both away. The heat and pressure reached a fever pitch, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of ecstasy.
With a final, powerful thrust, Satoru drove you both over the edge, the release crashing over you like a wave. Your body shuddered in his arms, the sensation so intense that it left you breathless and trembling. His own climax followed swiftly, his body tense and shaking as he joined you in the blissful release.
In the aftermath, you lay entwined, the world around you fading into insignificance. The pleasure had left you both utterly satisfied, your bodies still humming with the remnants of ecstasy. As your breaths slowly returned to normal, you found comfort in the warmth of his embrace. Satoru’s fingers gently caressed your skin, his touch a soothing balm in the wake of the storm. His presence was a comforting weight, your everything.
When he was finally relieved, your Satoru rose to meet your gaze, his eyes filled with a tender intensity that left you breathless. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, and you tasted the echoes of your own pleasure on his lips. With every touch, every whispered word, he made it clear that you were his world, his everything.
“Will you wed me? On the morrow?”
Satoru’s question hung in the air, a whisper filled with promise and longing. His eyes searched yours, looking for the answer he already knew but needed to hear. The sincerity in his gaze, the way he held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, made your heart swell with emotion.
“On the morrow?” you repeated, your voice a mixture of surprise and joy. It was a bold proposition, defying the expectations of the court and the king himself. Of the realm and tradition itself. Yet in Satoru’s arms, those concerns seemed distant, inconsequential.
“Yes, my love.” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I want the world to know that you are mine, not just in heart but in name. I want them to see you as my wife. Let them see the strength of our bond, the truth of our love.”
The thought of becoming his wife, of sharing a future together free from the shadows of secrecy, sent a thrill through you. You could imagine the look on the faces of those who doubted your place beside him, the satisfaction of proving them wrong with every step you took as his bride. You would become a princess, you would become his queen.
Your mouth opened for a moment, as though ready to say something. But you close it once again. You turned to him, looking into his blue eyes. They were ever so certain, already decided. Ever so clear. His love, it was only for you. His maiden fair. He was only waiting for you. A moment of silence passes you both by.
“I will, my love.” you answered, your voice filled with unwavering certainty. “I will wed you, Satoru, my love, my prince.”
His smile was radiant, a reflection of the joy that filled him. Your chest swells at the happiness that you could see in his face. You don’t think you have ever seen him this happy. He pulled you into another kiss, this one filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. It was a promise sealed with the warmth of his lips, a vow that transcended words.
“We will stand together, my love.” Satoru murmured against your mouth, his hands cradling your face with infinite care. “Through whatever flames may come, we will face them as one. I swear to you. I will choose only you.”
The certainty in his words, the unyielding strength of his conviction, wrapped around you like a protective embrace. In this moment, there was no room for doubt or fear—only the promise of a future where love triumphed over all.
As you lay entwined in each other’s arms, you felt a profound sense of peace, knowing that the morrow would bring a new beginning. The path ahead might be fraught with challenges, but with Satoru by your side, you were ready to face them all together. The dragon and the maiden fair.
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SEPFEMBER 2024 PROMPTS LIST
HERE WE ARE! AT LONG LAST! THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN (HOPEFULLY) WAITING FOR! GIRL MONTH!
I honestly can't believe this is actually happening. This event was a shower thought a few months ago.
Here's a recap of the event: to participate, make at least one fanwork of any variety during September that features a woman or women from the Zelda franchise as the main character/s. All Linksmeets are welcome in this challenge, as well as general LoZ fans!
Before I drop the prompts list for those who are looking for a little direction, I'd like to mention that I have made an AO3 COLLECTION FOR THIS EVENT. It's open and unmoderated so you can add your works to it freely. And if you post on tumblr, please tag #sepfember !! I'll be scrolling through the tag every day looking for things to reblog and gush about 👀
If you have any questions at all about this event, or you want to chat about it, my askbox is open! I will also respond to comments and reblogs of this post.
Now, onto the prompts. Disclaimer: you DON'T have to use all/any of these prompts, or only create things for certain characters on their featured day. This list is just a GUIDE for those who want it. If you have other plans, go with your heart!
At the end of the day, this is a celebration, and all that matters is that you have fun. I hope some of you will join me next month in giving our girls some time in the spotlight, but if you can't, that's okay! There's no pressure! This is just a passion project of mine, really, and I am overjoyed that people are interested 💛💛💛
(apologies in advance for the terrible quality of these pics and the equally terrible commentary. i thought it would be funny. also, i've never had to come up with a prompts list before and it shows.)
DAY 1: SKYWARD SWORD ZELDA + PURPOSE
(we start at the beginning of course 💛)
DAY 2: MARIN + WASH
(it was SO hard to find a screenshot of her that didn't have link in it. they're both cute but this ain't about him.)
DAY 3: MEDLI + GIFT
(i didn't know she played the harp until i saw this screenshot! i obviously have a lot to learn.)
DAY 4: TWILIGHT PRINCESS ZELDA + FREEZE
(how creepy does she look here?! so awesome)
DAY 5: HILDA + GHOST
(SUCH a good character for real. she has depth!!!! she has a thematic purpose!!!)
DAY 6: URBOSA + LOSE
(two words: LIGHTNING POWERS ⚡⚡⚡)
DAY 7: SPIRIT TRACKS ZELDA + MISTAKE
(babygirl you are 2 entire pixels.)
DAY 8: FI + ORDER
(oh she is everything to me)
DAY 9: MIDNA + SWORD
(she looks so soulful right now)
DAY 10: HYRULE WARRIORS ZELDA + SUMMON
(what a FIRE camera angle??? her armour is so impractically attached but SHE HAS A SWORD‼️)
DAY 11: GODDESSES OF HYRULE + EYES
(hylia, din, nayru, farore, the list goes on...)
DAY 12: ZORA PRINCESSES + TRUST
(mipha, ruto... poor suckers... it can't be fun, falling for link...)
DAY 13: OCARINA OF TIME ZELDA | SHEIK + FATE
(note: I personally hc this character as a trans man, but since this isn't explicitly confirmed in-game and might not be shared with everyone, I've given them a celebration day anyway. you are free to do what you wish.)
DAY 14: MALON + GUARD
(she is adorable. look at her)
DAY 15: IMPA + BOUND
(HOTTEST MOST SEXY MOST BADASS WOMAN IN THE FRANCHISE ‼️‼️‼️ I LOVE YOU IMPA YOU ARE PERFECT. SHUT UP I DEFINITELY DON'T PLAY FAVOURITES—)
DAY 16: FOUR SWORDS ADVENTURES ZELDA + PORTAL
(i loved her in the fsa manga. she's barely in it but STILL. go read it.)
DAY 17: FAIRIES + TIRED
(the great fairies, navi, ciela, tatl, proxi...)
DAY 18: TETRA + LEGACY
(isn't she KICKASS?!)
DAY 19: EPONA + BONE
(our lovely loyal girl 🥰)
DAY 20: A LINK BETWEEN WORLDS ZELDA + HOME
(SHE IS SUCH A GOOD PARALLEL TO HILDA PLEASSSSSE)
DAY 21: SARIA + WISH
(a classic character! isn't this picture so peaceful)
DAY 22: BOTW/AOC/TOTK ZELDA + PEACE
(SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME. SCREAMING CLAWING CRYING. MY DARLING, YOUR FANARTISTS WERE THE ONES TO DRAW ME INTO THE ZELDA FANDOM. I HOPE I CAN RETURN THE FAVOUR ONE DAY)
DAY 23: CIA + LANA + STUDY
(technically, she's one person. between the two of them they certainly only wear enough clothes for one person... )
DAY 24: ARYLL + HUG
(sister to the hero! but what's her story?)
DAY 25: ECHOES OF WISDOM ZELDA + ARREST
(YEAHHHHHHHHH GIRL MONTH GIRL DAY GIRL GAME!!!)
DAY 26: CD-i ZELDA + HOLIDAY
(hehheehehehe. i bet you weren't expecting her. neither was i tbh)
DAY 27: PURAH + FIRE
(SHE'S CLEVER! I LOVE CLEVER WOMEN!)
DAY 28: ILIA + ERUNE + MEND
(listen. i know erune is a very niche character - she literally only exists in the four swords manga - but consider. i love her)
DAY 29: ALTTP/OOS/OOA/LA ZELDA + MISSING
(she has no canon personality. you know what that means. get the building equipment out fellas)
DAY 30: LINKLE + FAREWELL
(and here we are - LAST DAY!)
THE END! YAY! I CAN'T WAIT FOR SEPTEMBER - CAN YOU?
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Welcome back to Tumblr's Poorest Wettest Saddest Littlest Meow Meow Competition! Before we announce the final verdict, let's see how our "lovely" contestants are doing backstage!
VRISKA SERKET, hailing from welcoming Homestuck, is in the blue corner! She's a TROLL, a TELEPATH, and a THIEF. She has also attained GODHOOD, and I'm informed she did nothing wrong! Just off the heels of a dramatic loss in the recent Tumblrwoman Election, she deeply resents being trapped in this narrative device!
Her attire today is plain by Earth standards, but well put-together by ALTERNIAN ones. Nevertheless, she has been known to dress up on occasion, particularly in the colors of her ANCESTOR, the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang!
She is extraordinarily determined, and extremely manipulative. She will do anything she can to make herself into the hero her story needs, consequences be damned. Her actions have made her the source of eternal, vitriolic discourse. Some believe her entirely justified, some believe her a heartless villain, and others believe everything in between; every one steadfast and passionate about their specific stance! Love her or hate her: VRISKA!!!!!!!!
HARRIER DU BOIS, also known as HARRY, sometimes referring to himself as RAPHAEL AMBROSIUS COSTEAU or THE REINCARNATION OF KRAS MAZOV, is here representing scenic Disco Elysium! He is a DETECTIVE, an ALCOHOLIC, a recent AMNESIAC, and a WASTE of ENERGY. Having just recently recovered from an attempt at drinking himself to death, we thought inviting him to compete might raise his spirits some! Unfortunately he does not seem to be totally aware of his surroundings, as he has already tried to touch himself twice on air!
His garish and mismatched clothes are STAINED with seemingly every substance a human body can produce. His face is locked in an EXPRESSION that can only induce disgust and discomfort in those who view it.
The few memories he can draw from his fractured mind paint him as violent, selfish, cruel, and pitiful. He has been trying to get over a breakup for six years, and has only partially succeeded through near-total retrograde amnesia. Worst of all, he's still somehow a decently successful cop. He has no friends and few allies on Revachol, with perhaps the sole exception of the impossibly patient and composed Lt. Kim Katsuragi. Even among his fans, you'd be hard pressed to find one who'd defend him, and ever harder pressed to find one willing to stand in the same room as him. Nevertheless, from the safe distance of fiction, let's hear it for HARRY!
In but a few moments, the doors in front of them will open, and they will be able to approach the trophy onto which we have engraved the name of the winner. 5… 4… 3… 2…
AND THE WINNER IS: VRISKAAAAAAAA SERKET!
—
Vriska: WH8T THE FUCK.
Vriska: WHAT THE F8CK!!!!!!!!
Vriska: I WON THIS????????
Vriska: You pieces of shit can't supp8rt me to win ag8inst some lanky rain8bow-drinking 8itch, 8ut 8eat one-in-fuck8ng 16777216 odds to win poorest, wettest, saddest, littlest g8ddamn meow8east?
Logic [Easy:Success]: She won. That means we lost.
Conceptualization [Challenging:Failure]: Another loss in a long, long line of losses.
Pain Threshold: You've gotten used to the feeling by now. Losing something barely even hurts anymore.
Endurance: You still carry each one with you. Well, except…
Volition: Not now. Not yet.
Authority [Medium:Success]: This doesn't have to stay a loss. Stare the girl down. Challenge her. Don't let this be taken from you.
Wait, what *is* she doing, anyway?
Perception: The grey girl seems to be shouting at someone, but there's no one else here.
Vriska: FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU
Inland Empire [Godly:Success]: The unseen audience, the string-pullers of fate. The sadistic writer terrorizing their creation. The storybook itself, the confines it sets. She has seen the death of the author, and needs more.
Empathy [Medium:Failure]: What's got her so upset?
Harry: Is there something wrong with you?
Vriska: I'm not taking that from a walking dumpster, asshole!
Suggestion: There's still time to fix this. Say something nice, quickly.
Harry: I just mean, you seem upset. I thought you'd be celebrating your win. It’s a big accomplishment, right?
Vriska: Are you kidding?
Drama: Are we, sire? Should we be, perhaps?
Vriska: You thought I’d 8e cele8r8ing this? A vote for the most pitia8le, pathetic person in paradox space? I’m not so desper8 to fill my pity quadrant that I need to resort to CROWDFUNDING! That’s like the lowest form of 8egging!
Electrochemistry: You are that desperate. Don’t think we're above begging for it, piggy.
Conceptualization [Easy:Success]: Oh. This was not a contest one wants to win. Maybe our loss was for the best.
Vriska: And I WON!!!!!!!! With this kind of competition, HOW did I get all the votes? All of them!
Reaction Speed [Trivial:Success]: "This kind of competition?" She’s talking about you! Say something!
Harry: It was a tight race. You fought with honor.
Vriska: IT SH8ULDN’T HAVE FUCKIN8 8EEN!
Vriska: Look at you! What the fuck kind of su8juggl8or suit are you wearing? Did someone 8leed on it?
Savoir Faire: No, no, this outfit is *cool*. You just have to give it a little *disco*, man.
Strike a pose.
Vriska: …
Vriska: You can’t seriously think any of that is appealing.
Vriska: Your clothes look like they were dragged out of 8 different gar8age 8ins.
Vriska: You couldn’t 8e more greasy and stained if you drowned in a pail of 8rooding slurry. From the st8 of your body, you actually might have!
Physical Instrument: I told you. You need to cultivate more mass.
Composure [Challenging:Failure]: Please, don’t start crying in front of a teenager.
You realize that you already have.
Vriska: Are you seriously crying right now? I might not 8e an expert on the human metamorphological process 8ut you definitely aren’t a pupa anymore. Shit, you look like you’re halfway dead already. Grow up, Pupa Pan!
Endurance: You need to stop this, now, before you break down further.
Harry: Fuck off, fucking spidery bitch! Leave me alone!
Vriska: Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen a grown man act this pathetic 8efore. How the hell did you not win this!?!?!?!? Do you even have a single thing going for you?
Esprit De Corps: You have a badge and a gun. You are a Detective Lieutenant-Yefreitor of the RCM. At least for now, you have that.
Harry: I’m a pretty good fucking cop.
Vriska: There are no good cops you dum8 8itch!
Authority: Make her stop.
Vriska: I’ve known you less than a minute and you already disgust me. I feel 8ad for the people that actually have to 8e near you.
Half Light: Do what you have to do and do it now.
Vriska: You deserved to win this. I don’t know how you can live like that. 8ack home you would have 8een culled sweeps ago.
Hand Eye Coordination [Legendary:Success]: You have never fired a shot so quickly or instinctually. You didn’t even know your gun was loaded. You pulled it out the way a cat scratches a hand, or a drunk pisses himself. You don’t remember when violence became second nature to you, but you didn’t forget how to do it either.
Harry: Oh, God.
Perception (Sight): Is that blood… blue?
Visual Calculus [Legendary:Success]: Light swirls and shimmers around the girl’s body, flashing a technicolor code you cannot decipher. Her body floats into the air, and her eyes flash open. All eight of them.
Inland Empire: No justice. No heroism. Just mindless violence.
Half Light: RUN.
Vriska: OW!
Vriska: Oh no you fucking don’t!!!!!!!!
(♏) Volition [Impossible:Failure]: You try to run, but your will is seemingly powerless to drive your body. I’m sorry.
Physical Instrument: Don’t look at me. I’m in great shape.
Interfacing: Connections seem fine. Don’t tell me we have to unplug him again…
♏Vriska♏: What the fuck.
Harry: Wh-wh-what are you doing to me?
Vriska: Shut up I’m trying to f8cus!
Inland Empire: Welcome, Thief of Light.
♏Vriska♏: What the hell is wrong with you?
Encyclopedia: Severe alcoholism. Retrograde amnesia. Partial facial paralysis. Dehydration. Heart palpi- (♏)
♏Vriska♏: 8e quiet, 8ook8rain! I’m trying to rifle through memories here and it’s a MESS!
Interfacing: We haven’t quite organized since our recent… restructuring. Try the thought cabinet.
Rhetoric: Don’t tell her that!
♏Vriska♏: Too late, sucker! Found it!
♏Vriska♏: …
♏Vriska♏: …
♏Vriska♏: …
♏Vriska♏: Jegus christ.
♏Vriska♏: In pu8lic? Why would you—
♏Vriska♏: Ugh!
♏Vriska♏: You said THAT?
♏Vriska♏: There was a8solutely no reason to do ANY of that, what the hell!
♏Vriska♏: You should honestly just kill yourself if you’re going to keep 8eing such a fuckup!
Reaction Speed: Yes!
Logic: Sound. You should kill yourself.
Empathy: It would make everyone feel better.
Endurance: Hasn’t this all gone on long enough?
Savoir Faire: It’s a hell of a statement.
Drama: The noble sacrifice, like Romeo, like Juliet!
Rhetoric: You should kill yourself NOW!
Authority: She has bested you. Listen to your better.
Half Light: Anything to get away from her.
Volition: …
♏Vriska♏: Can you creeps 8e normal for two damn seconds?
MORALE CRITICAL
The light fades from your eyes, and you fall to the floor.
Shivers: You are being called back where you belong....
—
Kim: Yes, Lieutenant. A fascinating dream. I’m sorry you did not win the competition.
Harry: What do you think it means, Kim? Do you think it could be some kind of message? Should I try to find that girl?
Kim: “That girl?”
Harry: Yeah! Vriska!
Kim: No, Lieutenant. I do not think you should go looking for Vriska Serket from Homestuck. Perhaps try looking for the killer in our murder case?
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