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hi! i was wondering if i could use your art for the cover of my apotheosis playlist? obviously ill give you credit, and ill send you the playlist as well if you want!! the only places i put these playlists are the jrwi reddit and my personal messages :) totally understand if the answer is no! (i also will be buying multiple stickers from your redbubble no matter the answer 🥰🥰)
AAHSIDJG TYSM!! ��
And yes, that's perfectly fine with me!! Thanks for asking! Feel free to send me the playlist :D
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a description of what your muse looks like on an everyday basis / the type of clothes they often wear / what they're normally doing on a regular day
"Na maior parte do tempo, eu tento manter um visual que seja tanto prático quanto confortável. No dia a dia, você pode me ver usando uma combinação de roupas que sejam funcionais para o que eu preciso fazer, mas que também reflitam um pouco do meu estilo pessoal. Normalmente, uso calças jeans ou leggings, que são ótimas para a flexibilidade necessária para as atividades do acampamento. Gosto de combinar com camisas e blusas em tons neutros ou escuras, que me permitem misturar com o ambiente sem chamar muita atenção.
Quando preciso de algo mais formal, opto por jaquetas e blazers que adicionam um toque de sofisticação, sem sacrificar a praticidade. Meus sapatos são geralmente robustos, ideais para caminhadas e situações imprevistas, como confrontos com monstros. No geral, meu estilo é mais voltado para a funcionalidade, mas sempre há um toque pessoal, seja através de acessórios discretos ou de um detalhe aqui e ali que reflete meu gosto. No dia a dia, estou envolvida em diversas atividades, desde treinamentos até ajudar no acampamento, e minha roupa precisa estar à altura dessas demandas."
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THIEVES GUILD
[ J. Yunho ]

chapter one: The Job
╚═════════
summary: yunho has been with the thieves guild half his life, he was there best thief, however, this particular treasure to steal will sit him on a path to his undoing
warnings: descriptions of violence, blood, fighting, virgin reader, eventual smut
pairing: werewolf yunho x elven/human afab reader
genre: epic high fantasy, romance, drama
word count: 5.1k
chapter two
masterlist
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The room smelled like smoke, leather, and a hint of blood, recent, but not enough to stain the rug. A single bulb swung lazily from the ceiling, casting long shadows over the cracked brick walls of the hideout. It was quiet, save for the sound of Seonghwa sharpening a dagger in the corner and the low hum of Yeosang drawing new runes. Wooyoung was asleep, or pretending to be, sprawled across the couch like a cat in the sun. Mingi and Jongho were running a recon job downtown. That left just three of them in the room when Hongjoong finally walked in.
Yunho knew it was serious the moment he saw the file in his hand.
“New job,” Hongjoong said, his voice even and low. He dropped the folder onto the center table. It landed with a heavy thud, like it already knew it was going to ruin someone’s life.
San sat up straighter in the armchair across from Yunho. “High end?”
Hongjoong didn’t smile, but his eyes gleamed with something sharp. “Royal.”
Yunho’s gaze flicked to the folder. Gold embossed. Sealed with the emblem of House Virelis, the ruling family of the northern provinces. Nobility. Dangerous territory. Too many cameras, too many guards, too many spells woven into the air itself.
He reached forward and flipped the folder open.
A photograph slipped out.
The girl in the image looked like she didn’t belong in the world she’d been born into. Eyes almost lost, and pointed ears that marked her elven blood. Her dress shimmered like starlight. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Princess Y/N,” Hongjoong said, folding his arms. “Half elven. Half human. Turning twenty one in four days. There’s a masquerade ball in her honor at the royal estate outside Elaris. You’ll be there.”
Yunho raised a brow. “To steal her jewelry?” He joked, clearly knowing this was more than just a robbery.
“To steal her,” Hongjoong stated.
Silence thickened. Even Seonghwa stopped sharpening his blades.
Yunho leaned back in his seat, jaw ticking. “You want us to kidnap a princess?” Was he crazy? They didn’t steal people.
Hongjoong nodded once. “There’s a buyer. Private, high end. Says she’s…special. Worth enough to keep us all comfortable for a long time.”
“What kind of buyer?” San asked, voice quieter than usual.
“The kind who doesn’t ask twice. And doesn’t take no for an answer.” Hongjoong replied, he himself not knowing who the mysterious buyer is yet. Or what the buyer wants a princess for.
Yunho’s stomach coiled as he glanced at the photo again.
The girl’s eyes seemed to stare straight through him.
Two moons, something in his memory whispered. The mark of two moons.
His fingers twitched.
He hadn’t thought about that night in years. The seer in the woods. The prophecy he’d dismissed. She will be your undoing.
He shook it off.
“What’s the plan?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.
“You and San go in under cover,” Hongjoong said. “You’ll be guests, dressed to kill. Get close. Charm her, if you have to. When the fireworks start at midnight, we trigger the power surge. Lights go out. Chaos follows. That’s your window.”
“And if she doesn’t come quietly?”
“You make her.”
Yunho felt the weight of it settle in his chest. He wasn’t a kidnapper. He was a thief. Stealing jewels, artifacts, even spells? Fine. People? That was another game entirely.
But he didn’t say no.
He looked over at San, who gave him a small, grim nod.
“Gear up,” Hongjoong said. “You leave in two hours. Don’t be late.”
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Back in their quarters, Yunho pulled on his tailored suit in silence. The fabric was enchanted to fit like a second skin, lined with hidden seams that concealed thin blades, smoke beads, and a charm or two from Yeosang. San adjusted his cufflinks, glancing toward the mirror with mild distaste.
“I hate these things,” he muttered.
Yunho gave a low chuckle. “That’s because you’re a werepanther, not a politician.”
“I’d rather break into a fortress than dance with some drunk king’s daughter.”
Yunho slid a dagger into the sheath at his thigh. “We’re not dancing.”
“Speak for yourself,” San said, picking up his silver mask. “I plan on blending in.”
Yunho adjusted his collar, then paused. His fingers brushed the scar on his wrist, thin, pale, nearly invisible now. A job gone wrong. A lesson learned.
“Hey,” San said from behind him, voice dropping slightly. “You good?”
Yunho didn’t turn, something inside him telling him this was going to be more than just a job. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The I don’t like this but I’m doing it anyway look.”
Yunho offered a ghost of a smile. “Maybe I don’t like dressing up.”
San didn’t buy it, but he didn’t push.
The masks waited for them on the table. Polished, gleaming. Deceptive. Yunho picked his up and studied his own reflection for a moment.
There was a strange feeling settling in his gut, one he couldn’t name yet. Not dread. Not fear. But something was coming.
He could feel it.
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The estate outside Elaris rose from the hills like something out of a dream, or a nightmare, depending on how you looked at it. Built centuries ago, and enchanted to stay pristine, it towered over a vast sea of gardens and marble statues, every inch glowing under the enchantments laced into the air. Pale, floating lights lit the winding path to the main entrance, and behind the estate, fireworks had already begun blooming over the horizon.
The carriage Hongjoong had secured for them slowed to a halt at the gates. Their names were false, their invitations forged and enhanced with glamours courtesy of Yeosang. Yunho felt the wards ripple as they passed through, checking for threats, enchantments, identities. Their cover held.
San adjusted his mask, a sleek piece of silver trimmed in black, cat like at the edges, sharp enough to be unsettling. His suit was tailored flawlessly, dark navy with accents of shadowy gray. Beside him, Yunho wore black on black, a quiet kind of deadly, with a mask of carved obsidian edged in gleaming silver. Not a wrinkle out of place. Not a weapon visible, though they were both armed to the teeth.
The doors to the grand ballroom opened with a hiss of magic. Music poured out like honey, rich, slow, seductive. The air inside was warm and glittering with spells woven into the chandeliers above. People moved in a slow, elegant swirl of silk and velvet, masks hiding smiles and secrets alike.
“Elites,” San muttered beside him, eyeing the crowd with quiet distaste. “I can smell the money.” And it was certainly as if you could, a tinge of spice, citrus and bitterness.
Yunho didn’t answer. His eyes were scanning already, windows, exits, security wards in the walls. The crowd was thick, the lighting dim, and the room pulsed with magic. Perfect for blending in. Perfect for slipping away unseen, if you were fast.
And somewhere in all of it, she was here.
The target.
The princess.
They didn’t know where she would be, not exactly. All Hongjoong had said was that she’d be making an appearance for her birthday shortly after sunset, part of some elaborate ceremony celebrating her coming of age. Tradition. Politics. Show.
“She’s probably in the east wing,” San said, low enough that only Yunho could hear. “Guard patterns are thicker there. Either that or they’re guarding something expensive.”
“Or both,” Yunho murmured.
They moved slowly through the crowd, nodding politely, offering smiles to passing nobles, accepting drinks they didn’t sip. Yunho’s gaze kept drifting upward, past the floating candles and charmed lights, toward the golden mezzanine that overlooked the ballroom.
Then he felt it.
A shift in the room.
The music didn’t stop, but it changed, subtle and slow, a deeper thread woven into the rhythm.
Yunho turned.
The princess had arrived.
She stood at the top of the grand staircase, poised like a blade. Her gown shimmered in silver and pale blue, catching the light like moonlit glass. A mask covered the upper half of her face, but it couldn’t hide the sharp cut of her cheekbones or the slight point to her ears. Her hair spilled down her back, braided with pearls and starlight.
And even from here, Yunho felt it.
Not magic. Not power.
Something else.
Like gravity bending around her.
Target acquired, San murmured through the charm tucked in Yunho’s ear.
But Yunho didn’t answer right away.
Because something in her gaze struck a match in the back of his mind.
Like a door creaking open somewhere inside him.
Like a whisper in a language he almost remembered.
She was just a girl.
And yet…
He couldn’t look away.
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Y/N hated the masquerade.
The gowns. The music. The eyes.
All of it.
She stood at the top of the stairs, her spine held straight by years of practice and pressure, her chin tilted just enough to suggest confidence. A mask of silver filigree shielded most of her face, but it couldn’t hide the way her jaw clenched. Her dress shimmered under the floating lights, soft silver with a bodice threaded in silk vines, designed to make her look like a vision of elven nobility. But she felt like a prize horse paraded before bidders.
Behind her smile, her teeth ached.
She was only half elven, but nights like these made her feel like a stranger to both halves of herself. The court adored her when she was quiet, poised, and pretty. But when she asked too many questions or disappeared into the archives for hours, the whispers started again.
Too human. Too stubborn. Too wild.
She wanted to run. Gods, she ached to run.
Instead, she descended the staircase like she belonged.
Gloved hands reached toward her almost immediately.
“Princess Y/N,” purred a lordling with far too much cologne and breath dripping with something strong. “Might I…”
“No,” she said sweetly, gliding past him before he could finish.
The next one she evaded with a glance. The third with a sip of wine and a fabricated cough. She lost count after the sixth.
Somewhere in the crowd, her father watched her with a proud smile.
He had no idea how badly she wanted to disappear.
Y/N slipped away toward the shadowed edge of the ballroom, where the light dimmed and the music was gentler, quieter. A balcony door stood cracked open, letting in a whisper of cool night air. She started toward it.
And ran straight into someone.
Solid. Tall. Warm.
She blinked, startled, and looked up.
A man stood before her in black and silver. His mask was carved obsidian, elegant and sharp, hiding most of his face. But his eyes, his eyes were unreal. Dark brown with the faintest specks of gold, glowing faintly even in the low light, ringed with shadows like smudged kohl. He looked like something out of an old story. Or a dream.
“Forgive me,” she said quickly, stepping back.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just looked at her.
Y/N heart ticked a little faster. Not from fear, but from something. “You’re not from court,” she said, studying him. “You don’t smell like politics.”
That earned the ghost of an almost wolffish smile from him. He tilted his head, just slightly. “I could say the same about you.”
His voice was low. Velvet and smoke. She felt it more than heard it. “Are you going to ask me to dance?” she asked, trying to keep the edge from her voice.
He stepped closer. Not enough to be improper, but enough that she felt the heat coming off him in waves. “No.”
She blinked. “No?”
He leaned in, voice almost a whisper. “I don’t think you want to dance with anyone.”
Y/N swallowed. Hard.
He wasn’t wrong.
“I’m good at pretending,” she said quietly.
“Maybe,” he murmured. “But not tonight.”
A pause.
For a moment, they just stood there, her in the glow of a dozen floating lights, him half in shadow. She couldn’t see his full face, but she didn’t need to. There was something dangerous about him. Something magnetic. And yet… she didn’t want to walk away.
She didn’t know his name.
But gods help her, she wanted to.
She should’ve walked away.
Should’ve curtsied, offered a polite goodbye, and disappeared back into the sea of silk and sharp smiles. That’s what a good princess would’ve done. That’s what they expected of her.
But Y/N didn’t move.
Neither did he.
Strange, she thought. For all the gowns and gold threaded into this ballroom, all the carefully tailored masks and over perfumed nobles, it was this man’s silence, still, clad in shadows, who made the air feel alive.
He hadn’t bowed. He hadn’t introduced himself. He didn’t ask her to dance or flatter her title or even offer his name.
And she couldn’t look away.
His gaze drifted across her face, not with hunger like the others, but like he was searching for something. Noticing. Mapping. Learning.
She wasn’t used to that.
“Are you going to keep staring,” she murmured, “or are you waiting for me to vanish into thin air?”
“I don’t think you’d vanish,” he said softly.
“Oh? And what do you think I’d do?”
His head tilted. “I think you’d run.”
A flicker of something sparked in her chest.
“I might,” she teased. “if someone gave me a reason.”
He took a step closer. Deliberate. Unhurried.
She didn’t move.
The music behind them swelled, something string heavy and mournful, and the flickering lights of the chandeliers above shifted, throwing moving shadows across his face. His mask caught the light, but not enough to show what he was hiding underneath.
His voice lowered again, almost conspiratorial. “So what’s keeping you here?”
She hesitated. Just for a breath. “Maybe I’m curious.”
That smile again, barely there. But this time, it reached his eyes.
“I should go,” she said, not moving.
“You don’t want to.”
He was right. Again.
And that bothered her more than y/n expected.
Because she didn’t know him.
But her pulse had already started to dance.
Y/N took a step back, not away, not yet, and gestured toward the open balcony door behind him. “Walk with me,” she said. It wasn’t a request.
He followed her without hesitation.
The air outside was cooler than she expected, tinged with the sweet scent of night blooming jasmine. The gardens beyond the balcony were lit by floating lanterns that drifted lazily above the stone paths, and the walls were tall enough to block out most of the city’s light.
For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people left in the world.
She leaned on the railing, fingers brushing the carved stone. “You’re not from Elaris,” she said without turning.
“No.”
“Are you a merchant’s son? A diplomat? A visiting lord?”
“No.”
She turned her head slightly. “You’re not very talkative.”
“Only when I need to be.”
Another pause.
Then, quieter, she asked, “And do you need to be now?”
He looked at her for a long moment, and in that silence, the breeze picked up, carrying the scent of him to her. Earthy, dark, faintly wild. Like pine and leather and rain.
“No,” he said.
But he stepped closer anyway.
They stood there for what felt like forever. Not speaking. Not moving. Just existing in the same space, while the world inside went on spinning without them.
She should’ve felt uneasy.
She didn’t.
If anything… she felt seen.
It was dangerous. She knew that. She felt it in her bones. There was something about him that didn’t belong here, something raw beneath the mask and polish.
But still…
“I never got your name,” she said.
He hesitated. “I don’t think I should give it.”
Y/N arched a brow. “Why not?”
“Because,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, “you’ll remember me either way.”
Her breath caught.
Somewhere deep in the estate, a bell chimed.
Midnight.
She turned toward the sound, and just like that, the moment shattered.
The ballroom roared to life again. A sudden shift in music. A new dance. A second wave of guests entering through the grand doors. The ceremony had ended. The distraction was over.
She blinked, pulling herself back.
“I should go,” she said again, this time meaning it.
He didn’t stop her.
But he watched her leave.
And her heart beat just a little too hard when she glanced back and saw him still standing there, half in shadow, watching her like a wolf scouring his prey. Like she was the only thing in the world worth seeing.
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The signal came with a small tilt of San’s head.
Yunho saw it across the ballroom, just as the string quartet transitioned to a sweeping new arrangement. San stood near the far pillar, swirling a flute of champagne he hadn’t touched, his mask catching the glint of crystal lights. Behind him, their contact, a black market smuggler in a teal coat, disappeared through the servants’ corridor.
Time to move.
Yunho slid through the crowd with practiced ease, eyes trained on the target, the half elven princess with silver lace threaded into her hair and suspicion in her spine.
She hadn’t seen him yet. Good.
She was speaking with one of the stewards, likely angling for another brief escape from the endless parade of nobles, and it gave him the opening he needed. He stepped into the shadow of a marble column, one hand at his belt where the spelled rope Yeosang had given him was tucked beneath his coat.
No blood. No noise. No magic unless absolutely necessary. Hongjoong’s voice echoed in his mind.
He exhaled.
Then she turned, and saw him.
She paused.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You just can’t stay away, can you?”
Yunho froze for half a breath.
Even now, surrounded by danger she didn’t know was coming, sharp as a blade and twice as fast, she still managed to tease him. Still had the nerve to look at him like she knew something he didn’t.
He stepped closer, voice low. “You should’ve stayed inside.” Then he removed his mask.
“And missed your brooding silhouette skulking in the halls?” she replied, taking in his features like she were trying to remember the brush strokes of a painting. “Never.”
“You should run.”
She arched a brow. “Why would I do that?”
He reached for her.
She moved fast, twisting, her hand going for a dagger, gods, she had one hidden in the side of her gown, but he caught her wrist first, the other arm slipping around her waist and pulling her against him.
“What….”
He clamped his palm over her mouth.
“Don’t scream,” he whispered at her ear. “You’ll only make it worse.”
She thrashed.
She was fast. Stronger than he expected. It had to be the elven blood running through her veins.
But Yunho was stronger.
San appeared at the end of the corridor in a flash of black velvet and motion. “Now?” he mouthed.
Yunho gave a sharp nod, already pulling her into the dark hallway leading to the service stairs.
They moved fast, her heels dragging across the stone before she kicked them off with a growl. She nearly elbowed him in the gut, gods, she was fierce, but he didn’t let go. San got the door, and they half dragged, half carried her down the narrow steps into the undercroft where the exit tunnel waited.
“I’m going to scream,” she hissed.
“Try,” Yunho said calmly. “See what happens.”
She did. Of course she did.
Yunho sighed and tapped his ring to the spelled rope at his belt. It unfurled like a snake, shimmering faintly in the dim light. Before she could bolt, San grabbed her wrists. She cursed in Elvish, very colorfully, and then the rope slid around her arms and pulled tight.
The moment it locked, she froze.
She felt it. The hum of power. Yeosang’s enchantment was subtle, but effective, it adjusted to her strength, tightening when she strained, loosening only enough to keep her circulation alive. If she tried to scream, it would muffle her vocal cords. And if she ran….
Well. The rope would stop her.
Yunho hated it.
Not because it didn’t work. Because it did. Too well.
Her wide eyes met his now, furious and disbelieving. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath, and the wild defiance in her expression sparked something in him he wasn’t ready for.
She looked like something that couldn’t be tamed.
Like something that shouldn’t.
“We’ll remove it when it’s safe,” he said, not unkindly.
“Safe?” she spat. Long gone already was her teasing behavior from before. “Do I look like I care about your idea of safe?”
San raised a brow. “Feisty. You sure she’s the right one?”
“Yeah,” Yunho said.
The words left his mouth without thought.
But as soon as he said them, a flicker of unease twisted in his gut.
He didn’t mean right as in target.
He meant something else.
And he didn’t know why.
They moved through the escape tunnel quickly, San leading the way, lantern held low to avoid attracting attention. Behind them, the masquerade continued as if nothing had happened. Music. Laughter. Lies.
And Yunho… he didn’t look back.
He couldn’t.
Because when she turned her face away and refused to meet his gaze again, something about that felt far too much like regret.
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The tunnel stretched on for what felt like miles, the air growing thick with the musty scent of damp stone. It was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of their footsteps and the occasional flicker of San’s lantern casting long, distorted shadows along the walls.
Yunho kept his grip on her wrist, the rope pulling tightly against her, though she didn’t fight him. Not yet, anyway. She walked with an angry, determined pace, but there was a certain tension in y/n that made him want to look over his shoulder. She hadn’t said another word, but her silence was far from peaceful.
He kept his eyes ahead, keeping his own pace even, mind racing.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about her.
A few more steps. A sudden stop.
The tunnel ahead widened into a small clearing, the stars had begun to scatter across the velvet sky, the moon a silver sliver hanging low on the horizon.
The forest greeted them with open arms, tall trees arching overhead, their leaves whispering secrets on the wind. The damp chill of the underground gave way to crisp night air, and Yunho’s lungs filled with the scent of pine and distant rain.
They moved quickly through the woods, following a narrow trail that only those like San or Yeosang would’ve known existed. Hidden paths. Smuggler routes. Roads the crown had forgotten, or wanted to forget.
Yunho glanced behind him. Y/N trudged along between him and San, silent and glaring. Her hands were still bound, but she carried herself with a defiant sort of pride, chin up, eyes burning.
She was trouble.
He felt it in his bones.
They reached a sheltered grove near a stream. It was defensible, remote, and thick with canopy, just what they needed. San dropped the packs while Yunho untied one of the enchanted bags, pulling out the tent sheets and warding stones.
“We’ll stay here for the night,” Yunho said, mostly for her benefit. “Don’t try to run. The wards and that rope will stop you.”
“I’m not stupid,” she muttered under her breath.
He gave her a look but didn’t argue. The fire crackled to life minutes later, thanks to San’s skilled hand and a flick of flint magic. It bathed the clearing in gold and orange, casting sharp shadows over Yunho’s face as he crouched near the flames, warming his hands.
Y/N sat opposite him, roped loosely now but still within their circle. She didn’t look tired, but he could see it in the way her shoulders drooped, the way her eyes blinked a little longer each time she closed them.
San joined him beside the fire, unrolling an old map, corners worn and edges curling.
“We’ve got two main routes,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Through the Wraith Marshes, fast, but we’d need to cross the hunter lines. Dangerous.” He tapped a long path etched in faint silver ink. “Or north through the Verdant Hills. Slower, but mostly abandoned.”
Yunho frowned. “The marshes aren’t an option. If they catch wind of her…”
“I know.” San sighed, rubbing his jaw. “I just figured I’d lay it out. Either way, we’ll have to pass through the Wildbreak border.”
Yunho nodded, eyes flicking briefly toward Y/N. She hadn’t moved. But he could tell she was listening.
He looked back down, pressing a finger to a winding road through the hills. “This one. We keep a low profile. No spells unless absolutely necessary.”
San nodded slowly, then tilted his head back to look at the night sky. The moon was climbing now, a pale gleam through the trees.
“It’s going to be full in two nights,” San said, voice quieter now. “You ready for that?”
Yunho stiffened.
He didn’t answer right away.
“I’ll manage.”
San gave him a look. Not one of judgment, just concern. They’d been through enough together for San to know what a full moon did to him. What it did to all werewolves, really. The difference was, Yunho was strong. Controlled. Until he wasn’t.
“It’s not like the rest of us,” San said gently. “You don’t shift and stay sane. You lose time. You forget. You hunt.”
“I said I’ll manage.” The words came out sharper than Yunho meant, a little too loud. Y/N head turned slightly toward them, her brow furrowing. Yunho felt his jaw clench.
He lowered his voice.
“We’ll make camp early that night. Set the perimeter. You handle the rope.”
San’s eyes lingered on him, reluctant but understanding.
“Fine. But if it starts before you’re ready…”
“I’ll be ready.”
Yunho didn’t add that he hated the full moon. Hated the way the bloodlust clouded his mind, the way he woke up naked and covered in dirt…or worse..with pieces missing from his memory. He hated the way he’d once bitten through metal just to break free.
But that was the part of him he’d buried deep. The part the guild trusted but never dared to provoke.
He turned his head, catching Y/N watching him from across the fire.
She didn’t look scared. Just… curious. Intrigued, even. Her elven hearing catching their whispered conversation in snippets.
And her intrigue and non fear, for some reason, that unsettled Yunho more.
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Morning came with the first notes of birdsong, cool mist curling low across the forest floor like a lazy serpent. The fire had burned itself down to embers, but the scent of ash and smoke still lingered in the air, mixing with damp earth and pine.
Yunho stirred first, already awake by the time the sun broke through the leaves. He’d barely slept, too many thoughts, too many risks ahead. His senses were on high alert, even with the wards still in place. He could feel the energy shifting. Something coming.
San emerged from his tent looking far too awake for someone who’d only had a few hours of sleep.
“Packed us up,” he said casually, rolling his shoulders. “We’ll move soon.”
Yunho gave a short nod, already tugging off the last of the formal jacket he’d worn to the masquerade. The dark fabric was wrinkled, stained at the hem from the tunnels. It felt wrong now, like a costume that had served its purpose.
San was already half dressed in his usual gear, fitted leather pants, a lightweight black shirt, utility straps across his chest. Practical. Silent. Ready to vanish into the trees.
Yunho pulled on his own gear, black beanie, charcoal tunic, reinforced with plates at the shoulders, dark trousers, boots laced up to the knee. He adjusted the daggers strapped to his sides and threw his coat over his shoulders, pulling the hood up, the familiar weight grounding him.
Behind them, Y/N shifted, watching the transformation with an arched brow. “Well,” she said, brushing some dirt off the torn hem of her masquerade gown. “I take it I’m supposed to wear this for the rest of my kidnapping?”
She gestured to the once elegant dress, now wrinkled, dusty, and snagged in three different places. The lace sleeves drooped slightly, and her braid had come mostly undone, strands curling around her face.
Yunho looked her over, then shrugged. “We’ll find you something else to wear along the way.”
“How generous,” she muttered.
San snorted.
Yunho rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He did mean it. She’d never make it in that dress, not through forest, swamp, and whatever else waited ahead. The hills alone would shred it to ribbons.
“Try not to rip it before then,” San teased. “It really brings out the hostage energy.”
Y/N gave him a slow, unamused blink. “You must be the charming one.”
“I have my moments.”
Yunho finished adjusting the straps on his pack and stepped past her, the morning sun breaking clean through the trees now. It glinted against the silver of the spelled rope still wrapped around her wrists.
“We’ll be hitting nymph territory by nightfall,” San said as they started walking. “Not exactly avoidable if we’re taking the hills.”
Yunho glanced sideways. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Yeosang marked it on the map. They’ve spread since last season.”
“Great,” Yunho muttered.
Nymphs were… tricky. Beautiful. Unpredictable. Feral, even. Their magic was primal, seductive. Dangerous.
“Last time we passed through,” San went on, grinning, “one of them touched me.”
Yunho raised a brow. “Touched you?”
“Oh, just my shoulder,” San said, waving a hand. “But it was enough. Had me sexually ravenous for days. Couldn’t look at a fruit stand without thinking filthy thoughts.”
Yunho groaned and shook his head. “You’re a menace.”
“They’re the menace,” San shot back. “I’m just the victim of circumstance.”
A scoff came from behind them. Y/N adjusted the folds of her dress, expression dry. “You boys going to keep flirting, or are you finally going to tell me where you’re taking me?”
Yunho turned slowly, eyes meeting hers. She was pushing again, pressing for cracks. She wanted control, information, something to give her leverage.
“You’ll know when we get there,” he said flatly.
“Of course,” she replied, lifting her chin, eyes gleaming with defiance. “How very vague and morally ambiguous.”
“Would you rather we knocked you out?” San offered helpfully, jokingly.
Y/N gave him a look like she’d happily knock him out instead.
Yunho tightened the straps of his pack, drawing in a long breath. He could feel the weight of the journey settling on them already, miles ahead of them, the road uncertain.
Nymph territory. The Wildbreak border. The full moon.
And the princess with the sharp tongue trailing behind him, unknowingly dragging fate closer with every step.
They began to walk.
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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990 @straytiny127
tag list: @ateezbbys @juicyjaxxy @waywardstaytiny @inkling-things @hartsablaze @metalheadatiny
#putting all my love for elder scrolls and lotr into this!!!!!#yunho#jeong yunho#yunho x y/n#yunho x reader#yunho fanfic#ateez#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#san#choi san#hongjoong#kim hongjoong
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Q: Did you have to braid your teammates' pigtails while waiting for resurrection in a tavern? Or maybe someone braided your pigtails?
Ench: W-well, the most important is that you tried! thanks... hah. Morph: Hm-m.
Morphling: Will you show me how to do it right maybe? Ench: O-oh! Of course!
for the event in dota 2 ask they banned Bane for me, so i must to draw one (or more) answer for suggested heroes :D

#dota 2#dota 2 fanart#fanart#artwork#enchantress#morphling#art#dota 2 enchantress#dota 2 morphling#dota 2 ask reborn
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when you get this you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)
Things I like about myself as requested by my friend Acerena. These aren’t in any particular order at all. 1. My eyes are different colors. It isn’t all that noticeable, but my left eye is blue and my right eye is green. 2. I adore writing. I truly think it is my destiny, and a lot of my past and personality have pushed me towards aspiring to become an author. 3. I lead a very rich fantasy life.4. I love anime. 5. I’m not a very serious person. 90% of the time I’m pretty much just messing around with whoever I’m talking to. I’m very chill.
#thanks for the ask!#I’m gonna refrain from asking people...#at least for now#I don’t talk to any of my followers#but if y’all want you can answer in the comments?#go for it!#it’d be nice to communicate a bit#but I bet no one does#e~mi~ly she’s fre~e~e~ench~!
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Insatiable
Kinktober 8/31: breeding kink
Pairing: mechanic!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: smut, explicit language, breeding kink, possessive!bucky, fluff, unprotected sex, oral sex.
Summary: You and your boyfriend want to have a baby, and he’s more than happy to keep trying.
A/N: day 8 of @itgetsdarksometimes35 spooky challenge + Kinktober.
The rich smell of motor oil and gas floods your senses the further you get inside Bucky’s shop, that same scent you’ve learnt to love on his skin when his chest presses against your face as he thrusts deep inside you, his hands digging in your hips, his whispers in your ear.
So perfect, I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my child.
You sigh at the memory, and look around cars, bikes and tools, no Bucky in sight.
“‘M here, bubbles.”
His strained voice reaches you, and you find him crouched under the hood of a car, his t-shirt long discarded somewhere in the shop, a cloth around his neck and grease and sweat all over his sculpted abs.
His denim jeans hang sinfully low on his hips, and your eyes inevitably trail down the patch of dark hair below his navel.
“That sure is a sight for sore eyes after a day of work.” you quip, stalking closer to him until your chest presses against his.
You raise a hand to his face, sweeping a tendril of chestnut hair out of his eyes. He gives you a soft smile, and gestures for you to peck his lips, which you happily do.
“You didn’t have to come tonight too sweetheart, I don’t want to take up all your nights.”
You huff, placing the bags of take out on the table nearby, unwrapping the foil containers.
You get a waft of the delicious food, and your stomach rumbles in response.
“We live together Buck, why would I stay home alone when I can be with you instead?”
Bucky beams, even if you can’t see him. He takes in the sight of you, all cute in a sundress, caring for him, bringing him food, offering your company while he works late nights.
He feels warmth blossom in his chest, and another kind of heat travel down south as his thoughts lose innocence.
Images of you wobbling around, all round with his baby, another propped in your arms. Little giggles and soft lullabies in your house, small hands clutching his, the big family he’s always dreamed about.
“So, I got tacos con carnitas, ench-”
You yelp when he spins you around, and you find yourself caged between his glistening chest and the table behind your back.
He hums, lowering his face to the side of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair.
“I was thinking about a different kind of dinner, if that's alright with you bubbles.”
You giggle when he nuzzles the crook of your neck and his stubble grazes your skin, tickling you.
“You’re insatiable, Bucky Barnes.”
He chuckles, hands traveling from your waist to your ass, squeezing and kneading your soft flesh.
“You’re right, I can never get enough of you.” He murmurs against your throat, latching his mouth around your pulse point.
You let your head fall back as he keeps exploring your body, brushing his lips over your skin.
“I can never get enough of these.” He grunts, palming your breasts roughly, “This.” He keeps going, trailing kisses from your stomach to your belly.
“I can’t wait to see you all round with our baby, bubbles. All heavy with my child.”
He travels down south as your wanton moans fill the stop. You’re panting, writhing underneath his touch.
“I can never get enough of this sweet, tight pussy of yours babygirl.” He mumbles, falling to his knees and spreading your legs apart.
Your love is passionate yet gentle, and it always ends like this, either one of you on your knees, or one under the other. And you don’t mind at all.
He bunches your dress at your waist, exposing your lace thongs.
“Wore these just for me?” He asks, hooking his fingers around the waistband and pulling down, letting them pool at your feet.
“Who else would I wear them for?” You reply, feeling yourself get impatient of his teasing, your pussy throbbing in anticipation.
He slaps your ass, not satisfied with your answer, and the sound bounces off the wall.
“For you, Buck, wore these all for you, only you.” You pant, chest heaving.
He smirks up at you, and nips the tender skin of your inner thighs until he reaches your leaking cunt. You let out a moan when he delves in wet folds, tongue lapping around your bud and prodding at your entrance.
He latches his mouth around your swollen clit, suckling until you’re a moaning mess, torn between pleasure and oversensitivity.
“God, bubbles, you taste like fuckin’ heaven.” He grunts against your core, and the vibration shoots straight inside you, bringing you closer to your release.
“Fuck, harder, more, God, Bucky.”
You’re a blabbering mess, clutching Bucky’s greasy hair tightly, pulling at his roots.
He licks a thick stripe for you entrance to your clit, lapping at your bud until you’re crying out loud and gushing all over his face, limbs shaking as waves of heat overcome you.
He drinks up your juices like a man on a mission, his lewd, slurping sounds filling up the store until you push him off you.
He looks up at you, covered in your release, eyes half lidded, the light blue swallowed by darkness.
“Need to be inside you now, bubbles, I’m gonna put a child in there I’m telling you.” He promises frantically, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the closest car.
He bends you over the hood, and fumbles with his belt.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect babygirl, ‘s like we were made for eachother.”
He presses a kiss between your shoulder blades, before lining himself up with your entrance and sliding home.
You both let out a growl when he bottoms out.
“So tight, so good for me.” He whimpers, snapping his hips against your again and again, hitting your sweet spot.
The pressure in your cunt is building up again at a fast pace, and the jolts of pleasure jerking you are so intense you don’t even feel the metal digging in your hip bones, or your arms being bent backwards against your back as he keeps pummeling inside you.
“Gonna fill this cunt up with my cum bubbles, push it all the way inside. Fuck.” He groans, balls getting tighter with each stroke, each of your tiny moans.
He feels your walls clamping down on his cock, squeezing him in a vice.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He snarls, snapping his hips harshly against your ass.
You cry out loud, gritting your teeth when he hits your cervix. “Fu-, shit baby, I’m all yours, only yours.”
“Tell me you want this, bubbles, tell me you want my child.”
“God, I wa-want this child, please, oh my fuckin-, harder.” You shriek, bucking your hips against his, desperately chasing your release.
“I want you to beg me, beg me to put a child inside you.”
You feel the knot is your core tighten.
“Please Bucky, gimme all you’ve got, baby, I want you to cum inside me, fill my tight little hole with your cum.” You whimper.
He snakes his hand between your legs and rubs circles around your clit while he keeps hammering inside you. You feel his thrusts become sloppier, and his cock swells.
When you cum, it’s like a dam breaks and waves of pleasure crash over you. The knot unravels and the pressure releases, jerking all your limbs.
He moans, curling over you and reaching impossibly deeper as he paints your walls with his hot load.
You don’t know how long you stay like this, basking in each other’s warmth. You just know that one minute you’re bent over a random car, and the next one he’s lifting you up on the table.
“You know, I enjoy this baby making activity quite a lot, we should do it more often.”
You playfully glare at him. As if he wasn’t on you all the time, unable to control his urges.
“More often than this and we’d never leave our bed, baby.” You giggle, taking a sip out of your soda can.
“Would that be so bad?” He wonders, seemingly mulling over his words.
You sigh, and boop his nose.
“Not at all.
-
I promise I’ll answer all your sweet comments on yesterday’s fic tomorrow, I’m too tired now. :(
Short and sweer bc school is killing me. I hope you liked it, please leave some feedback 💘
Add yourself to my taglist on my pinned post ;)
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#kinktober#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n
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4,13,19,26 for Gigi?
Amanda my beloved! Thank you so much for asking these 💕
4. What type of weapons do they prefer?
previously answered here
Her trusty rusty bat aka Ol’ Reliable™.
This bitch grew up with SpongeBob like all of us.
13. From the GFH/FGH which one they get along with the most?
previously answered here
I could never pick just one 🙈 so instead I’ll describe Gigi’s relationship with each a bit more in detail and hope that’s okay with you too. ♡
Boomer: Her good boy!! She is always so grateful to see him whenever she visits the Ryes and he senses that she is usually in need of some good old-fashioned canine comforting. Gigi’s heart breaks every time for his because despite having lost his Rea Rea, the were best friends for sure, and having to go through some brutal peggies shit too, he is still such a friendly loveable loyal companion. So they will cuddle and play and frolick around. Boomer thinks it’s good for his human to get some exercise with him and he‘ll gladly fetch the tennis ball for her any time because throwing it seems to really excite her.
After baby Carmina arrives and Joey is finally free he moves in with her though. Just like Gigi she is in need of a loyal caring partner and he takes great pride in caring for her.
Nick: She’d not only die for him but give him a kidney. He made her godmother to his baby after all! The first time she firmly declines his offer for a flight he is a bit hurt though but understands soon enough that it’s not because she doubts his abilities as a pilot but because she has yet to process the helicopter crash. Gigi also does have a little crush on Kim and him but doesn’t make a move in fear of putting them off. (They do share a bed though from time to time. Whatever that might mean.)
Grace: Gigi is deeply in awe of her and has nothing but respect for the amazing Grace. She can sometimes be a little reserved about Gigi‘s loud side but that’s just her personality. She is all the more down to listen to the softer notes of her mix though and has her back from the first moment they talk. Grace knows gigi is a good person a really respects how much she does for the county.
Cheeseburger: Big. Wonderful. Cuddlebug. Most adventures they go on consist of hiking and napping. Cheeseburger loves how the deputy can scratch all of her itches that develop under that enormous coat soooo well and she will often bring dried fish as a treat for her. The understand each other without words and spending time with Cheeseburger really relaxes the deputy. Who could resist snuggling up against that big plushie after all?
Hurk: Shenanigans galore ensured! They bond over meming and scheming and their shared love for cartoons and tiddies. Gigi loves listening to his stories of his travels but doubts the accuracy of the them at least 70% of the time. He basically treats her like a little sister, showed her how to light farts on fire. They once got drunk and were REALLY committed to giving each other tongue piercings (but luckily did not follow through).
Jess: They bond over cartoons and tiddies too but soon get much closer than that. Jess finds real comfort in spending time with Gigi, something she had secretly been missing for a long time. Gigi always wishes she could “fix” everything that shattered the huntress so many times that she has grown a shell of steel by now so she is happiest when she can just hold her to her chest when she has fallen asleep.
Peaches: magical 👏🏽 hands 👏🏽 the murderous secret cuddle bug can always rely on Gigi finding the right spot to pet on her head and under her chin. She just naturally is a cat person and they get along like littermates. Sometimes Peaches even licks her for a bit and will run off to rip some peggies’ throat out before Gigi has even spotted them. She’s the only FFH allowed in her bed.
Sharky: Another best buddy power couple! Both love to just hang out, sip some beer and share snacks. Sometimes they will play guitar together and Sharky is absolutely enchanted by her singing. He calls her Stinky or Shorty. They also smash a lot. He is in awe of how he can get this bundle of nerves and tension to unwind and let go of herself and he’d be the only person she’d ever potentially allow to knock her up. (Not gonna happen though.)
Adelaide: A bit of her mum and a bit of her bad influence-friend. They often enable each other but generally in positive ways. Addie is one of the only people who at least suspects how much Gigi is sleeping around. She is none to judge though and even helps her through a pregnancy scare once. Our queen has been there, done that and some things you just cannot be alone with. They’ll always be there for each other.
@adelaidedrubman also asked to know more about the relationship between my dep and the Ryes so I shall expand on that in a future post 💕
19. How do they feel about Faith?
Definitely the most positive out of the Seeds. Gigi, especially initially, fails to realise that Faith is just as bad as the others, just different. She knew before arriving that Joseph got her to join the family when she was 17 and won’t stop viewing her as the vulnerable teenage addict for a while, completely disregarding all of her actions which are literally just as bad as her brothers’. So congrats to my deputy for being a dum dum and literally falling for their narrative of innocence and all that blah. (Wanna implement a little disclaimer here that, yes, the abuse she faced was bad and Faith/Rachel is not a bad person for it, also not for it making her especially deceptible for joining the cult of a much older man who manipulated her into it. She is still very much responsible for her actions though and drugs and trauma are not an excuse for harmful bahaviour and deeds. Of course y’all know that bc ur smart but it felt important to make this clear again.)
The first times my deputy experiences very bad bliss trips, she also does not make the connection to Faith being responsible for it which she very much is though. The siren has a habit of making people go through the worst shit in their minds while only being present for the aftermath, to “rescue” them from their trip and pull them out of the bliss. She only ever appears in positive visions.
Has stolen Gigi’s shoes on numerous occasions. They always turn up again somewhere after a while though. But it’s enough to make Gigi question her sanity every time it happens.
26. What do they feel about Joseph?
this is a lot like 24, previously answered here, so I’m taking this as an opportunity to add more
If you were to ask Gigi she’d tell you that he has never outright hurt her which is… kinda true? He has a great way of concealing his violence by having it carried out through his brothers, sister and followers. Joseph is also never the first one to lash out at her, always finding “reasons” to do so, always staying calm during it and reassuring her that it is something he does not want to but has to do. She basically only has herself to blame anyways.
Gigi unfortunately eats that shit up but is still peripherally aware that he is definitely not doing the right thing. She couldn’t kill him, at least not of her own accord. If he basically pounced her and tried to choke her to death then probably yes but she would never walk up to a “peaceful civillian” and stab them right in the eye. She tries to reason with him though whenever possible but stinky little preacher man would of course never accept that.
#I’m sorry it took me seven million years to get back to you#scungilliwoman#far cry 5#answered asks#my dep
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This was the first ask. The blog is very very new and I'm kinda skittish about answering lol because I've seen some f*ench people bullying others for liking the band. And the question is very weird. Idkkk I'm just venting lmao
ahhh dont worry! i was trying to set up my blog after the unfortuante events djskka
and you dont have to answer it if you feel uncomfortable!! i mean fr*nce's song was already bad and they got little from the public... i don't know what they are butthurt about lmao they simply hate to see bisexuals winning😁
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Firebird | Chap.5
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Have a safe and happy holidays!
Chapter 5: Ideographic Approach
Many questions are asked, and very few answers are given. The Enchanter sees another side of the Pride of Rito Village.
*
Fire. The world was on fire. Maiya pushed through the crowd of fleeing people, ribbons of smoke filling her lungs and the smell of burnt flesh lingering in the air. A blood moon was in the sky, casting a scarlet glow that mingled with the flames spreading from the burning cottages behind her.
“...ey…hey!”
The frightening sound of wood cracking and creaking met her ears. Unsure as to why, Maiya turned her head to glance at the burning houses. In the front door of one of them, an unknown figure stood at the entrance. They were completely faceless, with features so burnt she couldn’t recognise if they were hylian or not. Slowly, the figure seemed to click back to life, lifting a loaded bow and aiming the arrow for the space between her eyes.
“Ench...er…...leep!”
She flinched just as the arrow was released. The last thing she heard was the sound of wood crashing into the ground and anguished screams of the people around her.
“Lita! Grandma! The Enchanter fell asleep!”
Maiya groaned, rubbing away the small layer of crust from her eyes. She knew she was awake, yet could still smell the stench of smoke. “What?” Her voice was croaky, strained. Something small was pulling at her shirt sleeve, and yelling.
The clatter of objects were heard in the distance, then a familiar voice. “Kaneli!”
Where am I? She cracked her eyes open, alarmed to see that she was on the ground and surrounded by several open books. Must have fallen asleep reading. Sitting up slowly, she propped herself up with her free hand. Minding her stiff neck, she scrubbed her face with one of her hands, and looked up.
A tiny rito with a snowy face stood next to her.
He was covered in wild brown feathers and a mint green poncho. Little tufts of hair stood out on his head, barely held back by several colourful ribbons which all looked as if they were tied in a storm. He wasn’t looking at her, focused on pulling at her arm again with a franticness that made his talons click and slide against the floorboards. Maiya cleared her throat.
The little bird stopped, turning to look at her with wide, shocked eyes. He dropped her arm, and stood back, face betraying his awe. “You’re an Enchanter!” He blurted.
“Uh, yes?” Maiya said, feeling a bit hesitant under the weight of child’s scrutinizing gaze.
She blinked as Kaneli’s face broke out into a sunny smile. Inwardly, she grimaced. Too bright. He stamped his little talons in childish excitement. “Wow! Just like the stories! I always imagined you would be taller. Where’s your sealing hammer?”
“I left it in the forge, but why—”
“And your anvil?”
“Well. Blacksmith’s steel is a bit heavy to carry all the way from Akkala to—”
“And your enchanted weapon?”
Maiya sighed, sleepily reaching for the scabbard at her side. “It’s right—” She stopped, hands patting nothing but air. Frowning, she looked down. “Here?” The ornate scabbard was empty.
Her breath stopped. It was like being doused with freezing cold water. A lightning bolt of clarity ran up her spine, clearing her sleep clouded mind and awakening her to the realisation of one, crucial detail. The dagger was gone.
Wide-eyed, Maiya jolted up, her whole body tilting to the side from the vertigo. She quickly righted herself, ignoring the spinning of the room and whipped around frantically, desperately scanning the room for something sharp and definitely burning. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—
“Over here, ekantada.” Honoka’s voice echoed over her panicked thoughts like a bell in a storm.
She turned. The Elder stood by a long table at the northern end of the room, black safety goggles pulled over her glasses and obscuring her face. The kind older rito looked almost terrifying in the dimmer light, having donned a heavy leather apron and industrial half-sleeves to protect her wings. She was still as a statue, focusing as she appraised a dagger with a critical eye.
It wasn’t just any dagger. It was her dagger. Unsheathed, angry, and exposed to the chilly air.
What was most surprising however, was that instead of burning a hole through the Archivist’s floor, its hilt was held in the parallel jaws of an industrial vice. Maiya couldn't believe it. The clamp’s surface was cracked and sizzling, yet as it fought a losing battle against the red dagger, it remained miraculously intact.
Her first emotion was shock. Then—anger; molten and hot, threatening to bubble up and spill out as she marched towards Honoka, little Kaneli following nervously after her. “What are you doing? That is extremely dangerous!”
Honoka spared her an unconcerned glance and turned back to the dagger, watching as it spat scorching flames from its position at her table. The Archivist continued to write in her notebook. “Studying your handiwork,” she said, unperturbed. “You are very talented.”
“How,” Maiya seethed, fists clenching and unclenching. Her next words came out short and clipped. “How are you not burnt?”
Master Honoka gestured to a pile of ashen materials at her side, most of them emitting smoke and reduced to nothing but bent metal and rubble. “With great caution.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Honoka replied to Maiya’s agitation with diplomatic patience. “Think, hylianlla.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, Maiya bit her lip and did as she was told. Reluctantly, she turned her back on her dagger, walking up to the pile of discarded tools and roughly picking up a set of long, warped tongs. She held it up to the scant light of the room, angling it carefully. Little dust particles were interspersed in the air around her as she zeroed in her attention on the piece of metal. The sounds of Kamori asking his grandmother a question faded away as she focused.
With her gloved forefinger she brushed away the oxidized crust, flipping the blacksmith tongs to its side. She examined it, looking for the engraving of a familiar eye-symbol to confirm her thoughts. Yet, there was none.
There is only one logical reason, she thought, but it doesn’t make any sense. "How…" she mused aloud. "I thought Teacher and I had the only ones left."
Maiya looked to Honoka, perplexed. "The Royal Family had them destroyed thousands of years ago." She continued. From the corner of her eye, the fire from her dagger flared again, only to quickly be stifled as if sucked up into an invisible vacuum in the surrounding air.
“Wow…” she heard little Kaneli whisper.
After some deliberation, she finally voiced the burning question in her mind. “Are you telling me that this pile of warped metal are supposed to be Instruments?”
From the around the beginnings of her earliest memory, Maiya was taught the intricacies and history of her chosen field of study. What was left of it, at least. The first and last known makers of Enchanter's tools were the Sheikah. The books back in her mentor’s sanctum called them Instruments, tools that were essential in the smithing and Enchanting process.
These Instruments, whilst eventually breaking down, could withstand the might of most Enchanted objects, proving to be an essential part of the forge. Because of them, Enchanting became less of a lethal process, allowing the art to transition into an accessible skill thousands of years ago.
That’s all changed now, with the burying of history and the loss of almost all Instruments. Maiya knew that Teacher’s gear was passed down by her own mentor, and the mentor before them, and so on. Precious objects hidden from the Royal Family’s eyes at the price of potential treason for the protection of knowledge.
However, holding the rusted tongs in the air, weighty and industrial as they were, she did not feel the same energy running through her as she did with the tools back in Akkala. These Instruments were not of Sheikah make. Are they even Instruments at all?
Her arms dropped, shaking. She had so many questions. "Where did you get this? Who made this?"
The Archivist answered her. "These tools were given to me on indefinite loan sometime ago by the village's blacksmith."
The words were out of her mouth before she could think them through. "Is he an Enchanter as well?"
Honoka scoffed. "Hardly, and I suggest you don't call him that if you do see him. His distaste for your kind borders that of the imbecilic." She shook her head. "I digress. Did you see the oxidation and damage, young Enchanter?”
“I did.” Maiya nodded, looking at her fingers which had a smudge of rust. “I think I understand now. These tools were not properly imbued with whatever…ability the blacksmith was attempting to give them.”
She was missing something, and she had a feeling that Honoka was too. These pseudo-Instruments, warped and damaged as they are, still managed to withstand the fiery might of her dagger. For a few minutes, they bore the prolonged brunt of a weapon that had every intention to irreversibly destroy whatever touched it that it deemed unworthy. These Instruments, whilst not created by Sheikah hands, did whatever their instructions ordered them to do. Operating in the same way her scabbard and Teacher’s cloth did in stifling the flame, and they worked.
Maiya turned to look at the obsidian coloured vice at Honoka’s desk. It had begun to bubble now, softening. It was at the cusp of crumbling into pieces. Yet it continued to stand, holding her dagger and defying its predetermined destruction for several more minutes.
The Hylian pressed a knuckle to her temple, a headache building. There was someone in this village that knew how to make Instruments. No. There was someone in this village that was trying to make Instruments.
There was still another lingering thought which bothered her. "Why did you take my dagger?"
The Archivist snapped her notebook shut, prompting Maiya to glance up. Honoka reached over and picked up her cane once more, walking to her. "To get a closer look.”
“I admit,” She began as Maiya opened her mouth to retort, “your attachment is unusual, hylianlla. I was under the impression that Enchanters relinquished ownership of their creations with the final hit of the hammer."
Ouch.
The Enchanter swallowed her anger, feeling a pang of hurt in her chest. "That's because it is expected the weapon finds its Master not too long after it is forged." She paused, sensing the impending question in the air. "I'm working on it."
Elder Honoka pulled her black goggles up and onto her forehead, giving Maiya an unconcealed view of her scrutinising stare. Her grey eyes were sharp and clear, filled with wisdom and intelligence cultivated by years of research and experience.
"I'm sorry, Enchanter." Honoka said, genuinely. Wings at her side, she leaned into a low, apologetic bow.
"I…" Maiya stopped. I wasn’t expecting that. "It's alright. Just don't do it again."
Honoka shook her head once more, walking to the pile of books Maiya previously slept in. She picked up a tome from the heap. “I must explain my reasoning, hylianlla. When you showed that dagger to me the first time, something— or well, the lack of that something— caught my eye."
The rito flicked the book open, pages passing rapidly before she landed on a specific section Maiya couldn't quite discern. Kaneli next to her attempted to see the image, standing on the tips of his claws to peak into the book. The words were unintelligible, and her hands ached to take it to get a closer look.
Honoka’s head tilted to her, guessing her thoughts. “This is one of the more unusual additions in the collection. There is a powerful spell protecting it. You will fail to read it, as I have, no matter how straightforward the writing may seem.”
"However, we can still comprehend the images, and I’ve been able to develop some theories thanks to that fact. Enkantada, I implore that you listen closely. I’ve studied languages, both new and old for many years. This is one of the aspects of your people that had interested me the most."
In the dusty light, her glasses reflected what seemed to be boldly drawn lines on a page. "There are symbols made by the Sheikah that go beyond the function of the characters within the Sheikah script. These are characters that could mean entire objects, places, concepts, and in this case even instructions.”
In that moment, Maiya was acutely aware of the lines of scar tissue running along the surface of her left hand. Puckered skin that formed a symbol which had been helping her instruct the magical properties of all her failed enchanted prototypes, and the dagger which now stands burning in the corner.
“To my knowledge,” Honoka continued, “the Sheikah people from 10,000 years ago, those who have forged weapons of great elemental control, utilised these symbols. As Enchanters, you and your Teacher would have done the same. Yet,” she paused, gesturing to the enchanted dagger burning in its clamp. “Your blade bears no such markings.”
Maiya’s breath hitched. A bead of sweat ran down the back of her neck as Honoka flipped the book around. The rune for Fire stood out on the page, an almost exact mirror to the scar on her hand.
Master Honoka’s eagle eyes were trained on her again. In them there was no malice, but a cunning curiosity that made her nervous. “I wonder how that is possible?”
“I…” Unbeknownst to her, somewhere in the conversation she had set down the tongs, opting now to nervously pull at the leather glove which covered the buzzing rune at risk of burning a hole through the fabric. How much does Honoka know?
A gurgling noise echoed throughout the Archives, interrupting them. “Lita! Food please?” A small voice chirped.
The older Rito sighed, shaking her head with an indulgent smile. “We can discuss this later,” she said, pulling Maiya away from her thoughts, “You’ve been asleep for a while and lunch was many hours ago. My grandson has a point. You must be hungry.”
“Sit with me, Enchanter!”
“I’m—” Maiya cleared her throat, suddenly feeling parched. “If you just have a glass of water that would be great. You don’t have to serve me food, I can find some outside.”
“Nonsense.” Honoka said, swapping her heavy duty apron for a lighter, patterned one which hung at the back of one of the chairs. “Take a seat at a clean desk, I’ll go find some dried meats and cheeses for you.”
“Oh, and don’t forget to retrieve your dagger from the clamp.” She called over her shoulder, walking towards the backroom once more. Her voice began to trail away. “The scabbard is next to it at the table. Please do it soon. I already have a gap in my floorboards, so I would very much like to keep the rest of my home hole-free.”
Maiya silently drizzled butter over the honeyed rice pudding Honoka served as dessert, barely paying attention to the buzzing little rito next to her. Still shaken from earlier events, she felt her unease ironically lighten with the familiar weight of the dagger hanging at her hip. Kaneli, dwarfed by the towers of books around him, sat happy and content from his place at the table, swinging his legs with a bright smile on his beak. He asked her question after question, talking around his food which he dug into with cheerful gusto.
“Miss Enchanter, can you make other things? Things that are not fire?”
“Yes, or well, I should.” she replied, spooning a portion of the creamy pudding into her mouth. She hummed, pleased at the subtle sweetness. This isn’t so bad. “Historically we were able to make weapons that could emulate the power of many elements.”
“So that’s why you’re here. To see if lita’s books can help you?”
“Correct!” Maiya smirked. She chewed at her food thoughtfully. “Hey, you’re pretty observant for a five year old.”
Kaneli frowned, kicking up a sharp claw into the air. He curled his small wings into tinier fists, and tossed her the most severe glare he could muster with his big, baby blue eyes. Aww. “I’m six!”
Maiya laughed, then spooned in another mouthful of pudding. “Apologies, you are a very observant six year old.” For a second she allowed her gloomy mood to slip, stifling a giggle as Kaneli nodded to himself, as if to say ‘yes, indeed I am quite clever!’
Kaneli pouted and furrowed his brow. Puffing up his chest, he turned to look at her with mock seriousness, assessing something she wasn’t entirely sure of before saying “I forgive you.” Then, as if nothing happened, jumped straight back into questioning. “Miss Enchanter, did you find anything new in lita’s books?”
Maiya felt her levity drop like the petals of a wilted flower. “No.” And she was back to sad moping again. “Not yet, at least.”
“Oh,” Kaneli said. “Well—”
Both jumped as a loud knock resounded throughout the Archives.
Someone was outside.
“A moment!” Honoka called from the second floor. She flapped her wings, gracefully descending to the ground level. She took the cane strapped to her back, hobbling over to her front door and unlocking the gate. Seeing who was there, the older rito clicked her tongue in disapproval. “My dear, what are you doing at my doorstep instead of resting in your hammock? I keep telling you not to push yourself so far all the time! You look absolutely haggard.”
“Good evening, Master Honoka.” A familiar voice said, blatantly ignoring the previous admonishment. “Allin ch’isi, Amaut'a. I’ve brought something for you from the mountain vendor.”
Honoka moved to the side, giving Maiya a chance to peak at the mysterious stranger standing outside the door.
Oh.
Honoka sighed. “Hah, Master Revali. Qoyllur-cha. What am I going to do with you? Come inside and have some arroz con leche.”
Maiya quickly averted her eyes as the blue rito walked into the room. She could feel her heart beating to the sound of his talons lightly hitting the floorboards. He hasn’t seen me yet, she thought, and for a brief moment she weighed up the pros and cons of hiding underneath the table like a dumbass.
“What are you doing?” The little rito seated next to her asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion when he found the Enchanter sinking deeper into her seat, already halfway down.
She cringed, caught. “Uh…”
Then, the young rito’s head perked up, finally seeing who had entered the room. “Vali!” Kaneli yelled. Shoot.
The little rito bolted from his chair. He flapped his tiny wings, flying a few centimetres off the ground before colliding into the blue rito’s stomach with a muffled ‘ooft’. To her surprise, Revali chuckled, hoisting Kaneli high into the sky, before setting the laughing child on his shoulders.
He then turned, their eyes meeting. Maiya was sure that she’d hallucinated the easy smile he had a minute ago, as now a big irritating smirk dominated the rest of his face.
“Ah, what a coincidence, enchanter. I was wondering where you were.”
“She’s trying to hide from you, Vali!”
“I am not!” Maiya sat up quickly, accidentally slamming her kneecap into the table. Ow!
Honoka clicked her tongue again, watching the scene with a small, exasperated smile on her face. She held a bag of parsnips in one wing. “Alright, enough of that for now. Take a seat Master Revali, and please, put my grandson down.”
“Aww! But lita!”
Maiya returned to reading soon after, an air of awkwardness lingering as both rito warrior and hylian guest attempted not to pay attention to the other. She finished the rice pudding quickly, diving back into taking notes from the multiple books around her as Honoka and Revali discussed the events of the day. On the floor not too far away, Kaneli lay on his stomach, kicking his legs in the air and busying himself with his crayons and paper.
“Thank you for the parsnips, Revali. These will go very well in a soup. Is June still selling his produce up there? I heard the weather and bad-company has gotten worse lately.”
“As it always does on the approach to the winter months, Master Honoka. With regards to the sudden rise in Yiga activity, Chief Kamori had increased patrols along several of the mountain routes. I’m confident we’ll have the rabble cleaned up by the end of the Solstice.”
The Enchanter adjusted her chair, accidentally jarring the careful stack of books in front of her. The tower wobbled and shook, sending the volume at its top tumbling to the side. Maiya reached her gloved hand out, quickly swiping it from the air before it could hit the ground.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she gazed down at the book in her hands, letting out a bewildered “Huh?”
It was the same book that Honoka had held a while ago. This close, and she could tell that it was torn and quite dirty. Gently, she blew out a small breath against its surface, watching as dust particles lifted and departed, floating in the air. What she thought was a light, grey cover, was actually an extremely faded blue. It was barely holding on by its bindings, looking as if it had been thrown out a window, dragged through the dirt—
And perhaps set on fire, Maiya thought, running a finger over its singed corners.
She looked at its title, eyes tracing over the lines and grooves of the foreign symbols, committing them to memory. She blinked once, then twice, then took a few minutes to consult Honoka’s language guides. Confused, Maiya found herself unable to remember what she’d just seen.
The Enchanter frowned, reading the title once more. The Sheikah-like characters sharpened then blurred, as if her brain was refusing to cooperate and make the final connection. There was that feeling again, that turning sensation in her gut that she was missing something.
The book was completely incomprehensible.
Great, I can’t read. Maiya rubbed her eyes, cracking it open. Page after page of text and runes produced the same results. Finally, she landed on a purely illustrated section. Unlike most of the book, it wasn’t a rune that dominated the page. Instead, a complicated pyramid like structure stood out to her at its centre. Carefully drawn, it was divided into two, showing a simplistic exterior and greatly detailed interior of trap doors and hidden chambers.
What stood out to her the most, however, was the short column at its doorway, building up and forming around a flat, disk shaped platform at its top. It was a terminal pedestal, but without an ornamental sculpture.
Odd choice for decoration, she thought.
The pedestal was the darkest and most inked part of the blueprint. The artist had painted a swathe of colour, a bright ribbon of vivid sapphire, to mimic the movement of a river or a snake. It ran from the terminal’s top and into the ground and roots below, flowing and following the bottom border until it disappeared at the end of the page.
“What do you have there?” A voice whispered near her ear.
“Nothing.” Maiya said quickly. Slamming the book shut, she turned around, lips sinking into an automatic frown at how close the blue rito stood.
Revali raised a feathered brow, leaning away. “Very well. I hate to cut your research short, Hylian, but I have orders to escort you around the village before sundown.”
Maiya frowned. “Explain.”
The rito sighed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "Chief Kamori believes that as a guest who had never stepped foot on our village grounds before, it would be rather injudicious of us not to give you a tour of the town."
Maiya opened her mouth to refuse, citing that she'd already had a good enough look around, before a pair of tiny wings pushed a piece of paper in front of her nose. "Look, Enchanter!" Kaneli smiled.
A poorly drawn sketch of a red dagger was on the page. It was shooting flames like a sparkler, lending its light to a few fireworks in the sky. Several thick arrows were positioned near the edge of the weapon, pointing to a section of the blade. Maiya's eyes followed them, seeing that they were leading her to the dagger's fuller, where a few squiggles were gathered together.
"The stories say a long, long time ago, Enchanted weapons had drawings that helped them make fire or ice and stuff." The young rito bowed his head, shuffling his feet. "Yours doesn't though, so I drew some to help."
Maiya was silent, staring at Kaneli's interpretation of runic inscription. Her mind flashed to the way her dagger spluttered and fought as it was held in the vice grip of the melting clamp. The blacksmith. She needed to find him.
According to Honoka he had a dislike for Enchanters. Fine. It made things difficult, but Maiya knew that she needed to find him. A potential lack of cooperation was just another setback she had to overcome. Visiting Honoka had left her with more questions than answers, and this knowledge of the village’s blacksmith having an interest in Instruments was her best lead so far. It would be a waste to ignore it.
"Thank you, Kaneli." She said sincerely.
The young Rito beamed.
"Very well," Maiya decided, crossing her arms. She angled her head up to look at Revali, trying to appear as authoritative as possible. "I'll go, but I want you to show me where the village forge would be. I'm curious as to what your local weapons look like." For a second, she saw hesitancy flash in both Revali and Honoka's eyes. They turned to each other, a silent battle ensuing as the two ritos communicated via raised eyebrows and pointed looks.
"I can learn a thing or two as well whilst I'm there." She added, trying to sound reasonable.
Finally, Revali sighed, walking to the front door. “Sure, whatever. Now say your goodbyes and catch up will you?"
Maiya rolled her eyes. I don’t appreciate your tone, jerk. Carefully, she placed Kaneli’s drawing into her journal and stored them both into her backpack. Whilst Honoka was preoccupied scolding Revali about his sleep patterns, she slipped the unusual book inside as well.
Honoka held her grandson’s wing as she walked her guests to the door. “Young Enchanter, I expect to see your face again. Don’t keep the collection waiting. I hope to hear more of your findings at a later date."
“I’ll try to be back soon.” Maiya said noncommittally, hoisting the small bag over her shoulders.
Elder Honoka playfully swatted Revali’s back with her cane. The aforementioned rito jumped in surprise. "Take care, Qoyllur-cha. Don’t get the hylian in any sort of trouble.” Honoka smiled, crows feet creasing as she adopted a mischievous tone. “Now that I’ve met her, I do agree with what you said yesterday. She is quite an interesting visitor.”
Revali pinched the space above his beak. “Please stop talking, Master Honoka.”
The silence that ensued as they left was tense, but expected. Revali walked up the main staircase quickly, Maiya keeping up behind him with minimal difficulty. Once they reached the top floor, the rito’s pace slowed. He looked behind him once to ensure she was there, leading her to one of the nearby departure decks.
With his back to her, Revali approached the edge of the platform, stopping before the drop. His eyes were trained on something in the distance, and for a moment he stood very still, seeing or feeling something she couldn’t. Maiya looked around, taking in the panoramic view of mountains and treetops around them. It was a few minutes before sunset, a hint of orange already beginning to appear behind the grey cumulus clouds that had gathered throughout the afternoon. In the trees beyond, wild birds began to chirp. It felt nice. Serene even.
“Get on my back."
The Enchanter paused, looking at the rito wide-eyed as a blush began to colour her face. "P-pardon—”
Revali exhaled a deep, world-weary sigh, before bending down on one knee, bracing both wings on the ground as if preparing for a sprint. "Farore Above, have the winds carried your hearing away? Get on my back, we don't have much daylight left."
Maiya blinked, walking forward. Unsure of what to do, she threw all caution to the wind and grasped his shoulder, hoisting herself up. The hylian shifted uncomfortably, slipping to the left as her hands tried to find purchase on the blue rito's back.
Yanking a bit too forcefully, a feather came loose in her grasp. Mortified, she sucked in a shaky breath. She quickly pocketed it, lest her reluctant chauffeur were to see and drop her as soon as they were in the air. "Is this...is this really necessary?"
"Believe me," Revali replied, looking over his shoulder to throw her an expression akin to that of a poked Honeyvore Bear, "I'm asking myself the same question right now, but whatever Chief Kamori says, goes."
"...Even if the request is utterly pointless and extremely undignified." He muttered to himself, the aside purposefully loud enough for her to catch it.
Asshole.
"What was that?"
Oh, shit!
"Uh," Maiya blanked, "I said, 'that's cool'".
Another awkward silence settled between them as she finally decided that kneeling on his back and bending down to throw both arms around his shoulders to stabilise herself was the best course of action. The only issue being that this placed his head uncomfortably close to her own, his bronze pauldrons nearly brushing her cheek.
The winds on the edge of the departure deck blew heavy in her face, making her eyes feel irritated and watery.
Maiya looked away, focusing on the rito in front of her instead. This close and she could see the minute imperfections on his yellow beak. There was a small white line, about four centimetres in length, running along its side as thin as a thread.
A gust of air blew past them, making goosebumps appear on her arms. Reflexively, she gripped him tighter, holding him close to feel the warmth of his back against her shivering chest. She exhaled, the heat of her breath mingling with the cold air, creating a white cloud in the space between her mouth and his cheek.
Revali froze.
The Enchanter briefly wondered if he had reached the end of his patience. Didn’t an important warrior like himself have other pressing matters to attend to today? She wouldn’t be surprised if he was ready to toss her back onto the wooden deck and walk away, Chief’s orders be damned.
"Hey, you know, if this too weird I can always walk."
"No.” The rito warrior spoke, voice heavy with irritation. "Let's just get this over and done with."
Suddenly, the lean muscle beneath her tensed. Revali’s wings extended with a dramatic fwip, fanning at his sides in preparation. His feathers were a sea of blue around her. Filling her line of vision, everywhere and in her peripheries.
One flap, and they hovered. Maiya bit back a vulgar swear as her grasp around his shoulders tightened.
He laughed mockingly. "Is the mighty enchanter afraid of heights?"
"No. I'll be alright, just give me a warning before we fl— AAAAAAAAH!!!"
Without a word, Revali dove off the edge, and the world tilted.
Maiya shrieked, feeling her stomach drop as Revali sent them both into freefall. She shut her eyes, clutching onto him for dear life as the winds around them twisted and turned, whipping past at unbelievable speeds. It was loud. Deafening. Howling like the call of a storm.
Gravity sat heavy on her back, pressure building around her as the ground steadily raced to meet them. Maiya’s heart began to beat rapidly, hammering a heavy rhythm like a war drum in her chest. A warm blush crept up her neck, filling her cheeks and the tips of her ears with a rosy hue. She had to remind herself to breathe.
Amidst all this, she could still briefly register the fresh scent of pine and feel the icy snap of air rushing around her. Cold. Untouched. Free. It was like all her senses were alive, her brain firing messages faster than her mind could fully process.
Inching and creeping like a troublesome snake, Maiya could register the small warning pinpricks of pain travelling along the surface of her left hand. Her eyes widened, no longer in excitement but in panic. Her mind flicked to her gloved hand braced tightly around Revali’s shoulder, already imagining the blue light leaking from the scar’s edges. This is bad, this is very bad. The rune was going to activate at any second and fry both her and her pilot.
The adrenaline rush was terrifying. Amazing. Though if it didn't stop soon, it was going to kill them both.
I’m safe! She mentally chanted. She willed the bubbling energy to recede, her panicked thoughts escaping her as whispered words lost in the wind. “I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.”
As if in hearing her, she felt the speed of their plummet slow, followed by the sound of wings flapping. The pair dipped further, the blue of the waters below getting closer, then suddenly. Whoosh. They changed trajectory—arcing up.
Revali caught the gale, cutting and carving a path away from the ground. Hastening them forward to meet the sky.
From the small cracks between her eye-lids, Maiya could see the light shifting as the world re-oriented itself once more. Her ears popped from the dramatic change in pressure. Head spinning, she briefly contemplated letting go completely and letting herself fall into the depths below. Which was unusual since it involved saving the life of the rito she disliked so much at the expense of her own safety. Damnnit. She knew the fire was going to reach him anyhow, and when it did it was going to send both of them falling anyway. There was not enough time. This was it. Make a decision! This is—
“Ahem.”
Revali cleared his throat, wrenching the Enchanter from her racing thoughts.
"You can look up now."
Maiya peeked an eye open, noticing with belated embarrassment that she had burrowed her face into the rito’s feathered neck. Scrunching her nose in disgust, she pulled away, eyes blinking to adjust to the bright light around her.
Whilst the breeze still blew heavy in her face, the world had stopped spinning. It sat before her now, drifting in a haze of orange and blue. The cacophony of sound in her ears had also dulled to a light whistle, leaving her ears ringing.
Yes. Evidently, they had ceased falling.
Remembering the near disaster from awhile ago, Maiya quickly lifted her gloved hand, ignoring Revali’s questioning look. Sighing in relief, she found that the fire had not activated, the single glove’s surface free of scorch marks. That was too close.
Reigning in her galloping heart, Maiya took three careful breaths and lifted herself back up into a semi-kneeling position. Chancing a look at the world they were currently soaring above, she gasped.
They were high-up.
Extremely, high-up.
They were flying several metres above the apex of the village, the zenith of Valoo’s Spire slowly materializing beneath as the canopy of clouds surrounding them began to clear. The winds at this height were strong, but Revali expertly navigated around them, tilting his wings and angling in a way that placed them at an easy glide.
From their vantage point in the sky, the entire Tabantha Frontier was spread out before her. All around them were trees upon trees, forests filled with conifer evergreens still lush with emerald leaves even in the approach to the colder months.
In the west, rocky cliff faces weathered by time took up most of the view, whilst in the east she could vaguely see the way in which the earth cracked and dipped. It was Tanagar Canyon, cutting through the land like a jagged scar.
To the north were the Hebra Mountains. Dangerous and dignified. If the stories were correct, it was home to all kinds of monsters and secrets. Their snow-covered peaks rose to the sky as if to stab the blue expanse, disappearing under the misty cloud cover that rose higher than the height even she and Revali were at right now.
And in the middle of all this, directly below them, was Rito Village. Maiya could feel the terror in her heart fizzle as she took in the village in its entirety. She’d never seen anything like it before.
Valoo’s Spire stood tall and proud in the centre of a massive body of water. It served as the main supporting structure for the Rito’s huts. Like lanterns on a hook, albeit heavier and less fragile, the huts hung from rock formations which jutted out from the spire like outstretched arms. Maiya noticed that most of the homes were wooden brown and slightly curved, reminding her of baskets or bells.
Instead of spreading out horizontally like most places in Hyrule, Rito Village was built upwards, a vertical village reaching to the sky. From this vantage point she could see the whole grand staircase which ran along the spire like an unravelling spiral, splitting into various departure decks at random intervals closer to the top. Buildings and smaller huts appeared in each level, with patterned cloth banners decorating almost every home, waving in the wind and painting the village in various swathes of vivid colour.
"Wow…," she whispered.
"Yes, I know," Revali's voice broke through her thoughts, reminding her of exactly who she was with right now. "A fine specimen such as myself in flight is a sight to behold."
Maiya’s easy smile sunk faster than a faulty boat on an icy lake as she regarded the blue rito beneath her. "Hylia, not you. I'm talking about your village!"
Squinting her eyes, Maiya could see the movement of the Rito and other travellers of Hyrule as they went about their business. Some seemed to be waving goodbye or closing shop, and she realised belatedly how late in the day it already was. Amongst the various houses she could pick out the few that she’d been to; Kamori’s Hut, Swallow’s Roost and even Honoka’s Archive.
The question left her mouth before she could reign in back in. “Where’s your place?”
“Over there, the hut with the blue banners, a floor below Kamori's.” Revali replied.
Maiya fidgeted, leaning forward to get a closer look. The rito grunted. “Hey, watch it! Keep throwing your weight too far to one side and you’re gonna tip us over.”
But it was too late. The Enchanter continued to peer to the side, inadvertently bracing herself to the left, off-balancing the pair and sending them into a brief spin. Maiya yelped in surprise as the calm world around her fell away again. “Shoot! Sorry!”
Revali made an irritated sound at the back of his throat, wings straining as he reeled them back into their previous glide in seconds.
Silence reigned as the pair regained their breath. Revali angled his head to scowl at her. “Did you leave your brain back in Honoka’s Archive, or have you always been this senseless?”
Maiya hung her head sheepishly, attempting to avoid his gaze and failing horribly. ��Okay in all honesty, my bad. Learned my lesson there.”
Revali sighed, briefly considering if pushing the subject was worth it, and ultimately decided to let it go. Instead, the annoyance on his face slid into an expression of thinly veiled suspicion. “Why did you ask?”
Maiya tilted her head, confused. “Ask what?”
“Why did you want to know where I lived?”
“Not really sure,” she admitted, looking back at the village next to them. In one of the upper levels, a pink feathered villager stood at the front porch of a hut, waiting as the main door was opened by another rito who swept them up into a tight embrace. The Enchanter smiled. “Perhaps I’m just curious. Everyone’s going home, tonight. Isn’t your family waiting for you?”
He snorted. “How old do you think I am?”
Maiya coughed. “Age has nothing to do with it! I meant l...well— I'm not asking if you're married with kids or anything." She paused, realising how that came out. "Which is totally fine if you are. There's nothing wrong with that at your age. Which I don't know. It's really a personal preference kind of thing anyway and— "
“Twenty-six.”
“Pardon?”
Revali sniffed derisively, shaking his head. "I'm twenty-six years old. I have no attachments, romantic or otherwise. I'd discovered long ago that they're mere disturbances in my journey to achieve my goals."
"That's fair." She said quickly. Unbeknownst to him, the Enchanter frowned, remembering the grandfatherly way in which Chief Kamori regarded him and the admiration in young Kaneli's eyes when he entered the room. A life alone, even in dedicating yourself to your dreams, couldn’t be an easy one.
Look who’s talking, the nagging voice in her head said.
Well, that’s because I didn’t have much of a choice. She mentally shot back.
Maiya stared at the back of Revali’s head, looking at him the same way one would assess a difficult puzzle. Surely he hasn't pushed all of them away.
She wondered briefly what kind dream he was working towards to warrant such isolation and focus, making a move to ask him, but decided against it when a strong gust of wind blew past them. Revali gracefully caught it, sharply angling them to the side without a word. Maiya yelped, gripping onto his back to avoid slipping and plummeting to a certain death.
The wind ruffled her hair and dislodged her bandana, the piece of cloth unknotting.
"Wait, no!" Maiya cried. Alerted by the sound of her voice, Revali glanced at her, watching as she reached out helplessly as the yellow cloth slipped through her fingers and was taken away by the breeze. To her dismay, it disappeared into the white sheet of clouds, gone from her line of sight in seconds.
Immediately, her uneven midnight hair opened and fanned around her, tangling and waving in the crisp windy air. Maiya growled, resisting the urge to grab the rito and shake him. "Shit! We really need to work on you saying something before you do something like that."
Revali’s jade eyes rose to look at her, and Maiya steeled herself for the retort. Brushing her hair away from her eyes, she gritted her teeth. Glancing down, she was surprised to see that the rito’s beak was snapped shut. He was staring, but not in irritation, looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.
Maiya felt her annoyance grow. “What? Admiring your handiwork?" She hastily grabbed the flying locks, attempting to bundle them up and tuck them into the collar of her jacket.
Very creative haircut indeed. You could even call the means of achieving it 'lethal'! What an ass.
Revali blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever trance he was in. Hilariously, the feathers surrounding his neck puffed up. "It's nothing." He said, voice clipped. Immediately, he tore his eyes away from hers, turning his head back around.
She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
The pair continued to soar above the village. After a few minutes, Maiya felt an unusual buzzing in her legs, pins and needles making her feet go numb. It was a precursor to the anxiety stemming from her prolonged lack of connection to the solid ground, and the fact that the chances of her surviving a fall right now would be rather miraculous.
She swallowed her fear, facing forward and forcing herself not to think about it. “I know Chief Kamori wanted you to take me on a tour, but any reason why it had to be up here instead safe on the ground? ”
“If you stop catastrophizing then perhaps you’ll find out in a minute.”
Maiya freed a hand to scratch the back of her neck, “Fine.” She conceded. I need a distraction. “Then actually give me a ‘tour’ of your village and tell me about the houses below us.”
Revali’s response was nothing but diplomatic. “Very well. There’s a few to get through. It would be helpful if you could be more specific.”
“Okay, how about the one with the lanterns still burning bright. Near the bottom of the Spire. Everyone had dimmed their lights, how come they’re the exception?”
“You’re looking at either Slippery Falcon or Brazen Beak. Those two shops are one of the first to transition into their winter hours. Business lasts long after dark, and they capitalize on the tired tourists who walk in during all hours of the night searching for gear or a warm meal. The owners had been competing with each other for generations.”
Maiya was surprised that she did not detect any hint of derision in his tone throughout the entire explanation. “Are their wares any good?”
“They are some of the hardest workers in this village. There is little else to explain.”
She nodded to herself. Interesting. “Alright. Tell me about the one with the blue flower boxes.”
“If it has three white flags with the green cross, that’s the clinic. It’s also the home of our healer, Ahn. They can stitch anything back together, even whilst asleep— as the rumour goes.”
Maiya thought about it for a second, trying to imagine what that would look like. “Stitch anything, huh? Including you?”
He snorted. “No comment.”
She thought of the scar on his beak. “You would think that a warrior gets hurt pretty often.”
“An obvious hazard of my occupation, but it had seldom given me any issue.” Revali said, unbothered. If he wasn’t so focused flying, he would have tossed a wing up as if to say ‘Bah! Preposterous!’ “My use of the bow and command over the sky takes precision. It’s very rare that an enemy lands a hit on me.”
Maiya chose to ignore his humble brag and changed the subject. “What’s that cave over there? The one just above the water?”
Revali huffed at her obvious diversion but chose to let it go. He looked at the direction she was pointing to, and suddenly fell quiet. Unlike his previous responses, he took a moment to mull over his reply. His next words to her were unusually tentative, short. “The blacksmith.”
“Excellent,” Maiya smiled. “You can drop me off just outside his door. I’ll find my way back up from there.”
Another gust of wind flew past them, and Revali tilted along with it. But she was prepared this time, grabbing his shoulders until he righted them once more. “Why are you so adamant to see him?” He asked after he had steadied them.
She rolled her eyes. “Why are you and Elder Honoka so concerned about him meeting me? I can take a grumpy rito.” In fact, I’m doing that right now.
“He won’t be as accommodating as many of the others you’ve met recently.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll find a way.”
Revali turned to look at her again, green eyes sharp, assessing her. “You’re serious?” She glared back defiantly, unwilling to fold. The rito raised a yellow feathered eyebrow in her direction and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Very well, but don’t say we didn’t tell you so.”
“Tell me what?”
He sighed. “You’ll see.”
She opened her mouth to ask what that meant, but stopped when she felt the temperature of the wind around her change. Braids waving in the air, Revali smirked at her. “You should stop gaping at me and look around you, enchanter.”
Maiya disregarded his teasing but nonetheless acquiesced, tilting her head up.
Eyes meeting the sky, she gasped.
It was as if the goddess Hylia herself had taken her brush and dragged it across the sky. The world around them had exploded in colour, painting the bright expanse in reds, pinks and greys to form one of the most dazzling sunsets she had ever seen. From their place in the sky, Rito Village looked like a sparkling jewel. Encased in light, the beauty of the eventide had cast a comforting glow against many of the bell-shaped wooden structures, filling her with a nostalgia for a place that was entirely new to her.
Emboldened by the warmth surrounding her, Maiya took a chance and gazed at the ground below. Like a mirror, the heavens were reflected off the crystalline lake surrounding Valoo’s Spire, both clouds and the village mingling with the glow of the sinking sun.
Revali glanced at her, expression pleased at her obvious wonder. “Seeing as you’re only here for a limited time, I thought it would be a shame for you to miss this.”
"Rito Village is already quite beautiful from the ground," she heard Revali murmur, his voice reverberating into her chest. The metal beads in his feathers glinted in the orange light, "but nothing can compare to what it looks like from the sky."
Maiya hummed in agreement. The blue rito would have seen this sunset for all his life, yet it was nice knowing he still felt awed at the phenomena. The way he spoke of his village in this light, it was like he was looking at it for the first time. The thought warmed her, making her heart beat deeply at the wistful and reverent tone of his voice.
The sunlight glinted off his pauldrons, making her squint as it momentarily blinded her. Maiya rubbed her eyes, in that moment remembering where she was and who she was thinking about. She mentally flushed her previous thoughts away, feeling silly. The high-altitude is getting to you.
From the corner of her eye she saw some of the feathers in his wings change direction, a telltale sign that they were going to descend very soon. “Hey, hold on.” She had one more thing to bring up. “Before we head back down there to the blacksmith,” her voice darkened, taking on a cutting edge that she rarely used. “What in Din’s name was that a while ago? Diving off the ledge? Was that really necessary?”
He didn’t waste a second. “The additional weight meant it was especially imperative for me to generate enough force to catch the wind and get us in the air.” As scientific as his explanation was, his voice was thick with arrogance, haughtiness back in full force. “Sustaining flight with the additional baggage is not an easy feat, mind you. It’s not my fault that a Hylian such as yourself can’t appreciate the art of my technique.”
Did he just call me heavy?
Maiya seethed. “Still, a little warning would have been great.”
She was shocked by his speedy response. “Alright.”
The Enchanter scoffed. “Well that was easy.”
Quickly, Revali changed the direction of his wings, the muscles below her tensing again as he angled downwards. He chuckled. “You might want to hold on tight.”
“What?!”
“And that was your warning.”
Maiya screamed again, hiding her head in the crook of the rito’s neck once more. Her angry swears were only matched by Revali’s raucous laughter, echoing in her ears as they plummeted for the second time that day.
If a person below gazed up at that moment, they would have believed a shooting star had raced across its canvas. As a streak of blue, volatile and electrifying, left a frantic trail of sapphire light in its wake, piercing through the fading light.
#revali#botw#breath of the wild#revali x oc#loz botw#legend of zelda#botw fanfiction#revali botw#rito#rito botw#botw fic#fanfiction#writing#enemies to friends to lovers#paellaplease#firebird botw#maiya botw
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Im biting your art and shaking it around like a wild feral animal (positive)
One of my favorite things about this app is opening it and seeing the most unhinged wild complements thank you lmao /gen
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Your beamed
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yes i 🅱️ucking am now answer my 🅱️ucking 🅱️magine 🅱️ench
blockedt
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send 👐+ any question you wish to ask my muse. they will have no choice but to answer truthfully. — chanwoo & goeun — @mallbax
Por quê você me enche tanto o saco?
“Honestamente? No começo eu achava engraçado pra caralho te ver toda bravinha e irritadinha por causa do que eu falava e depois te mandar uma foto e deixar você toda sem palavras e ameaçando me bloquear. Era maravilhoso. Mas depois daquela festa… caralho, eu não consegui mais tirar você da minha cabeça, e eu odeio isso, puta que pariu. Eu odeio que a única garota que me odeia nessa faculdade inteira é a garota que eu mais quero ter, e eu percebi que o único jeito de chamar sua atenção era continuar agindo da mesma forma que antes. Então eu não parei. Eu continuei e eu adoro ter sua atenção pra mim, mesmo que seja só xingamentos. E eu sei que você ainda me odeia, então eu não vou parar, a não ser que você me diga explicitamente que você cansou de mim, que você não quer que eu fale mais com você. Porque porra, Goeun, eu não quero parar de falar com você.”
#he's in so deep for her :(#・‥ ☆ ━ 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗲 ━ 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘰#・‥ ☆ ━ 𝗼𝘁𝗽 ━ 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘰 & 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘶𝘯#・‥ ☆ ━ 𝗮𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝘀#☆ ━ 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘣𝘢𝘹
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@sweathands did art for this AU and it inspired me to write more for it (so I’ve basically been listening to “If I Can’t Love Her” for four days straight) so HERE YOU GO PEOPLE. I’m not smart in the ways of tagging folks who want to be tagged in things because I’m always going to forget or miss people, so OP is the only one I’ll tag. (Also I saw an ask just before posting this of someone else wanting to continue this AU, and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or enthusiasm so heck yeah friendos write to your heart’s content, this is my continuation but the world wants yours as well.)
There will be more coming later once my homework is finished.
There may come a day when my procrastination fails and I get an AO3 account, but it is not this day!
- - - - - - - - - -
The dinner provided by the castle servants was wonderful, in Aziraphale’s opinion. A number of dishes were placed in front of him and he was sure to sample at least a little from each. There were soups, there were pies, there were roasts, and he wasn't quite sure what the grey stuff was, but it was delicious.
Across the ornate table, Crowley watched him eat. The snake’s meal had consisted of two or three plucked waterfowl – Aziraphale hadn’t looked closely but he wasn’t entirely sure they’d been cooked – which he’d swallowed whole immediately. That was apparently it for him as far as food was concerned, though drink seemed another matter entirely. The end of his tail stayed wrapped around an oversized goblet, one durable enough that he had no trouble lifting it to periodically pour wine down his throat. Now, though, his coils were draped lazily over the chair in only the barest approximation of sitting, eyes on his dinner companion.
“Finding your way around so far, are you?”
“Yes, thank you,” Aziraphale nodded over a forkful of potatoes. “I haven’t had much time yet to look around but it’s still a refreshing change from the cell.”
“Castle treating you all right then?”
“Just fine, I think, if a bit sparsely decorated. I'm afraid I haven't much point of reference. I've never spent time in an enchanted castle before.”
“Demonic castle,” Crowley corrected coolly, tipping wine down his throat and having the glass quickly refilled again. “We are, all of us, damned.”
“So that makes you a demon then?”
“Suppose it must.” The snake eyed him with something approaching fondness. “That doesn't frighten you.” It wasn’t a question.
Aziraphale shrugged. “It did at first, I’ll admit. You were oh-so-furious about the rosebush and I’d never had a snake speak to me before, much less swear so viciously. But you’ve been quite nice since then.”
Something dangerous flashed through the yellow eyes. “I am not nice. That’s something you’d better get through your head quickly, Angel, before you get yourself into trouble. You have no idea what I’m capable of. I am not nice.”
“Dually noted,” Aziraphale nodded, unconvinced. “But I am curious as to what this whole business is all about. For example, why is there an ench- excuse me - a demonic castle just off by itself in the woods, populated by such…colourful entities as yourself and your servants? The furniture I spoke to earlier said something about being Forgiven-”
“That's not for you to concern yourself with,” Crowley cut him off. “While I admire the curiosity, in this case the answer makes no difference. It is what it is and it’s not likely to change anytime soon.” Snake coils shifted in the impression of an exaggeratedly-careless shrug. “No sense in you worrying about it, really.”
“I see. Though come to think of it, when you said ‘we are all damned’, did that include me?”
“What? No,” Crowley waved the wine goblet dismissively. “You weren’t within the castle grounds when the curse was cast so you’re fine.”
“So there’s a curse!” Aziraphale smacked the table triumphantly.
Crowley sputtered, starting a dozen different words and not finishing any of them. Finally he settled back into his chair, caught somewhere between irritation and admiration. “All right, fine, I’ll give you that one. Clever one, aren’t you? Yes, there’s a curse but it won’t affect you. It’s best not to think on it too hard, no reason to get worked up about it. I do want you to be at ease in the castle since you’ll be staying here forever.”
Aziraphale paused with a bite of blueberry tart halfway to his mouth as the words sank in. “Oh,” he said quietly.
Crowley perked up at his tone. “‘Oh.’ What's the ‘oh’ for?”
“It's just…forever?”
“Yes, what about it?”
“Well, forever is quite a long time.”
“Yeah, that's why they call it ‘forever.’”
Aziraphale set the dessert fork down on his plate unfinished. “I had rather hoped that this would be a temporary engagement. Not that I haven't enjoyed the company, all things considered. It has been a very nice distraction from the normal grind of things…”
“Dissstraction?” Crowley hissed, slighted.
“But I had expected I'd...you know, serve out a sentence of some sort for a given length of time and then return to the village.”
“Yeah no, doesn't work like that. You're better with books than any of this lot.” He jerked the goblet at the servants' door. “I’ve ordered you to stay, and you will stay. You'll choose a room you like and that will be that. You will do whatever pleases you until lunchtime, dine with me at meals, and for the rest of the afternoon and evening you will read aloud to me.”
“Oh will I?” Aziraphale's eyebrow quirked halfway between amusement and indignation.
Crowley stared back at him with unblinking slitted eyes. “Yes,” he said seriously. “You will.”
“And if I should refuse this…this structuring of the rest of my life?”
“Then you’re welcome to spend the rest of your days reading to me from your cell in the dungeon,” Crowley answered darkly. “It’s a good offer and you really ought to take it. We've been getting on well; I don't see what your problem is.”
“My problem is that I am a person, not an automaton to read to and entertain you at your leisure. I have a home of my own and a duty to the business that I run there, and I should like to return to it at some point.”
Crowley rose slowly from the chair, towering above the table. If he’d been a cobra, Aziraphale imagined he’d be flaring his hood. “You'll remember that you are my prisssssoner,” he hissed icily.
“Well then I should like to appeal to your better nature-”
The snake let out a harsh, barking laugh. “Better nature! Need I remind you who you're dealing with, Angel? I'm a demon. I don't have a better nature.”
“Surely we could bargain down to a shorter timeframe-”
“You will sssstay and you will like it!” Crowley’s jaws snapped the air above the table with an awful sound of finality.
“Fine.” Aziraphale was unable to hold back the sarcasm as he took the napkin from his lap and folded it across his plate in preparation to stand. “Just fine. I don't know what I would tell the others when I returned anyway. I'm sure they'd all be thrilled to hear that I was fraternising with a demon.”
“Fraternissse!” In one fluid motion the snake was across the table, and Aziraphale pressed himself backwards into the chair as the fangs gleamed inches from his face. “Undersssstand thissss, or I’ll make sssure you never have anyone to fraternissse with ever again: What I want, I keep. Get comfy, Angel. Thisss place will either be your home or your grave. Your choicccce.”
And he slithered from the hall, the door slamming shut behind him.
Hear me out:
A Good Omens... Beauty and the Beast AU.
That is all.
#I didn't work at WDW for 7 years to NOT write a GO Beauty and the Beast AU#Crowley: This situation is going well; better PANIC at the first sign of losing it and clamp down#i haven't watched this film in like a decade how do I remember almost every line#me: don't steal lines directly from the movie#also me: aw fuck it#the more you tighten your grip demon the more angels will slip through your fingers#good omens#Beauty and the beast au#whoops I made it angsty sorry not sorry#MORE TO COME#the grey stuff is delicious unless you're at WDW where it's literally just the same icing they serve on everything just colored grey#long post#Spark rants in the tags
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✌ : favourite proverb/saying from your language. Also I wanted to say that I love all these asks you're doing! It's so nice to get to know the person behind a blog, and you seem pretty cool :)
✌ : favourite proverb/saying from your language ,,,, i’ve answered this one, but im gonna say another one, because they’re cool,, “ grão a grão enche a galinha o papo “, this one translates to something like “ little by little, the hen fills her tummy “; it means that if you really want to do something, if you have a little patience, eventually you’ll achieve it?? something like that kajsdhld
thank u so much for asking, and for being kind! i really like answering these, but i’m “scared” people think im annoying, eh asdklhda
language asks!
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She winces as Jade pushes into the tube, a very faint glow starting to show just under her dress. It’s clear she’s taking every ounce of restraint to keep her composure up. “Oh, j-just a little e-ench-chantment, a-a little v-oodoooo...~” she answers, her lower lip trembling and her knees shaking. Jade can feel a familiar warmth around her sex, the device seeming to contract and release around her despite no visible changes in the exterior.
“This i-is, o-of course, an i-implicit and e-enthus-siastic consent t-to use this... whenever you- mmmh- want. It will s-simply shut at the e-ends if I will it to. F-fuck!” Rose curses, her hands wringing as she falls to her knees, her thighs curving inward. Her cheeks are visibly flushed, and her breaths grow more labored as Jade pushes further and further in.
birthday doggy!!!
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