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pizzaapeteer · 29 days

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Torn Facade

You are the only one who can see through Enzo’s sweet facade and see the true insufferable motherfucker that he is.

Warnings: Toxic Enzo!; NSFW, fem! reader, one use of y/n and y/l/n, degrading, throat grabbing, swearing, semi-public sex, PiV, fingering, fem orgasm, Enzo is literally just a big asshole in this. Word count: around 4k.

An: This was based off this lovely edit by @finalgirllx that sparked the idea. Also big thanks to all my muts who helped me 💛 Esp @fuckaperioddrama & @slytherinslut0. Pretty diver from here.

You knew it was him. That little fucking thief. That wasn’t a sufficient insult for how you truly felt while you stared down at the torn out pages. In a book you had been once enjoying, a treasure now snatched from your clutches, a prize that was yours and now remained in the hands of an insufferable criminal. The worst possible timing too, you were just reaching a moment of truth, a massive revelation that would explain all things just for it to be gone. Ripped literally from you.

Your eyes held a narrowed gaze on the Slytherin boy who sat only meters away, sitting nestled with his own book. Though you knew it was just for fake appearances, a technique of his to appeal to the sweet girls who populated the library. His brow cocks as he catches your agitated expression, a sinister grin flashes only noticeable by you, before he covers it with a mask of innocence to all those around. Coquettish banter surrounds the room, words spilling from his lips covered in honey, gobbled up eagerly by the many followers. The fools of girls willing landing in the sweet nectar of his venus fly trap.

Rolling your eyes at his feigned saccharine commentary, and his attempt at being witty, you storm your way over towards him. Thundering clouds growing in your wake at your rising irritation. Ignoring the dirty looks thrown your way, you push through the gaggle of girls. “You really are an asshole, you know that?” Your voice tears through his conversation, sharp as a blade, your glare deathly, shaking the ravaged book at him. “I know this is your doing.”

Dark brown eyes roll up aloofly, drinking in your exasperated energy, his lip quirk holding back a smirk. He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His tongue darts out slowly, licking his lips as his eyes stare at you with an intensity that holds warning you should be ready for. But within seconds, a pleasant smile replaces his once ornery expression, his gaze moving to the neighbouring female audience. “You’ve clearly mistaken me for someone else, sweetheart.”

The gaggle of geese like gals erupt into a fit of laughter, some rolling their eyes at your little misunderstanding. To them, Lorenzo Berkshire is nothing but a shiny knight of armour. He’s every bit the gentleman, a helping hand. It was all a facade, and you seemed to have been the only one to pick up on it. Enzo knew this. Scoffing under your breath, you slam the book down; it falls open to the shards of ripped paper, turning and making your way back to your belongings.

You catch the start of disparaging gossip erupting out amongst the gathered girls, mutters about your ridiculous and rude attitude towards sweet Enzo. Your body flares with a heated energy, the temperature sweltering beneath your skin itching, burning in frustration. The embarrassment you felt being so easily dismissed by Enzo riled your blood, causing you to tear your sweater off in annoyance. Marching down into the thick of the library, scouring the bustling shelves for another copy of the novel you were once immersed in. Ambitiously you look assuring yourself a second print must exist in the ancient library of Hogwarts.

At your stroppy departure, Enzo watches onwards, smirking at the riled up attitude you're displaying, a deep satisfaction glowing, blooming in his pit. It doesn’t last long as the once betrothed flock of desperate females disperse from around him; the chatter following. His once lively corner now stood still, a silent hum drifting through the air. Enzo drops his feet from their propped position, an anger rising at the realisation you had done this. Whether or not intentional, you had disrupted his tactical approach and ruined his chances of scoring. Exhaling an exasperated breath, he grits his teeth, frustrated by his growing temper, and hastily follows you into the depth of the shelves.

He moves amidst the shadows of the towering lumber encapsulating the rows of delicate books, his eyes stalking you with a ferocity intensity. His icy eyes stay targeted on you, burning into the back of your skull with a deadly glare, his mind boiling beyond irritation at your earlier interruption. He moves swiftly, a cascading rush of water on its quest for more thirst, seeking gratification from you. Watching your unguarded nature walk towards the reading material by muggle born authors, his mind turns with a carnal energy, watching his prey inattentively stumble confidently into the spider's web.

Jolting forwards, you wince at the sharpness of the wood digs into your chest, your hands falling to steady yourself on the edge of the bookcase. The wind is knocked out of you at the force the invader applies to your back, a hot breath snarling in your ear. “Fucking ruined my chances back there y/l/n, all for what, you to whine over how your precious book was destroyed.”

The quickness in which your heart jumps up your throat is like a bolt of lighting, striking your nerves with a sensation that makes you still. A thumping rings out in your ears, your heart rate increasing at the recognition of his voice and the anger that is laced within his tone. Any signs of your past frustration vanish, your temperature rising again, but by the close contact between you, his own heat radiating, flowing onto yours. “What did I tell you about interfering with my shit?”

It doesn’t take an intellect to realise his question is clearly rhetorical. A surge of fear and arousal consumes your body, your mixed emotions clear by the breathy whimper that escapes you. His words are laced with a deep resentment for you, as his fingers grip, digging into the sides of your waist. “I think you’re just needy for attention. Can’t help but be jealous of all my admirers, huh?”

The rising anger instantly simmers your fear by the cockiness exhaled into your ear. The peak of your annoyance grows at his arrogant blow, feeling the heat of his breath on the nape of your neck. An agitated huff leaves your lips. “You're full of shit Berkshire. I know you ripped those pages out.”

Enzo chuckles deeply, murmuring back with a sarcastic taunt, “come on now, you think an angel like me would do that.” His hands twist, spinning your body to greet him, his lips pull into a tantalizing grin, his eyes gleam with threat, “why don’t you be a good girl for’me and stop spreading bullshit.”

Tilting your head, the harshness of his hand as it clenches your chin sends a wave of heat rippling throughout you. His cold gaze studies the candor of your eyes, blown wide with lust, and no room for your desire to hide. The ambiance of the once bubbling library clouds with a spike of anticipation, the growing tension lingers between the two of you. Sliding his hand further back to hold the back of your neck, he doesn’t waste time claiming your lips.

The kiss was nothing but sweet, as the power of Enzo’s dominating force sweeps through, pressing onto your lips. His tongue pushes demanding entrances which you grant almost instantly, unable to stop yourself melting despite his roughness. Your hands fumble, moving to hold on to any part of him, already overwhelmed by the sensations he makes you feel.

His lips move, attacking your neck with heated kisses while his hands continue to press you firmly into the bookshelves, enticing small whimpers from you. A satisfied grin is felt, teeth scraping against your skin, his hands maneuvering down quickly and under your skirt. You're in no position to protest knowing how wet you already are, despite your ongoing hatred with Enzo.

He knows it too. A deep chuckle rumbling in your ear as he manages to slide his hand under your panties, sliding his fingers along your slit. “Wow, no surprises here, already soaking for me like the little slut you are.” You moan at the pressure of his digits pushing into you, his lips still covering your neck in warm wet kisses. A clear goal set in his mind to mark your body, leaving it displayed with an array of purple scatters. “Can’t even hide your growing desire for me sweetheart, been craving me haven’t you.”

Shame washes over you, finding yourself tangled in the same old web, the same old tale. Unable to help your wanted longing for him, you involuntarily release another moan, feeling his digits stretching you out. Your body erupts with hot flashes, your hands gripping tightly to his shirt, while you attempt to shoot him a glare. Not allowing yourself to utter a word and give him the satisfaction, but it does little to bruise his ego.

His eyes gleam with pure delight at seeing you weakened by him again, like a moth drawn to a flame, the corrupted path of a recidivist. “Just so needy for me, aren’t you, angel. going to let me do whatever I want, huh.” His fingers thrust faster, vigorously spurring more desperate moans from your lips. He watches as your feeble glare melts away while you greedily clench around his fingers. “Go on, tell me to stop.”

His lips curl into a sadistic grin, his eyes bore into you with a delicious intensity that has your head thudding back against the solid wood. Though mostly hidden away in the muggle born section, a small part of you remembers your surroundings as you grow weary of the lingering students around corners. But you do nothing to stop him, your mouth stuck in the repeated motion of panting breathless moans. His fingers pull, retreating out, your eyes flicking open at the sudden absence of his touch, making you cringe at your pathetic desperation for him.

He laughs a cold, condescending snigger. Icy fingers brush your cheek tapping your chin up to tilt your head back. “you love this don’t you, can’t even muster up the strength to tell me to stop me.”

Making haste, his coated fingers tug on your undies relishing in how you naturally widen your legs apart, letting them slide down. He knows how badly you're craving this, despite how he treats you. And it only fuels him more, you’re essentially helping load his gun, you're the one willing handing over the detonator to the explosive that sits within you. “You really do want me to fuck you in the library.” His voice carries out a smugness that makes you want to smother him.

Shallow breaths hit his chin, your eyes lowering cowardly as any last shards of pride wash away. The notion that if anyone came around the corner they’d see you flushed, with your undies hanging down your legs. A bile taste of shame sits on your tongue at your own desperate desire for this man. A man of many talents, a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing. How have you, of all people, fallen deep into the spiraling trap that is Lorenzo Berkshire. Not even the sweet false charms he manipulates people with, but to the true him. It made you feel sick knowing you were willingly allowing yourself to be seduced by the true version of him.

Your lack of response gives him all the answers he needs, causing him to chuckle darkly, tutting, “but I’m not going to, until you beg me. Put those lips to better use and ask me sweetly." His head tilts tauntingly at his dare to you, he already knows you'll do it but adds in an ultimatum."And maybe I won't leave you here like the pathetic mess you are."

How wrong were you to think your pride couldn’t be shrunk anymore, but it crumbled, swallowed whole in one go at his smug request. Shrivelled up to the size of a spec floating out in space, and he could sense it, a wicked grin spreading, highlighting his gorgeous face. His eyes taint you, waiting for you to give in like you always do, his fingers guide along your skin in a sort of soothing way, but there’s a sense of dominance within their hold.

At your silence to his request he groans, his patience running thin, fingers hard as iron grip your chin to hold his gaze. His next words slice through the air in a sickening hiss, “so quick to make a scene back there, wanting my attention. And now you hold it all in, sweetheart.” His eyes flash with a sense of anger at having to repeat himself, “So beg me to fuck you, slut.”

His fingers insert back up into your cunt, a desperate whine pulling from you, fingers instantly soaked in your juices, having grown even wetter from his degrading words. His anger simmers at the realization and he moves his fingers, curling them painfully slowly, another whimper escaping you. Your own body’s patience is shrinking as your mind and pussy fight with defiance. Unwilling to break yet, you utter out a quiet plead, "Berk will you fuck me.”

Enzo’s fingers still, slipping out, letting the chilled air brush against your swollen cunt his fingers tantalizingly move to rub your clit. “That wasn't very nice, angel. Do it again and say please.” He commands, his lips moving to ravage your neck, nipping a little more aggressively. He’s enjoying this as he always does, the growing need to hear your words is like a sweet nectar he's craving to have injected into his body. Your submission and desperation is what he craves, what he needs to feel fulfilled.

Your eyes narrow, teeth gritting as he continues his taunting ministrations rubbing your sensitive clit. Despite your desperation increasing to tenfold, you can’t help giving him some cheek, letting out a mocking plea. “Oh Enzo fuck, please I need you, im craving you so badly.” Adding to the effect, you release an overtop pornographic moan a little loud, suddenly feeling your bolder self reemerge.

The enjoyment of seeing Enzo’s face contorting into a grimace, a darkening scowl adorning his face. “Shut that mouth before I do it for you.”

Your eyes gleam with amusement, “You told me to beg, I did as you asked. Does that not make you happy, Sir.”

Enzo has no time or appreciation for your brattiness, “Enough.” His hand against your jaw tightens intensely, his cold brown eyes piercing into yours. With haste, he’s grabbing at your tie and stuffing the makeshift gag into your mouth, watching your eyes widen. He smirks in mild amusement at your sturdiness, before he’s pulling his hands away from your cunt and trapping your own hands into the bookcases.

Swiftly his belt is unlatched, and with a quick tug he’s freeing his throbbing cock, a sharp exhale breathed, hitting the skin of your neck. His eyes shimmer with a craze, feeling his tip sliding forwards, sinking into the warmth of your pussy he releases a deep groan. The sound of your muffled noises causes him to smirk arrogantly at shutting you up, his brows scrunching, breath ragged as he shifts his hips, rocking into you. "Fuck me...god always such a tight pussy." He murmurs breathlessly.

Your body is inflamed at the sensation, frustration rising at being gagged, though the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside you makes you unable to glare properly. His grip on your wrists burns, your skin pinching harshly as your back is slammed into the wood at his relentless pace. Biting down on the tie at the growth of your climax, he watches, sensing your closeness already.

“No no, hold that fucking shit. needy sluts like you don’t get to come yet.” His raw tone breathes into your ears as he scrapes his teeth against the shell, the strain clear as the pleasure pulses through him. He can’t get enough of the way your pussy fits too perfectly for his cock. The compelling pull of power itches through him when he watches your eyes squeeze shut, the delicious sounds of your muffling moans in protest.

Despite not acting originally like every girl falling at his feet, you always eventually did. That was a sweet satisfaction that thrilled him more than anything. “Such a fucking slut, you're so bloody predictable y/n.” He breathes harshly in your ear, kissing hard down your neck. “Just love to be degraded like this don’t you.”

His hips thrust vigorously, roaming his free hand up under your blouse, groping over the surface of your tits, pulling it free from the confines of your bra. Hands cold and large squeeze at them hastily, kneading his fingertips deep, almost painful into the tender flesh. A loud squeal escapes through the fabric of your gag, nimble fingers pinching at your sensitive buds, sending you into overdrive. His lips gloss over the shell of your ear at the pleasant noise. “Someone’s feeling sensitive. You poor thing.”

Knees weakening, your muscles wobble on the verge of collapsing at the inexorable ministrations, he pushes your body to endure. Skin burning at every touch of his fingertips, your legs struggle to keep steady, which Enzo notices. Readjusting his hold, allowing your hands freedom from his clasp, he replaces his hold on your hip sturdily. Fresh oxygen seeps into your lungs at your own removal of the gag, though it’s stolen from you instantly with the claim of Enzo’s hungry lips. A kiss that directs power and control, his tongue forcibly commanding entrance with cogency.

The warmth that envelops you from his feverish kiss and the devilish toying on your overly sensitive nipples nears you to your breaking point. Your desire, like an overflowing dam threatening to spill as you gasp out babbling in need, “Enzo please i’m going to cum -.”

He senses your seriousness, groaning at how your pussy clenches his cock tightly, suffocating him till he’s near choking on his breath at the pleasurable feeling. A guttural groan rips from him as he snares in your ear, “Fucking cum on my cock then slut.” You don’t need to be told twice, letting your orgasm pulse through you, your stomach coiling in pleasure. With a soft thud, your head rests on the hardened wood, incoherent moans falling from your lips.

Enzo watches entranced, eyes glowing with his own ecstasy at seeing you fall apart. Though he couldn’t stand you and your inability to always interfere with his plans, he took great gratification in being the one to wreck you. The one to push you over the edge in more ways than one, the satisfaction that you hated him for his counterfeit ulterior was just too delicious not too divine when you submitted. Time after time, an abiding loop you were stuck in, a broken record and your luscious moans were the melody that Enzo’s ears itched to hear repeated till the end of time.

There is little interval between your climax and trying to catch your breath, for Enzo’s hip continuously snaps into your cunt at a brutal pace. Squeezing tightly onto his arms, your eyes plead for him to ease his speed, show mercy on your overwhelmingly sensitive cunt. But it's Lorenzo fucking Berkshire, and he doesn’t do benevolence. He does the opposite in comparison, instead reaching up to clutch your throat, squeezing it just past gently, to show his dominance. The stretch of his hand fits perfectly around your delicate skin, his fingers curl around the nape of your neck, watching how your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He shoots you a sadistic grin, cooing, “you look so pretty when your put in your place.” His eyes glimmer with threat, possessively drinking you in a black widow about to eat its mate. You can’t decipher between your thrill and fear, descending further down the rabbit hole of your lust. His eyes shift, closing as he rests his forehead against yours, almost sweetly, his movements becoming jerky and erratic at his own rising climax. His breath hits you, a heat wave of desire and lust, releasing a deep groan as his hips slam forcibly deeper into you. His body shudders, filling you up completely, his tip pressing tightly into your snug walls before he paints them, his muscles convulsing.

A wave of ecstasy swells throughout your body, injected deep into your veins as he ruptures inside of you, a sense of fulfilment warming you from seeing him spill over the edge. He stills his breath ragged, eyes still closed while he allows himself a moment. His hand loosens its grip around your throat, rubbing at the skin in a sort of caresses that takes you by surprise. It doesn’t last long before he pulls back from you, a stoic expression gracing his face while reassembling himself.

Gingerly, you gaze watching him, anticipation creeping inwards for his next move. Stepping back, Enzo takes in the mess he’s made, a beautifully haunting piece on a canvas, the flushness of your cheeks and wideness of your inquisitive eyes. He helps to redress you before reaching above your head to grab a book, though he’s quick to retract the novel out of reach. Raising it above your head, when he sees the recognition in your eyes and your eagerness to have your hands on it. His lips curling into an impish grin, “Aw you’re so naive, sweetheart, thought it would be that easy huh.”

At the realisation he will not give you the book you had been seeking, opens the earlier cut of simmering anger, now bubbling threatening to spill over the pot. Eyes narrowed, brows lowering, you stare heatedly at him, crossing your arms with a huff. “What’s it going to take for you to hand it over to Berkshire.”

Enzo’s eyes lighten at the ease in which you offer defeat. A deep chuckle vibrates out of him. “What do I want? Hmm.” With slowness, he rubs his chin, enjoying driving your patience up the wall. He put some thought into his request, but he needed nothing. Anything he wanted from you he had already taken. No doubt swam in his mind that he’d ever grow tired of taking it.

“No more outbursts, y/l/n. I want you to remain quiet about my dexterous facade. If you have a problem with me, you can address me privately. You understand?” There's little humor held in his swirling dark orbs, his tone melted down to a frosty blast.

Your face contorts, processing his words. The idea you couldn’t confront him in public anymore irritated you. It’s not like you ever planned on it, he just found a way to spoil your day and wake the dragon within you. Yet you find yourself nodding, eager to get your hands back on your book and finish your story. He grins, satisfied with your agreement with a shove he’s pushing the book into your grasp.

He pats your head condensing, “That’s a good girl. Happy reading angel.” With long strides, he’s halfway down the aisle slipping out of the shadows, a disguise resurfacing into the sunlight that seems to now shine down upon him. The wolf draped in sheep's wool camouflaged back amongst the rest of the followers, who can’t tell one side from the other.

Tearing your gaze from him, a grin widens upon your face, reading over the title of the novel Enzo had originally ruined. Flicking it open to examine the beautiful textures and scriptures, your draw drops in disbelief. You knew it was too good to be true. Why did you think Enzo would be nice? A wave of déjà vu washes over you, staring down at the ripped pages in the new copy, the exact spot you wished to regain. That little shit. Masterlist 🌟

#Enzo berkshire #Lorenzo Berkshire #Enzo berkshire smut #Lorenzo Berkshire imagine #Lorenzo Berkshire smut #enzo berkshire imagine #Enzo x fem reader #slytherin boys #Enzo being him true self #Enzo being the biggest asshole #I'd still fuck him though #I had so much fun writing this ahhhhh one of my favs for sure

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scarletttries · 1 year

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NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Steven Grant (Moon Knight) + Ice cream/lollipop teasing (prompt list here)

It would be frankly embarrassing how easily, and quickly, you could wind Steven up with the slightest bit of effort. A fact that made Steven mortified, and excited you greatly.

You'd been hoping to have Steven to yourself for the weekend, only for your plans to get rudely interrupted by Donna calling him in to cover for someone at the museum before you'd really had the chance to get your hands on him at all. Naturally Steven apologised profusely despite it not being his fault, and suggested you come visit him at the end of the day, promising you a private tour of the museum in exchange for your patience. You happily agreed to the plan, but only because you'd heard Steven mention a few behind-the-scenes places in the museum you couldn't resist the opportunity to drag him to.

The day seemed to drag for Steven at his little counter; making inventory lists, punching endless numbers into his till, and doing a double-take every time someone walked in, just in case it was you, trying to hide the disappointment on his face when he realised he still had to wait a little longer until he saw you again. It had only been a few months since he first mustered up all his nerve to ask you out for coffee, and now he almost didn't feel himself when he wasn't around you. Like somehow your beauty and exuberance and kindness reflected onto him until he was sure he was the best, and happiest, version of himself there had ever been. He found himself picturing your pretty smile first thing in the morning, still completely in disbelief that he was the person that got to wake up beside you and see it.

"Earth to Steven." You said again, starting to worry as you waved a hand in front of his face, watching his eyes slowly focus on reality again as he jumped in surprise.

"Sorry love! I was completely out of it then, I must have looked like a right plonker. If it helps, I was thinking about you." He offered bashfully, watching the mischievous smile forming on your face as you scanned the offerings around his station,

"Oh really, what was I wearing?" You fought back a laugh at the crimson colour that immediately flooded into his cheeks at the question, a thread of stutters and stumbled words all you got in response. "What are these Steven?" You cut off his attempt to elaborate by picking up a round red lollipop held in a spiraling display at the far end of the ledge.

"They're just lollipops that are supposed to make your tongue change colour, I don't know what they have to do with history or science, but people seem to love 'em." If you didn't have your back to him he would've seen the glimmer of an idea in your eyes before you spun and asked with an innocent grin, "Can I buy one please? For our tour."

"Of course, my treat love." He smiled softly as he watched you unwrap the plastic coating, face falling to accomodate a deep gulp as he watched you flick your tongue over the glistening red orb, before slowly sliding it between your lips. He could feel his pulse quicken as you let out a soft hum at its taste, eyes trailing over to his as you commented, tone needlessly sultry,

"Mm, strawberry." He ignored the ache building beside his hand as he quickly fumbled in his pocket to pull out a few coins, glad that it was his final transaction of the day as his blood seemed to be leaving his brain in favour of more fun areas. Taking your outstretched hand and leading you towards his favourite exhibits, he took a deep breath trying to steady himself from your effects on him. But you wouldn't let that happen.

As you moved between glass cases, it wasn't hard to tell your little ploy was having the intended effect. Steven would find himself tripping over his words, and his feet, trying to keep his mind on anything but the sugary draw of your lips. While you looked intently at each artifact he explained, he could only bring himself to stare at your mouth, watching your tongue circle the lollipop, lapping up the sticky droplets forming before running over the tip, making Steven shift awkwardly from one foot to the other, desperately trying to push the images of how good he knew it felt to have you sucking him that way.

You were surprised with how long he tried to keep his composure, clearly embarrassed by his obvious physical reaction, squirming to stand with his legs obscuring his crotch from your view, tugging at his collar as pink seemed to flush his skin as it stained your lips. It wasn't until you asked him if your tongue was "all pink now" before sticking it out at him with a devilish glint in your eyes that a little voice in his head made him realise he never stood a chance.

"Do you want to see where, uh, we put the new, what's the word... museum stuff?" He spluttered out, already gripping your hand a little more firmly as he picked up the pace towards the stockroom he knew wouldn't get checked this time of night.

"Lead the way handsome." You said happily, keeping your tone just innocent enough that you wouldn't completely give yourself away. Steven practically ripped open the door as he barged inside, panting from the short walk and the long-building frustration throbbing inside him. "Are you okay Steven?" You asked, saccharine sweet as you took the lollipop between your lips, exaggerating the sucking action with your cheeks.

"Um, yes. But also no." He mumbled, volume rising as he stepped towards you, framing your body against the door as he checked the lock. He planted one hand beside your head as the other slowly wrapped around the paper stick emerging from your lips, fingers gently pulling until the sweet escaped your lips with an audible pop. He moved deliberately slowly, your own heart racing at the hungry look in his eyes, slightly disheveled by an afternoon of your relentless teasing. Tentatively he pressed his lips to yours, eagerness rushing through him as the taste of strawberries flooded his mouth, his tongue plunging forward to follow its sweetness. You fought back a smile at his obvious keenness, frantically capturing your lips and exploring your mouth until he needed to pull away for breath, chest heaving with the overwhelming excitement. The hunger in his eyes hadn't dissipated at all, desperate desire burning inside him, hindering his ability to ask for what he so clearly wanted. You decided you'd been cruel enough, bringing your hands to his thighs as you slowly lowered to your knees.

"Is there something other than a lollipop you want me to put in my mouth Steven?" It took every ounce of his self-control not to lose it right there, your wide eyes staring up at him as your fingers toyed with buttons of his slacks, his silent but awestruck nod giving you the permission you needed. You could feel him straining against the fabric as you slid down his zip, peeling his trousers and boxers down his thighs until his aching manhood sprang free, already leaking its own sweet, sticky mess at his uncontrollable thoughts of you. Steven looked apologetic at his state despite your satisfied smile as you wrapped your hand around him, mumbling as you started to gentle rub away the throbbing tension,

"I'm sorry love, you're just so beautiful and with that lollipop, I couldn't stop thinking about, uh, things and - Oh!" His apology halted as brought your rosy red tongue to his glistening tip, lapping at it just like in his thoughts, humming happily as his eyes fluttered shut,

"Don't apologise Steven, you're way better than Strawberry." As if to prove your point you took him deeply between your lips, moaning as his hips bucked at the contact, slamming himself down your throat. The empty storage space was filled with whimpers and panting as he rubbed against the inside of your cheeks, feeling the soft warmth he'd been picturing all afternoon, eyes fixed to your bobbing head, watching you like the miraculous entity that you are, trying to capture the moment in all its glory in his mind, in case he never felt something so perfect again. The way your eyes looked up at him adoringly, the wet glide of your tongue as you pulled away, only to hum in satisfaction as you brought him back down your throat again, it was too much. Better than his imagination by a long stretch. His daydreams could never do your soft, warm touch justice. He could feel the pressure building inside him as he relished every sensation your movements created.

"Love, I'm gonna - um, you should -" He tried to warn you, not sure of the proper wording and fumbling over himself as you seemed to apply more pressure, picking up the pace as he crossed his threshold, a deep groan ripping free of his throat as his hips began to stutter, his release filling your cheeks as you drew every last drop of pleasure from him.

Steven watched in wide-eyed affection as you swallowed his seed like he was just another sweet treat, before sticking out your pink tongue while gently helping him back into his trousers. You pointed at the now much smaller sweet, still clutched in the hand that wasn't propped against the door, possibly the only thing keeping him from collapsing entirely.

"Can I have that back now?" The cheeky glint in your beaming smile filled Steven with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as he shook his head, putting the lollipop in his own mouth instead, looking a little panicked as he spoke,

"Absolutely not. You're banned from buying lollipops at my gift shop." He smiled at the incredulous laugh that burst from your lips as he helped you off your knees, sure you were going to be the death of him, but unable to think of a better way to go.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #steven grant imagine #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagines #steven grant #moon knight imagine #moon knight headcanon #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagines #steven grant requests #moon knight requests

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rachetmath · 1 year

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Ruby: Hey Jaune where are you going?

Jaune: Well Ruby I was asking around town to see if I could find a teacher.

Ruby: A teacher? Why were you looking for a teacher?

Jaune: To train with.

Ruby: Jaune come on. You're fine. You don't need a teacher.

Jaune: Okay but I need a break.

Ruby: From what?

Jaune: Woman after the emotional rollercoaster we had. I need to figure some stuff out.

Ruby: You can figure it out with us.

Jaune: No.

Ruby: Why not?!

Jaune: This is something I need to do alone. I can't be worrying about you and have you cuddling me all the time.

Ruby: We need you though.

Jaune: You have your team and my team. Which I’m not apart of no more. What do you need me for?

Ruby: Healing.

Jaune: Ruby, for how long we've spent together, no one has gotten injured that badly.

Ruby: Nora-

Jaune: She did that to herself. Plus I am now the odd man out. What need is there for me other than being in danger?

Ruby: You can be with Qrow.

Jaune: No. He has Robyn and Harriet.

Ruby: Come on.

Jaune: Ruby I need this. I need a training arc to get back on my feet. I need to figure out what I'm going after all this. Especially, after Alyx despite everything gave a second chance. I’m not wasting this.

Ruby: What are you talking about?

Jaune: Ruby, I couldn't save Pyrrha. I couldn't save Penny. Oscar. Alyx.

Ruby: Wait, you did save Oscar.

Jaune: Not before Emerald.

Ruby: oh.

Jaune: I’m just saying, I want to live to see my family again. So I need to get more experience and training to become stronger because obviously the roles I have are not a good fit for me.

Ruby; Hm. Good point. Good point.

Afterwards

Weiss: You let him go!!?

Ruby: Absolutely.

Yang: Why?

Ruby: I mean I understand. I thought I took L’s but him, nope.

Blake: But Ruby-

Ruby; Blake. He cheated Beacon. He almost dies multiple times. Every girl he meets either dies or hoes him in some way. And he was trapped on an island for years. Okay? He’s an uncle to a lesbian couple's son. He has a family who he may not be on good terms with. Also, in theory, didn’t Raven burn down the village him and his family used to go to? Probably the last good memory he had of his family.

Qrow: Oh shit she did.

Ruby: Oh my god. How was Raven not on his kill list along with Cinder?

Qrow: Yeah, we might not need to avoid telling him.

Ruby: All I’m saying is the guy has been through hell by himself. I say let him breathe.

Weiss: Are you serious?!

Ruby: Bitch don’t be mad at me! You only started liking him cause you were simp for the Rusted Knight. Hell, didn’t he save you like three times either from embarrassment or death? And didn’t you start off as immature as you thought he was?

Weiss:: Um.

Ruby: Exactly.

Nora: Ruby, that’s not fair. He’s our teammate. And our leader.

Ruby: Oh, so now you care?

Nora: What did you say?

Ruby: I mean Sakura-

Nora: Nora.

Ruby: No, Sakura, you can’t keep choosing when you want to start being a good teammate.

Nora: Excuse me. I’ll have you know-

Ruby: Don’t you be rude to him sometimes.

Nora: Um.

Ruby: You're also never there. In fact, you and Ren majority of the time are useless.

Ren: What?!

Ruby: Like you're never around when he needs you. And no, that portal thing doesn’t count. That was our fault. However, you two always prioritize each other but never Jaune. In fact, you two halfway almost left us to fight a giant grimm. Let Jaune face a maiden by himself, knowing his skill level is average.

Nora: Ruby that was months ago. Get over it.

Ruby: Alright, so where were you in the Cardin situation? Where were you during the Pyrrha situation? In fact how come you two were the first out when Neo showed up.?

Nora: Um.

Yang: In fact, isn’t Jaune kind of the one who saved your relationship by talking with Ren?

Ren: Um.

Ruby: Exactly. Like I said Sakura, you can’t choose to be a good team member when you want to be. So be a good girl and stay with your Sasuke.

Nora: Little bi- *tries to strike Ruby*

Ren: *hold Nora back* No Nora, calm down!

Nora: No way I’m taking that disrespect!

Ruby: Plus, he had a point. We barely get hurt. We rarely do defense. And the majority of our battles rarely require strategy. I hate to say it but strength is everything. And Jaune has the potential to outweigh us in every category.

Ren: Ruby, he is a healer.

Ruby: And you’re supposed to be a ninja and a skilled fighter but you're just as useless as your girlfriend.

Ren: … …

Oscar: Well Aura Amplification is more than just healing it increases other people's abilities.

Ruby: Oh really. Okay, Oscar, I have one question. Who here now needs Jaune to help amplify their abilities?

Oscar: Um.

Ruby: Mind you Ren is able to cover multiple people without Jaune’s help now. And Weiss barely needs healing either. So who?

Oscar: … Nobody.

Ruby: NOBODY. So let Jaune use his semblance for him. He needs it more than us. Maybe it has multiple purposes that we don’t know about.

Yang: But Ruby he’s not built like us.

Ruby: *stares at Yang*

Yang: What?

Ruby: I-I should- You are- Oo I… Keep it together Ruby. No need to bury this bitch along with your mom. She still raised you.

Yang: What? What did I say wrong?

Ruby: Yang, if Jaune stopped giving Fs about everything, he basically be a monster.

Yang: Wait rea-Really?

Ruby: Yes he goes there sometimes. He did it Heaven not giving a f about the situation and went for Cinder. In Argus, he didn’t think twice about stealing an airship and was ready to put his hands on Oscar.

Yang: Until you stopped him.

Ruby: You must not have seen his eyes he was ready to fight me too.

Yang: Oh.

Ren: And in Atlas he was ready to risk our lives to save Oscar.

Yang: True.

Blake: And again he look me in the eyes after we tried to stop him from killing the Curious Cat. Honey, he is close to being up there.

Yang: He’s got that Beowolf in him.

Ruby: Damn straight. Look. Let’s just give Jaune some space. Let him readjust back to Remnant. And let him find his strength. Alright? Now if you excuse me I need to find someone.

Yang: Who?

Ruby: Raven. She was the last one to see my mom so I need to hear her side of the story of what happened. It may end this stupid family feud we got. Later.*leaves*

Oscar: Hey where’s Emerald?

Somewhere

Jaune: I recall wanting to be alone. Why are you here?

Emerald: Emotional Support.

Jaune: I don’t need emotional support.

Emerald: Not you. Me.

Jaune: And what makes you think I am available, capable or interested in helping you?

Emerald: First, you have zero reasons to trust me. Two, I need screen time now because I’m a major player. So being a side character in your story can work. Three, I’m not like Pyrrha or Weiss, I can like you for my own reasons other than you being the “Rusted Knight” or your potential. And I might not be as linit with you as the others. I can show you, tough love.

Jaune: And what do I gain from this?

Emerald: My actual loyalty.

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake bellodona #yang xiao long #jaune arc #lie ren #nora valkyrie #penny polendina #pyrrha nikos #oscar pines #raven branwen #qrow branwen #emerald sustrai #rwby topaz

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roseapov · 7 months

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Protect

Izek & Ellen x GN!Reader

Tw: obsession, yandere, possessiveness, implied blackmailing, implied killing

Povtober 2023, Day 15 [Masterlist]

They always acted weird towards you.

As a younger sister of Freya Van Furiana, you had to tag along with her, during her many visits to the Omerta Duchy. As your parents wanted her to seduce the future Duke.

As she was a close friend of Ellenia Van Omerta, you tagging along with her, made you two acquainted. The same goes for the future Duke, Izek Van Omerta, the one your sister had to seduce.

Your mother was always very insistent on sending you along with your sister to their household. Yours not so keen eyes never saw the way she tended to tremble, when you didn't want to go there, throwing a fit.

Perhaps sensing something wrong?

These two kids immediately took an interest in you, being very friendly and kind.

You felt overwhelmed with their affections and attention, as they were anything but that to everyone else. You tried to avoid them to the best of your abilities.

What you never knew was the fact that when you were avoiding them, they were lashing out of your older sister. What did you told her?! What made her avoid us? Answer us Freya!

Basically your every discomfort is Freya's fault in their eyes, that quickly became her biggest fear. She spends the most time with you, it doesn't matter that she is your sister, she's taking you away from them.

And they can't have that.

They both are aware of the cruel nature of the world, yet you are so pure and untainted by it. They want to- no.

They need to protect you from the sorrows and pain, that will await you, if they leave you alone. If someone were to taint you-

Especially fond of this mindset is Izek. He is your knight after all, sworn to protect you till his dying breath.

Ellen tries her best to distract you from the rude nobles kids, having grand tea parties with her in the garden and with Freya.

The feeling of unsettling around them never disappeared.

Even when you all got older and yet, you decided that it was only a part of your imagination. Children really does have a huge imagination, don't they?

Your whole life they were nothing but kind to you, they would never hurt you.

All the moments when you were throwing fits about coming to them leaving you extremely embarrassed, they loved it, wanting to make up for them, for all this time spent together.

It is good to be unaware, right? It's in your best interest to make it last that way. They will protect you from the world, whatever it takes.

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miko-magica · 1 year

Text

I just want your love.

♡ - Synopsis : In which teen Diluc falls inlove yet he isn't sure how to express his feelings, making it so that it comes off as if he dislikes you. // Takes place before Crepus' passing.

♡ - Note : Inspired by my 3 am thoughts !! (no joke it's literally three am lord help me)| This was originally supposed to be fluffy and cute like my other fics but I still don't have Diluc and I'm almost ar 60 so :(

"Hey! How'd your mission go? I heard you had to do it with Diluc" Kaeya said while putting an arm around your shoulder " Yes.. he was a bit rude. Maybe he just doesn't like me, I've heard he wasn't fond of new people.. but we've known eachother even as children." You say with a chuckle trying not to sound offensive towards Kaeya.

"Huh, Rude you say? I mean he's occasionally harsh here and there but rude? Care to give an example?" He said removing his arm around your neck while tilting his head and crossing his arms "Well, for starters.. he started saying quite rude things to me earlier such as; You're gross, You're insufferable or even swearing at me sometimes. I feel like I already have small to no chances of even being friends with him ever again, he's changed ever since I came back from Liyue. "

Kaeya let out a chuckle "Oh, Diluc. He just isn't good with these things but... Trust me he still likes you." He continued as he pats your shoulder then walks away "I'm pretty sure the last time he talked about you was him saying he wanted to be with you everyday, I don't think he hates you one bit .. you're both so dense." He whispered— barely audible, you couldn't hear him properly yet you managed to make out the words " hates and dense "

—

"You're so bad at making a move aren't you, Diluc." Kaeya asks with a sarcastic tone, Diluc turns his head towards his brother "...What do you mean?" He asks with a confused face even though he seems to know what Kaeya meant "Hm really? Your 'insufferable' knight? No?"

His face flushes,almost as if his face replicated his hair but his eyes were also filled with panic " Ah.. so what— They ARE insufferable—! I mean they almost got hurt and they still went for the kill how stupid! I.." he didn't finish his sentence and sighed heavily

"Already having fights? I thought we agreed in 'no fighting' when you became a knight." Crepus' voice scared the two boys who quickly faced their father. "Oh if it was a fight then I would've told you father—" Diluc starts " —But he's inlove" Kaeya cuts Diluc off with an energetic tone

With a quite shocked face, Crepus chuckles to himself "..Then you really shouldn't be saying those things if you're inlove with them. You might push them away Diluc." He sighs " No— I don't like them! Father..." Diluc retorts with his face heating up ever more slightly

"Young master Diluc? Your friend is here! They're looking for you. It seems quite important." Adelinde interrupts their conversation while Diluc nodded and excused himself

"Ah.." if it wasn't the person he was all flustered over, the person who he sees in the midst of the crowd— despite the commotion; your voice is the only thing he hears. " I brought you some of my cooking, I wanted to apologize for troubling you earlier in our mission. I know it was a foolish move, thank you for saving me, Diluc." You say with a gentle smile which he seemed to despise— but in his eyes you were more than beautiful, his brows furrowed even more trying to conceal his redness and embarrassment.

"..is something wrong? If you don't want it maybe Kaeya and Master Crepus would enjoy it? Apologies I wasn't really sure if this is still your favorite food, I remember you saying it was your favorite food a long time ago—" he takes the meal from your hands and opens his mouth to talk but no words escaped his mouth, he could barely utter a word Infront of you when your eyes shone perfectly with the sunset. With no further warning he nodded slightly and shut the door in your face.

He leaned on the door, the food against his chest with his face redder than his hair and his heart beating out of his chest. Adelinde was about to tell him how rude it was to shut the door in your face but Crepus and Kaeya stopped her, the three watched the redhead unable to muster up a word enough to thank you for your gift but he also felt bad for making you feel as if you were a burden and that an apology was in order, he opens the door quickly again only to see that you've wandered off.

A week passed and Diluc never really approached you, he avoided all contact with you. Sometimes you'd get a good look at him and feel like he doesn't really hate you, that he somehow has at the very least affection or liking for you, but that was nothing but delusion in your eyes, he avoided every single interaction. He acted as if he hated you, your guts, you as a person and no matter how much Kaeya reassures you that you're liked by Diluc in some way, he still makes you feel as if he's disgusted by the thought of you.

Your last mission with him came, Kaeya and Diluc became your partner for your mission. It was clearing out a camp of abyss mages. They've gathered up in one place and it has become a very huge inconvenience to people. You came to the scene and with ease, they were dealt with. Or was it? There was barely anything audible to you, you felt as if the man you have always adored saw you as a disgusting person— hell, he probably sees you as those type of people who throw themselves at him for his money and fame.

Going back to the headquarters, Kaeya had a lot to say, he tried to make you two talk. He tried to make Diluc muster up any bit of compliment just to keep your eyes bright like before. In truth, he wasn't the only one that noticed your eyes had gone dark. Everyone did, especially Diluc, he thought you hated being with him after how he's treated you these past few weeks. It was a never ending cycle, he makes a mistake, you try to make up for it, he doesn't tell you how he feels, you get distant, he wins you over and you go back to being yourself once more and then it repeats.

A day has passed since your mission, your things were packed, you visited the winery to bid goodbye to the man who treated you as his own child and the man who supported you with every small dumb decision you have ever made— and the most important man you have ever met, the man that changed your life, your view of love and affection.

Unfortunately, Diluc stood quiet during your goodbyes, he was behind Crepus and Kaeya who gave you a hug and bid Goodbye. He stood in the shadows unsure of what to do next, he stood unknowingly shedding a tear.

"Diluc, can we talk? Just us." You say as he nods and steps out of the winery with you, he stares at you with his ever so dead eyes.

"I have longed to tell you how I felt, how I always felt the need to impress you and how I—.. I want to tell you that you are the only reason I came back to Mondstat, the only reason I became a knight. Diluc I adore you, If I may—; love, even. Diluc I love you, I have for a very long time. All I ever wanted was to tell you yet you manage to somehow make me aware of your dislike of affection. I understand, I really do. It won't stop me from how I feel for you, but Diluc Ragvindr.. there is no point of me being here if it wasn't with you, if It wasn't by your side making you feel happy— if it wasn't with you, there is nothing in this world- in the whole of Teyvat that matters. So in other words, this is goodbye. Diluc, I hope you live a happy life and love someone you truly think is worthy and may they treat you how you deserve to be treated and may they love you as much as I do."

You waited for a brief moment for a response, you hoped.. atleast a bit, atleast a little bit that he would say he felt the same way yet he stood quiet. You chuckled to yourself as you felt your eyes welling up. "Goodbye, Diluc." You walk away with your things and your tears running down your face while Diluc stood in regret, his mouth could not conjure up anything, his body was frozen, his tongue was tied. His words were trapped in his throat and there was no way to get them out. He watched you walk away— you were too far, too far away from his reach. He felt his eyes water, and soon his tears were unstoppable, they felt like fire in his eyes. He wanted to chase after you, he wanted to move his body yet he was frozen in place, he was gone— you, were gone. And it was solely because of him, him not being able to express his love, his emotions.

To this day, he wishes that you would walk into his tavern, that you would come back and say you missed him. That you still loved him, but who was he to ask for that when he had long received your wedding invitation. Who was he to long for the love of someone he hurt and who was he to wish for you to ruin your perfect life with your partner now. He can only wish for you to live a happy life, much like what you wished for him though he knows deep down that no one could ever compare to you.

#diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #diluc angst #master diluc #angst no comfort #no happy ending #diluc x reader #gn reader #diluc sad #married #unsaid feelings #crepus #genshin crepus #diluc and kaeya #genshin kaeya #kaeya #kaeya alberich #ragbros

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paperstarwriters · 1 year

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Muriel & Physical affection HCs

I always feel so weirdly torn about Muriel & physical affection because on the one hand I do realize that he's kinda uncomfy with it in the first half and he's only better with it in the later half because he's grown familiar with MC, but like...

my gut instinct (aka, my need to project my traits onto him) is telling me that Muriel (like myself) is a little touch averse with strangers/people he doesn't know well, and even his friends since he doesn't know whether or not they're comfy with that and is too afraid/awkward to ask, but when given the chance/opportunity to he really really really likes cuddling, and will just absolutely creep up behind you to hug you while you do something. When he works on his carvings, he likes to either have you lean against his back while he works or have you sit in his lap (Only if he's painting/varnishing/whatever tho, he's not going to get wood shavings on you lol) Sometimes he even likes lying down in your lap if you're reading something.

also, also surprise kisses are most certainly a thing between the both of you lol (I know I've already written about this lol but I can't help it I love this idea too much) He just loves to shock you with a little kiss somewhere sensitive on your skin just to see you react with embarrassment or melt in his hands for once. Of course, he's no safer from kisses but he still takes great delight and joy in seeing you get all squirmy for once.

also, Imagine the chaos of the both of you bathing/swimming in a lake or something. With less clothes, Muriel has more access to your skin and will definitely leave some kisses in places he wouldn't have been able to reach before. And even if he practically freezes at the contact, rest assured that he loves you taking advantage of the same thing just as much as you do.

Also I imagine that he has a sort of love-hate relationship with PDA. On the one hand he hates the attention it draws to himself from onlookers. It makes him kinda spiral as he worries about what other people are thinking at seeing him with you, do they think that it's an imbalanced match or something? Do they think he's out of your league? Do they find PDA annoying and see his actions as uncomfortable or gross or rude or annoying??

On the other hand he cannot deny how giddy it makes him feel when he laces his hand with yours and gets to stroll through the streets quietly showing off to everyone else that you are his and he is yours. It's even better and even worse with a kiss. Especially since, if you give him a quick peck on his lips he'll probably want more, but will feel too uncomfortable in the crowds for another kiss, let alone asking for one.

and yet despite that he feels almost entirely fine with feeding you and being fed by you when you buy food in the market. Of course "almost entirely fine" might be a little inaccurate, he's not fine, but only in the best ways possible. He doesn't pass up the chance to lick up crumbs or juice or sauce from your fingertips or down your palm and wrist if it had gotten that far, and he gets very, very giddy when you do the same for him. He'll blush bright red, but it won't impede on him eating more of what you feed him. The only time it'd probably come to a halt is if he catches someone staring at the both of you. You'll be able to thank that random stranger for having to stop your little meal early.

Oh also, also Muriel definitely reads fiction stories. I just can't help but grin at the idea of him reading about some sort of knight in shining armor who gets to kiss their love interest on the back of their hand or along their knuckles as a sign of loyalty and respect, and Muriel just, with almost no explanation at all does the same for you.

Idk just Muriel & physical cuddly affection

#the arcana #muriel #muriel x reader #muriel x reader headcannons #muriel headcannons #muriel x mc #muriel x apprentice #muriel of the kokhuri #muriel the hermit #muriel the arcana #the arcana muriel #oh #also concerning Asra & Muriel #Muriel probably did give a ton of hugs to Asra before #but as Asra grew close with MC & spent so much time away from them #Muriel probably grew distant as well feeling uncertain as to what he should do #like he doesn't know if it's acceptable to want to hug Asra when it seems like the only one Asra wanted to hug was MC #He doesn't know whether or not Asra would be okay with it or if they'd find Muriel being weird/awkward about it #Obviously Asra wouldn't have minded #but Muriel didn't know that at the time so 🥲#Asra probably didn't notice either since they were so wrapped up in MC #x reader #reader insert

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separatist-apologist · 6 months

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A Lost Princess Of Sunlight

Summary: Lady Elain has spent her life in the idyllic countryside wanting for nothing, so when her adopted sister Vassa begs her to accompany her to court, how can Elain say no? The roguish prince is in need of a wife and Elain, certain she'd make a terrible princess, has no interest in such theatrics.

But something about the palace brings back memories lost to the sea ten years before. Memories Elain had been certain she'd never get back…memories that speak of a colder place, and sisters long forgotten. Amid the tumultuous politics and the looming war, Elain finds herself embroiled in a mystery to find out who she really is.

And where she really comes from.

Note: HAPPY HOLIDAYS @writtenonreceipts! I hope you like this- I tried so hard to give it TOG vibes AND to incorporate nessian and feysand because you said you love them (and I in turn love you).

@acotargiftexchange

Major thanks to @velidewrites and @wilde-knight for the moodboard + beta-ing this fic when I was laying face down in a puddle of my own tears.

Read On AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Elain was strangely embarrassed as she dressed the next morning, choosing her gown carefully. More maids than she’d ever seen in her life flitted in and out, presenting her with jewelry, pinning her hair, and insisting they dress her themselves. Vassa had popped in, lips stained cherry red, to ensure Elain this was not Lucien’s doing but merely the expectation of all ladies, but Elain didn’t believe her friend.

For one, the laughter in her eyes seemed to suggest an amount of fussing was the result of the smitten prince. Elain needed to be firm, to tell him she was not interested in being his wife, a princess, or even dallying while he found someone more suitable. It was just, the thought of having to look the handsome Lucien in the eye and tell him she wasn’t interested made Elain’s guts twist in knots.

By the time she was fully dressed in a pretty dress of rosy pink, she’d managed to convince herself that the prince would tire of her once he realized how uncultured and unworldly she was. Someone would let it slip that she wasn’t of noble birth at all, that she was merely a fraud in satin and silk, and he’d turn his attention elsewhere.

And one day, when Elain had grandchildren, she could tell them how the King had once courted her for a time. It was a little flattering given Elain had taken the time to survey the other ladies surrounding her and so many of them were earth shatteringly beautiful and Lucien seemed entranced only by her. It was as if he could see no one else, even when they were standing right in front of him.

Today was her appointment with the king. All the important families met with him upon arrival but Elain and Vassa didn’t rank high enough for that, and so they’d go today with everyone else who had been invited because it would have been rude to exclude them. Vassa was a vision in green, her bouncy curls pulled apart in individual spirals like a pretty halo around an even prettier face.

“Ready?” Vassa whispered, her excitement palpable. Elain could not see why—Vassa was about to become a scandal and if she had to guess, the King wouldn’t appreciate it. They hadn’t spoken about it since Vassa had proposed the whole scheme, though they’d also only just arrived, too. There was simply no time for Jurian to propose. If he even wanted to. Elain had seen how Vassa spoke to him and though her friend swore he liked it…did he really? She supposed she’d find out.

Another day, another time. The Lord was waiting for them, surveying the pair with steely blue eyes. Not finding them wanting, he merely gestured for them to follow behind. Elain fell into step with Vassa, nervous about meeting the King. In the back of her mind, something pulled like a stitch unraveling. Not a memory—not quite. But the sensation she had made this exact walk before when she was certain she hadn’t.

The feeling was like a wave, building and building with every step. No, she told herself, looking at strangely familiar paintings on walls she had never seen. No, she had never been here. And yet…there was the portrait of the dog. There was the lion shaped curtain tieback, the sentry half hidden behind a bust of some long dead queen. The doors, the gold leaf—Elain knew it before she saw it and couldn’t explain how or why.

Only that she did and she shouldn’t. Even the smells felt familiar to her, so visceral that Elain felt like she was merely trailing a ghost—a childs memory, tripping over skirts too big while trying to keep up with the adult in front of her. She could see the hazy outline, the double doors that opened and the man she’d been staring at through portraits her entire life.

Reality crashed against memory, blending the two together. Dream Elain and real Elain merged, watching through four sets of eyes with suspicion and confusion. She curtseyed, certain she had done this all before.

“You made it,” Helion began, leaning forward in his sun shaped throne to look at Koschington. “I hope the journey treated you well.”

Koschington waved his hand. “It’s the heat that offends me.”

Helion chuckled and his beautiful wife grinned, the tension in the room diffused. Why, Elain wondered, had it been there to begin with? Had she imagined it? Perhaps the heat was getting to her, too, because Elain felt dizzy and lightheaded. So lost in her own thoughts, Elain didn’t realize the Queen had asked her a question until Vassa elbowed her roughly in the ribs.

“What?” she hissed only to realize the same eyes set in Lucien’s face were gazing at her with amusement.

“I asked how you are enjoying the capital. It’s your first time, is it not?”

No, a voice in her mind screamed. But she couldn’t prove that other than a lingering feeling they’d done this all before. Embarrassed and frustrated, Elain nodded her head. “It’s lovely. Everyone has been so welcoming.”

The King’s eyes bore a keen gleam, a politician’s smile stretched over his face. “Wonderful. If you have need of anything, please let us know.”

What an absurd offer. It was empty and they all knew it, though Elain nodded again, grateful when the conversation shifted back to the Lord, and then to Vassa and her prospects for marriage. The Queen offered a shortlist of eligible men which Koschington agreed to take gratefully while Vassa beamed, the model lady. No one offered the same for her which strangely relieved her. She’d expected it to hurt her feelings but it didn’t.

Vassa pulled her aside the moment they were free of both Koschingtons watchful gaze and the royals, who were likely receiving some new family. “If you want my list—”

“I think I’ve been here before,” Elain began, unconcerned about marriage. “I have this memory of this specific hall.”

“Are you sure? Father said…” Vassa chewed her bottom lip, pert nose scrunched as she looked at Elain. “He never did say what village, exactly, you came from.”

“I just want to know if I’m succumbing to madness,” Elain pressed, unsure if it was even possible to know. Vassa’s eyes lit up.

“I know who we could ask. She knows everything about Rhodes.”

“Would she help us, though?” Elain asked as Vassa grabbed her hand and began tugging her down a hallway.

“Arina? Definitely. As long as she doesn’t suspect your request to be treasonous, I suppose. But it’s not—it’s just background information. And maybe we could find some of your family if we can figure out where you came from.”

Elain had to swallow the hope rising through her. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for what had been done for her—she could have been left to rot, to figure things out on her own. Lord Koschington had taken her in and treated her well. It wasn’t a real family the way she sometimes dreamed about. People who knew her, who loved her simply for being.

Vassa came close and Elain was about to lose her to a man.

It didn’t take long to learn who Arina was. Beautiful and blonde, with sunkissed, soft brown skin and eyes so green they looked like a mossy forest floor, Arina was a scholar in Helion’s court. The woman oversaw secrets of the kingdom, documenting them in some official capacity and maintaining records of things.

“Tell me everything,” Arina offered, hands folded against a neat, wooden desk with a pretty, near breathless lilt.

So Elain did. What she remembered, anyway, which was more than she typically let on about. She remembered ocean water more than anything else—she was certain at some point, she had been by the water or in it. Elains next true memory was the estate in the countryside, Vassa sitting beside her bed with a bowl of warm water and a washcloth pressed to Elain’s head.

Don’t try to move. You’ve been through a great ordeal.

“When did you say this was?” Arina pressed, biting her bottom lip.

“Ten years ago?” Elain asked, voice rather small.

Arina glanced down at her hands. “I could…review the records, I suppose. See if there were any villages invaded by Ellesmere that are mostly lost to memory. The war was all but over a decade ago…save, of course, for the invasion of their capital city.”

Elain exhaled a sigh. “You’ll look, though?”

Smiling, Arina nodded her head. “What could it hurt?”

“Thank you,” Elain breathed, relief flooding through her. This was the best lead she’d had ever. Surely there was something—a little note left stuck in another piece of paper, a letter sent off by some high ranking official that was half lost to memory. She had faith they’d get at least a name, which was enough. Even if no one was alive, there would be records of birth, graves, and places people lived. She’d have a surname that belonged to her, and even if Elain could never be whatever person she might have been had the war not touched her home, she’d at least be able to close that door behind her.

With the path behind her suddenly in view, Elain felt a little more optimistic about the future. About the prince and her promise to dine with him that day and their turn around the garden. Elain thought she might confide all this in Lucien, certain he would find it offputting. Elain was likely no one special—the kind of woman he wouldn’t look at twice if he’d ever met her out in the world. Better for him to know that now rather than later so there was no disappointment.

That was for the best, Elain thought.

So why did she feel so disappointed?

Striding through the misty world that comprised her home, Feyre didn’t dare look at anyone—and they didn’t dare to look at her either. Eyes cast downward out of respect, as if they wouldn’t report her movements to her father, anyway. Not that he cared. He cared for so little ever since their mother and Elain had died and Feyre’s movements were at the very bottom of the list of things he still managed to care for.

Nesta was taking more control of things as they got older, battling for control with the Nolans. How long, Feyre wondered, before the patriarch realized she was serious about marrying a foreign prince? Feyre heard them talk—they never paid attention to her, though sometimes Feyre hid in the rafters eavesdropping, too—and for the moment, it was all regarded as a young woman’s amusement. Eris and Rhysand were young, were powerful, were the kind of men a young woman ought to want.

But inevitably she’d settle for a northern born man, and they all believed that man would be Graysen. The eldest son of the wealthiest, most influential family in their kingdom, Graysen was just a given among the nobility when they thought of their figure king.

He and Nesta loathed each other. Marriages were made on less, and hatred was still a passionate emotion. Nesta refused to let Feyre teach her to use a knife—too bad. Feyre thought it would be amusing for the new King to die in his sleep.

She was merely an afterthought—the spare daughter not worth looking at at all. Too strange, too unusual, too…damaged. Tainted by what had transpired between herself and Tamlin. She had slept with him—Feyre wasn’t ashamed of that fact, though every other man at court was. Tamlin, too, given how he’d just…slunk off to the countryside. Though, perhaps his shame came from the fact that he’d used his fists to vent his anger and no one could ignore the bruises like they could the cruel words.

She was a princess and apparently there was some standard. The horrible truth of the matter was that Feyre would have married him anyway had he asked. She would have lied anyway and married him and some part of her hated him for just walking away. He hadn’t fought for her at all. He’d just stood there, eyes burning with some emotion Feyre didn’t recognize while Nesta tore into him and by the end, he’d packed up and left and Feyre was left holding all the pieces.

No one could tell her anything anymore. Nesta knew it, their father knew it, and the rest of the court knew it, too. Feyre was wild, half animal with her bow and her trousers and her refusal to do something nice with her hair. What was wrong with a braid, anyway? Why was her only purpose to be pretty decoration? Feyre didn’t want men to look at her.

Which brought her to her current predicament. The loathsome liar King of Velaris. Rhysand hadn’t spoken to her since the night he’d invaded her tower though Feyre wasn’t dumb enough to let him catch her alone twice in the same place.

The problem was Rhysand, she suspected. He took her avoidance as some sort of game rather than a hint to leave her alone which, in turn, required Feyre to be more creative in escaping him. Go bother Nesta, she wanted to scream though that was horrible.

Feyre wouldn’t wish Rhysand’s presence on her sister, either.

There were places even Rhysand couldn’t weasel his way into, nor his torture master couldn’t find—if thats even what he was. Feyre had been lounging in the rafters of her fathers study, sketching the scene with charcoal only to look up and find a surprised pair of hazel eyes looking back at her.

Snoop.

She should have told her father but some small part of her wanted to see what would happen if she didn’t. Feyre would tell Nesta, though. Nesta was the true power behind the throne besides and Feyre thought it might be funny to watch her sister kill one of the kings inner circle.

Maybe then Rhysand would take the hint.

Glancing from beneath her hood just to be sure no one was watching or had followed, Feyre pulled a brassy key from her pocket and slid it into a rusty door. No one came here anymore—it had once been the domain of her older sister Elain. Just like the ruined graveyard of Elain’s plants in the garden, this secret passage had been her sister's favorite place. Not because it was secluded—Elain had loved people and parties—but because of the way the gems glittered like stars in the candlelight. Far below their palace, fortified to keep from caving in, lay tunnels that housed natural hot springs born of the turbulent world churning just beneath their feet. It was just for their family, left abandoned by their mother and sister's death. Nesta never came.

Feyre did when she wanted somewhere quiet to sketch or think. She’d come after Tamlin, hoping the warm water would ease the sting of her face and the ache of her heart. Now, though, it was just an escape.

Or so she thought. Because there he was, bathed in candlelight and without a shirt. Feyre froze on the bottom of the last, stone carved step staring at the violet eyed man looking right back at her. Rhysand’s surprise was evident, made worse by his obvious delight.

Ferye turned on her heel, slipping on the moisture from the steam as waster sloshed behind her.

“Wait,” Rhysand’s deep, dark voice echoed through the space. “Stay.”

Feyre slammed her knee against the sharp edge, ripping a hole in her trousers and cutting open the skin for her effort. Hissing she tried to drown the sound of Rhys hauling himself out of the water and padding toward her. Ignoring him as he crouched beside her wearing nothing but a soaking pair of shorts was far more difficult.

He was big. Muscular, with swaths of dark skin that gleamed gold, while purple and blue hues danced against the black of his hair. She wished he’d back up because he was far too close. At least he reeked of sulfur from the water—Feyre didn't think she could stand learning he was handsome and he smelled good.

“You’re hurt,” he said, the utter moron.

“Clearly,” she bit back, inching away from him. Her sole slipped on more slick stone, tipping her back. And Rhys, with cat-like reflexes, caught her easily. Cradling her against his body. Feyre found herself eye-level with whirling patterns of black inked runes tattooed against his pectorals. She should have shoved him away.

“What do they mean?” she asked instead. That was the blood loss talking because who cared what they meant?

Looking down at her with a lock of dark hair flopping against his too-bright eyes, Rhys used the hand not holding her to trace a pattern over his skin. “I could teach you the language, if you like…but this translates roughly into luck in battle…or may my enemies be the only ones who meet a sword. This one here is the story of my first kill—”

“What about these?” she asked, twisting to look at the mountains and stars inked against his knees.

“My family line,” he murmured, inching backward. “And a promise I’ll never bow before anyone or anything but my crown.”

“Sounds about right,” Feyre snapped, her good sense coming back to her. If she’d been paying more attention, she’d have noticed what he was up to before he dumped her into the opaque water before she had a chance to even scream. Oh, she was going to kill him. Rest in peace to Nesta’s dreams of revenge against King Helion because she’d never marry Rhysand.

They’d bury him instead.

Kicking off the bottom, Feyre emerged with a rage filled scream. “Prick!”

His sultry laugh made her want to drown him. Lounging in water up to his neck, Rhys grinned at her. “You look like you might kill me, Feyre darling.”

“I am going to kill you,” she swore, splashing over toward him. She had a dagger in her now sopping wet boot, easily removed so she could thrust it into his belly.

Rhysand caught her wrist easily, fingers gripping just hard enough to hold her still beneath the water without actually hurting her. “Your father says you’re unmarriageable. Why?”

Horror filled Feyre. Had he told Rhysand that? Rhysand must have seen it on her face, too, because he gently pushed her back, releasing his hold on her body.

“I’m not marriageable—for the record,” she hissed, not wanting to give Rhysand the wrong idea. “And I don’t need to explain anything to you.”

She turned her back on him, which was difficult given she couldn’t stand. Feyre intended to lick her metaphorical and physical wounds, climb out of the hotspring, and hide away until Rhysand left.

“Because you slept with another man?” Rhysand guessed, the absolute bastard. Feyre turned again so fast her braid slapped her in the face.

“That’s my only value, right? My virginity? I got to decide who took it, depriving you of the pleasure of defiling me—”

“Did he hurt you?” Rhysand asked, all his amusement gone. In its place, Feyre found a kind of cold that only existed in the dead of night when even the stars were too afraid to illuminate the horror hiding below. She wasn’t afraid of him—that was ridiculous—but it did give her pause.

“How could that possibly matter?”

“It matters to me,” Rhysand insisted.

Stupid, she thought, but without the usual malice she felt where he was concerned. “Well, stop it. Don’t concern yourself with me at all.”

“And if I wanted to? Concern myself with you, that is?” Rhysand pressed as Feyre pulled herself from the pool of water.

“I’d call you a fool,” she replied, not bothering to look back at him at all.

Rhysand’s laughter followed her out of the cave. “I’ve been called worse, Feyre darling.”

Never in Lucien’s life had he not known what to say to a woman. Now, though, strolling through his mothers garden in the blistering afternoon heat, he found himself dumbstruck. Elain had carried most of the conversation through lunch, politely asking after his hobbies, his interests, and his life in the Sun Palace.

She was just so pretty. Lucien hadn’t felt so immediately taken with a woman since…well…Jesminda. That was enough to somber him just a little, which left Lady Elain to stare down at her feet as Lucien also said nothing at all. His guilt left him paralyzed for something to say. Could he truly just…move on? Surely that meant he’d never truly loved Jesminda, and Lucien knew he had.

Was he to mourn Jesminda forever? Did she even mourn him? Somehow he suspected her new husband kept her too busy to concern herself with the likes of him. She’d told Lucien he wasn’t going to see her again…and Lucien believed her. Jes wasn’t a liar, nor was she the type to wallow in misery.

No, that was his realm entirely.

Beside him, Elain’s hand brushed his own, jolting him back to reality. “I ah…I have something I should confess,” Elain began, clearly nervous. “I want to be completely upfront with my intentions.”

“Oh?” Lucien asked, his heart immediately racing.

“I am not a lady,” she began, the most absurd collection of words he’d ever heard in his life. Elain would have been a lady had she grown up on a farm or if she lived in the sewers far below. There was a certain quality to her, an air of refinement he didn’t think she could shake. Lucien glanced at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I believe my family to be quite ordinary and it was only through my adoption that I was elevated.”

“I see.”

“I think this might change things for you, which is understandable. There are so many well-bred ladies—”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Lucien asked, only half joking. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Color rose in her cheeks, made prettier in the golden sun overhead. “No, of course I—that’s not—”

“I’m teasing,” Lucien murmured, delighted to see her a little out of sorts. She was so lovely even as she searched for the right words—and even when those words had the potential to stop his beating heart. I’m no lady—was she spurning him, then? Lucien couldn’t stand it. “And of course you’re a lady.”

Wiping her forehead with a handkerchief she’d pulled from seemingly midair, Elain murmured, “I hardly feel like one.”

“It’s not usually so hot,” Lucien admitted, though he couldn’t pretend he didn’t like the sight of sweat streaking down her temple or the way her hair was curling tightly against the back of her neck. It drew forth several fantasies in which he might hope to see a similar sight, should he get lucky.

And Lucien suspected he’d need all the luck he could get.

He wasn’t going to touch the lady comment—as far as Lucien was concerned, Elain was more than suitable. There was absolutely no reason to reopen that door and allow her to actually reject him. Better to charm her, he thought. What was with all the women who didn’t want to be a princess? He’d grown up hearing tales of women who longed for nothing more, but now he seemed to find every woman in the world who would rather run screaming from jewels and a crown…and him.

“Are you enjoying Rhodes besides the heat?” he dared to ask. Elain shot him a shy glance, cheeks burning pink again. Lucien was certain that wasn’t just sunshine, either.

Smothering a smile, Elain admitted, “I am. More than I expected to, actually.”

Because of me, I pray?

He didn’t dare ask. Instead, Lucien intentionally reached out his fingers, brushing them along the bare skin of her hand. Elain could have jerked away if she wanted, could have stepped further along the path to keep space and yet she did neither, though her eyes remained locked ahead of them.

Well. She could have provided no better proof she was, in fact, a lady. It was such a courtly decision—both wanting the contact while knowing better than to show it. Who did she think she was fooling?

“Have you been in the city?” he dared to ask. Gods, but Lucien wanted to show her all his favorite places. And more to the point, he wanted to show the people who lived within his walls their potential new princess. He wanted them to see her beauty, wanted them to hear her pretty voice and see how sweet she was—and he wanted them to love her.

“No,” she admitted, looking up at him through thick lashes and holy gods, Lucien was obsessed with her. How did she do that? Did she know? He suspected she didn’t.

“Would you like to?” he asked, his voice breathless even to his own ears. “I could arrange a chaperone.”

He’d beg Arina to trail after them and look the other way if he managed to corner her in some dark alley where he’d kiss her until she was just as senseless as he felt.

Elain’s brown eyes were brighter than he’d seen them. “You don’t have to go to so much effort on my account—”

“It’s no effort at all. Truly, you’d be doing me a favor. I would love an escape from the palace and the heat.”

“Is it cooler in the city?” she teased, her arm brushing his own. Lucien swallowed a shudder.

“No,” he admitted. If anything it was hotter, though he had no intention of telling her so. “But it feels less oppressive the further from the palace you get.”

“A prince who doesn’t like being a prince?” Elain questioned, more teasing in her gaze than curiosity.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he replied, brushing his hand against a few swaying blooms he didn’t know the names of. “I do…probably more than I should. I dislike aspects of it—like how often I am being watched and the way I feel…”

Elain waited as Lucien debated telling her the truth. It was her soft, lilting voice that spoke, “Feel like what?”

“Like a piece of meat. An object of fascination—a curiosity, I suppose. I don’t feel real.”

“They treat you better out of the palace?” she questioned.

“Yes,” he replied with a grin. “It’s hard to take a man seriously when you’ve seen his bare bottom running through the streets as a boy. There is a familiarity among us, despite the power differential. I am their son, in a way, and no one minds telling me I’ve had too much to drink and I am acting like a fool.”

Elain laughed. “How often are you acting foolish in public?”

“Too often, I’m afraid. I will try not to embarrass you but…no promises.”

This was how he did it, then. Elain was relaxed, her expression more at ease. He could show her he, too, was just another man hardly worth the worship—though perhaps worth the rest of her life.

“So long as you don’t expect me to coddle your feelings either.”

Lucien’s body was impossibly tight, his excitement palpable. Looking down at the woman he was determined to marry, he offered her another easy smile. “Give me your worst, Elain.”

She smiled back.

“It’s a deal, Lucien.”

Arina forgot about the Alfeldian prince until that evening when she found herself standing in the grand hall staring down two equally loathsome choices. On one end stood her father, hands clasped behind his back and eyes clear for the first time in who knew how long. Years? That, of course, hardly erased his capacity for cruelty and if he was level minded, he’d be angry that she was working rather than sitting among the ladies looking for a husband.

He was usually too lost in his cups to notice what she was doing.

On the other end stood the arrogant Eris Vanserra, arms crossed over the blue and gold jacket he wore despite the impossible heat. Did he even sweat? She couldn’t see which was for the best—if she knew he was human, her dislike might soften into indifference when it came to him. Arina wasn’t stupid. She knew Eris would be back and when he returned, he’d be better prepared. It was doubtful that her death would mean anything to him. And he was royal, so he could make him some absurd lie that rang half true and get away with it.

Lucien might be her friend, but Eris was his mothers son and she would be collateral.

So Arina did the only thing that seemed reasonable in the moment: she left. She had a package from Kallias, a king on the neighboring continent Nembia who was good enough friends with Helion that Arina could request something and have it sent over for a tidy sum of gold.

She wanted to see the wintry palace Kallias was rumored to live in. Wanted to see the black sand shores of Thesan to the north and the seaside palace of Tarquin. She only ever saw paintings and heard the rumors of their own problems, their warring, their petty squabbling. By all accounts, their peace was far stronger than the tenuous truce of her own home. It felt like a powder keg with too many players on the board all at once.

She didn’t want to think about it.

Arina stepped into the warm night air, exhaling the held breath in her lungs. She had relative freedom even if it made her a pariah among her peers. No respectable man was interested in a woman so obviously smarter than him no matter how progressive Helion’s court had become. Among the nobility, they still preferred a demure woman over one who might slam her knee into his groin should he displease her.

A smile spread across Arina’s face. She had done that, hadn’t she? To a future king, no less. Lucien would have a laugh, at least, when she recounted the whole thing to him. In Arina’s defense, she hadn’t realize she was touching Eris Vanserra until it was too late, and by then, well. It wasn’t like she could walk the whole thing back. He’d have eviscerated her—he could have killed her.

Besides, it was a little fun to see him so outraged. To have the upper hand against a powerful man just once, even if she was certainly going to be in trouble with Helion the moment Eris ratted her out.

Those were tomorrow's problems, at any rate. Today, all Arina needed was to collect her package from the toll house and hide away until everyone was too lost to wine and parties to remember she existed. She’d track down Jurian and ask about Lucien’s shortlist and, if the ladies were agreeable, try and talk Lucien up while showing them some of the hidden gems of the city.

And if they were awful, she’d sit Lucien down and demand to know what was wrong with him while Jurian menaced just behind, sword in hand.

The city buzzed with excitement, overflowing with people still outdoors even as the sun vanished behind the sea. She half wished she was among them, dipping into a tavern for a drink to meet someone genuinely delighted to see her. Most of her days were sent in solitude with nothing but books for company. Arina had the unique position of knowing too much about Rhodes, having read and translated things even Helion only knew existed because she had told him they did.

The king himself would have final say over any marriage Arina ever tried to enter into rather than her father, who could merely guide the process given he controlled whatever was left of her dowry. Given the way he spent, she imagined it was paltry. Arina saved as best she could, but again.

That impressed only herself and validated her secret fear that while she desperately wanted someone to love her, she suspected no one ever would. At least she’d never find herself destitute. Not that Lucien would ever turn her out—he’d let her haunt the palace like a ghost if she wished.

Arina made it just in time, slipping through the wooden door with a smile on her face. With a quick exchange of pleasantries, she found herself clutching the brown paper wrapped book just as the doors locked shut behind her.

She could slip down to the kitchens, grab something to eat, and spend the evening in bed reading. Arina unwrapped the book as she walked, tossing the paper into a nearby waste receptacle before flipping the gold leaf edged paper open. The book itself was a century on philosophy written by a long-dead philosopher native to Thesan’s realm. Penned in careful ink by hand and illustrated in flowing, vibrant color, the book was a dream. Arina’s heart thudded in her throat, dulling her other senses as she carefully turned random pages just to preview what she’d purchased.

Maybe that was why she didn’t hear the muffled footsteps behind her until they were far closer than she preferred, and she was more isolated than she would have liked. The path from the outskirts of the city to the palace held nothing but an endless expanse of darkness and trees, too far from the tavern for her to turn back and not close enough to the nearest sentry to arrive if she started screaming now.

It’s nothing, she told herself, though her pace quickened as she slid the book beneath her arm. Just your imagination. Too many novels about killers.

But she swore the footsteps behind her quickened, too. Faster than her own steps, the presence behind her very real. She could practically feel their breath, their skin, the touch of their fingers brushing against her bare shoulder.

She hadn’t brought a weapon with her. After the run-in with Eris Vanserra, she’d tossed the dagger onto her desk and spent the next two hours alternately reminding herself to breath and pacing in front of a window while laughing hysterically.

She could do this, she told herself. She was a few minutes from the edge of the drive when that hand gripped her shoulder roughly, turning her around. A knife was pressed against her ribs, the sting of it easily puncturing the silk of her dress. It was wild, but Arina scrambled not to get away from the man shrouded in darkness, but to keep her book from slamming to the ground.

“You’re going to stay real quiet, aren’t you?” a rough voice whispered, coming close enough there was an inch of space between their combined bodies. “And you’re going to empty out those pockets for me.”

“Here,” she whispered, pulling the little purse of coins from her wrist and thrusting it against his chest. “This is all I have.”

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the book. Arina shook her head. She wasn’t going to give it to him.

“You can’t have it.”

The blade slid easily through her skin, not so deep he punctured anything and not so hard she was in true pain, but enough to scare her. Enough to draw blood. Enough to scare a whimper from her throat as he grabbed her arm, holding her so tight she knew she’d have a bruise.

“I can have whatever I want,” he whispered, parts of his face coming into view. He was no one she recognized—a stranger who had seen her engrossed in her book and decided to hurt her. “I don’t think anyone will miss—”

Arina was yanked backward so roughly she would have fallen had she not been tucked into the arm of a familiar body. Eris Vanserra was recognizable even in the dark, a beacon of light amid the starless night. He didn’t speak, didn’t need the last word this time. Or perhaps he’d decided his blade was conversation enough given he plunged it through the would-be attackers chest without hesitation.

Blood splattered against her face, causing her to turn her cheek into his chest. She’d never killed a person. Never even seen a dead body. This was awful, she decided, unable to block out that wet, gasping breath of air, the rattling choke before the body thudded to the ground.

Arina held her breath until there was nothing but the sound of crickets and her own erratic heartbeat. Only then did Eris relax his own body, carefully releasing her from his grip while grumbling softly beneath his breath so he could wipe the blade of his bloodied weapon on the stained shirt of her attacker.

“You were going to die—or worse—for a book?” he snarled, rounding on her so quickly Arina stumbled backward.

“I…” She’d just assumed he didn’t realize it was her. But looking up in those blazing, amber eyes, she saw the familiar anger from that morning.

“Are you stupid?” he demanded.

She was going to cry. Bottom lip trembling, Arina wrapped her arms around herself and whispered, “Yes.”

He hadn’t been prepared for that, but Arina found herself speechless for maybe the first time in her life. She wanted to get as far away from Eris Vanserra as she possibly could. In fact, right then, Arina never wanted to see him again. He was utterly terrifying, still holding that sword in one hand, his face a mask of unhidden disdain. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him why he hadn’t just let her die. Surely that was the best revenge for her humiliation of him earlier that day?

Eris opened his mouth to say something only to snap it closed a moment later.

End this, she told herself. With shaking legs, Arina walked toward him even though all she wanted was to turn heel and run as far and fast as she could. Surging up on her tiptoes, fingertips grazing his jaw, she pressed a feather soft kiss to his clean shaven cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

There.

No one could ever say she wasn’t grateful.

Eris didn’t turn his head, looking down at her from the corners of his eyes, nostrils flaring like a wild animal. He didn’t speak, a small mercy. Every word that left those lips was as sharp as any blade.

He didn’t stop her from leaving and when Arina turned to look over her shoulder, he was still standing over that corpse.

Watching her.

#elucien #all these men and not one braincell to be found between them

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katboykirby · 8 months

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That satan + princely mc has been living in my mind rent-free since you posted it. One concept I really love is it being a gradual thing rather than immediate grand gestures. A held door here, helping him carry his books there, subtly walking on the part of the sidewalk closer to the road when walking back from RAD together, whatever. So at first Satan doesn't even really notice. Until one day he's reading some romance novel or more realistically a bodice ripper tbh and suddenly windows bluescreens when he realizes he's imagining MC as the knight in shining armour rather than the other way around and when did that happen??

Oh, yeah, 100% you're right. In fact, I don't believe that MC would be likely to even initiate these kinds of gestures at all in the beginning.

You're still so brand new to the Devildom, see, and you're very aware of your current position - one lone human, among Hell's most powerful devils. You're not naive enough to act as if you're invulnerable, so for the first few days and weeks you take care not to draw any negative attention to yourself. You aren't cold, of course, and you still act politely to your new housemates, as that's just what comes naturally to you.

Once more time has passed and you've grown more used to things, and once you've gotten to know your demon friends a little better, that's when you start to feel a bit more comfortable. You no longer fear for your life at every turn, and the brothers aren't as intimidating or mean as they once were. Once you've been in the Devildom for a while, that's when more of your genuine personality would start to shine through.

Satan had respected you fairly enough so far, even if he wasn't as outwardly friendly with you as some of his brothers. He usually keeps himself neutral about a person until they prove themselves to be worth his time or not. And he appreciated how you didn't constantly make a fuss over nothing or cause trouble all the time, like Mammon or Levi often would. He also took note of the way you held yourself with dignity, despite being a lamb amongst wolves. He considered you respectable enough, particularly for a human.

But of course, the longer you lived together under the same roof and the more you became used to one another, the closer you became - especially after that whole debacle with the cursed tome, and after you helped him get his own body back.

He doesn't even notice the little things, at first. And he's a bit embarrassed that it took him this long to see the real you.

It was around the time that he made a pact with you that he started to notice the aspects of your personality that you'd kept hidden before. You started opening doors for him, started pulling out his chair for him, started greeting him in the mornings with a slight bow of your head. Satan liked this side of you, and he was grateful that you liked him enough in return to allow him to see it.

He enjoyed the way you would walk at his side whenever you were both on your way to or from RAD, almost like you were the one escorting him. Eventually you started to offer him your arm whenever you both were out together, and he'd simply be rude not to take it!

It didn't really hit him until the first time you kissed the back of his hand to bid him goodnight, your lips so soft and tender on his skin. It had him up till practically morningtime, tossing and turning in his bed while plagued by thoughts of you.

It all falls into place one afternoon while he casually peruses a few books from the library. It's when he's in the middle of reading a classic Devildom fantasy story that it sort of finally clicks for him - your behaviour was so welcome, so comforting, so familiar to him, because he recognised many of your gestures from his romance stories. He realised that he had been picturing you in the position of the charming prince, rather than the other way around!

Naturally this flusters him, and Satan quickly snaps the book in his hands tightly shut.

Oh, no...oh, no...

You're his Prince Charming, you're his Knight in Shining Armour -

And as much as he blushes at this fact, Satan has to admit to himself that he likes it. Really, he couldn't imagine you any other way ♡

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #omswd #satan #satan x reader #obey me reader #obey me mc #x reader #obey me satan x reader #reader insert

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citadelsanchez · 2 years

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Hey there

May I request a rick × a female short-tempered reader whose soft and kind, only with him and for him?

Thank you so much~

Heyoo. Ngl, I wrote this half asleep tbh and my brain would not give me any better ideas so I hope it's decent haha. Enjoy (:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I swear to Goddddd" you seethe, gritting your teeth and clutching the steering wheel.

You'd been stuck in traffic for a ridiculous amount of time, which was adding onto your anger from the hours before. There wasn't anything in particular that ruined your day, just the usual routine of rude customers at work, your one (and honestly only) friend pushing your buttons, and now shitty drivers making the way home insufferable.

Your almost-relationship also hasn't responded to your texts in 3 hours, which secretly made you want to scream although you'd never let it be known. He thrives off of your annoyance, there's no room for emotional vulnerability slips.

Which most people don't seem to expect from you anyway.

"You need to work on your friendliness," your manager quipped at you earlier. "Your happy tone is there but your face just looks flat and unamused constantly."

You'd just bit your tongue and refrained from saying that it's already a massive effort to keep from strangling most of those that come in everyday.

"Uh-huh, sure. So can I come over later when I get off?" You'd texted Rick, your aforementioned almost-relationship. You call it that because you've been seeing each other for a couple of months, but haven't put any labels on anything. They weren't really his thing; you guessed it came with the territory of being insanely intelligent. Nothing needed to be explained in his eyes.

You felt like the text came off as clingy, and assumed that it's why he didn't text back, which only made you feel worse. But oh, if you would have asked to sit on his cock, he would've texted back at the speed of light. Such an asshole.

You pull into your driveway now, getting out and slamming the car door. A nosy neighbor was on the sidewalk across from your house, mindlessly staring at you and the display of irritability.

You put your hands together to mimic a camera and pretend to click the top.

"Take a fucking picture, yeah?" You say and head inside. You don't mean to be so volatile and hot-headed, but in your humble defense, people truly drag it out of you.

You go into your bedroom and sigh, flinging your work clothes off to slip into casual pajamas and flop down on your bed.

"D-damn babe, judging by the way you toOOOK those clothes off, I'm assuming it wasn't a g-good day at work?" A voice says, making you screech as you had your eyes closed.

You look around the room to see Rick, stood in front of your closet, half smirking with portal gun in hand.

"Rick- fuck, don't scare me like that you massive cunt," you breathe out. You've told him that you're not a huge fan of him portaling into your personal space at random. But Rick being Rick, you might as well have been talking to the wall.

"T-tell me how it went, Ms. Grumps," he responds, walking over to sit on the bed with you. You feel a sense of comfort wash over you as his scent fills your nose and the warmth of his body radiates beside you.

You bite your lip and look down, embarrassed at how often your rage consumes you. You also don't want him to notice that your body seems to naturally detox when he's around.

"Um, ya know, just the usual stuff. Which you would know if you had texted me back," you replied, a hint of both hurt and playfulness in your voice.

He stares at you for a second before he gently puts his hand on top of yours and clears his throat.

"Yeah I-I'm sorry about that, M-Morty and I got caught up on Flarbellion chasing t-these Robobros. Almost took my fucking h-hand" Rick says.

"Uh huh, I'm sure. I just missed you" you mumble, still feeling a little upset and being unable to hide it.

"Come on d-don't be whiney, I'm- your knight in shining armor is here now," he smirks again, leaning in to move a strand of hair out of your face and put a hand on your thigh.

Your breath hitches a little and your heart starts beating rapidly. You're used to being around him and being in him but these sweet actions- they're small and rare all the same.

Rick shifts to sit behind you and starts running both hands through your hair now, one massaging your scalp slowly and the other petting it gently. You moan slightly in ecstasy from the feeling and lean back into him.

"Rick, that feeels so good."

After a minute or two you turn around and wrap your arms around him sheepishly. "Thank you, Rick. I can return the favor if you'd like."

"Th-that's okay hun, just wanted to help. I-I've got some favors you could return instead though." He says, his voice suggestive and grin as evident as ever.

"Shut up, you're the worst. And the best," you admit, realizing that in just a few minutes time he'd made all your stresses melt away completely. It happens every time.

"D-don't I know it, sweet girl," he smiles down at you, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

#rick sanchez #rick and morty #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty season 6 #rick sanchez x oc #morty smith

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lady-phasma · 1 year

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Phazzie could you please explain the appeal of Aemond? In great detail please and thanks

I can and I would be honored! I have been saving this one until I could really dig into it. Thanks for your patience, anon.

I'll start with the hair and get it out of the way. Targaryen hair. Now that's done we can move on to why Aemond is such an appealing character for so many in the HotD fandom.

Aemond doesn't have very much screen time and that makes him a bit mysterious. It also makes him fun for fic writers because there is so much blank space to fill in until the next season. You asked for "great detail" so I think the best place to start is with younger Aemond because that part of his character sets a solid foundation for aged-up Aemond who is the primary focus of the Aemond stans.

This kid is complex! Not going into controversies about bullying or whether his actions were justified, objectively Aemond was designed to be more than a one-dimensional character. Your question wasn't about why people hate him but I have to mention that his claiming of Vhagar is the point where fans seem to begin to disagree. However, that such a moment can be so divisive is evidence that it is crucial to his character development.

Back to his appeal. Until this decision is made Aemond is a kind of privileged underdog. He shows disappointment that he was not expected to fulfill any princely duties as his brother is. He is pushed aside as a second son. He isn't a true underdog because, well, he's a Targaryen prince but he has been given a hurdle that is perceived by other characters to be a major disadvantage: he does not have a dragon. For Targaryen royalty that's an embarrassment as well. We all know about the Pink Dread but it's deeper than that.

He makes a rash decision to claim Vhagar at the first opportunity. He's a kid, they act before they think. But he succeeds. Vhagar allows this princeling to ride her. I may not be a good judge of character but dragons are, they know if the rider has the mettle it takes to ride them.

So here's this kid, who lacks for nothing but a dragon, and he finally gets one... under the most inconsiderate circumstances possible. Yup, at Laena's funeral. Kids aren't smart or thoughtful as a rule. Regardless of the 'why's and placing blame, little dude ends up losing an eye by the hand of his nephew Lucerys. Now Westeros is no longer his oyster. A damaged prince, a "cripple" as Bran Stark puts it, and a second son who will have even less duty placed upon him. He's still not to be pitied and he is still privileged beyond imagining, but now his complexity becomes more interesting.

Let's jump ahead. What makes this bizarre, cocky, one-eyed price so likable? Especially when about half of aged-up Aemond's screen time is sass and being rude and literally shoving people. All of that, that's what.

Aemond's appeal is his lack of fucks. He has none to give. He lost them all with his eye. Yes, he loves his mother, honors his father, brother, and sister (don't come at me I'm sure he loves them too). He also worked hard to make sure that he could be arrogant. He didn't wake up a badass. He strove for it. He earned his cockiness. He doesn't give a shit about tourneys because tournaments are for pretty knights who wear armor and ask for favors. He needs no armor, he even discards his shield and still bests a man wielding a morning star. He antagonizes his nephews immediately because he is hyper-aware of his surroundings and planned his words carefully to instill the most insecurity in them as possible.

You might be asking 'how on earth is that appealing?' Well, because the average viewer has to give fucks, day in and day out. His air of superiority is something very few people can get away with without alienating everyone around them. This is why fiction is fun. He is superior and he knows it.

He has no plans to overthrow his brother for the crown but this man knows, and I mean knows, that he is better suited to be king. He knows he is better at everything. Is he right? That's irrelevant for most fans. This grandiosity is sexy. Not only in a sexual attraction kind of way. It's gravitas.

Yet all of that comes from this thin, graceful, precise young man with only one eye. Can you see the juxtaposition, the contradiction, that has been set up for this character? He is, by Westerosi standards, a broken thing. He inhabits a nebulous space, a space not yet concretized by the series, that requires nothing from him while also requiring everything from him.

On top of all of this is a fierce need to rectify what he sees as injustices. He is an ass when he makes his 'strong' pun, as princes can be. He isn't a lovely, compassionate person who rises above, takes the 'high road,' or 'turns the other cheek.' That is appealing as well because it's not how viewers get to navigate their own world. They have to bite their tongues and be the better person. Aemond doesn't have to at all.

To wrap up this monster answer, I want to skip to Storm's End and no, not the chomp, a bit before that. Viewers see Aemond as this rakish, cavalier, sexy Targaryen but I have my doubts that he is viewed that way in the narrative. Lord Borros's daughter isn't fanning herself and melting into a puddle at his feet. He might have Targaryen hair (you knew I couldn't mention it only once) but he is not at all "traditionally" handsome, not as he could have been perhaps, again by Westerosi standards, if he had not lost his eye.

Viewers see him as extremely sexy, again that gravitas as much as his appearance, but aren't frightened of him. The fourth wall protects the viewers from the frightening aspects of Aemond's personality, shields them. And that is the space from which all the appeal emerges. I think I've done pretty well so far to not say "I like this or that" about Aemond. I'm going to do it now. I find him appealing because he is unpredictable. I could very well be frightened of him. I'm not special. I only have a special viewpoint: from behind the fourth wall. His unpredictability makes him interesting (like claiming Vhagar at a funeral) and it makes him a bit dangerous. Of course I think he is beautiful, but that's not the je ne sais quoi of him. What Aemond does that few characters in HotD seem to be doing is making viewers genuinely curious. How that curiosity is expressed is as varied as the fans. Some hate him because he is enigmatic, others love him and project their needs onto him, some want him to be one-dimensional and perhaps evil, and nearly all of them wait with bated breath to find out what he will do next.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #asked and answered #hotd #house of the dragon #Targaryen hair is a sexuality #no teams just a crazy dragon soap opera that i am obsessed with #vhagar #ewan mitchell

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snailsgoingdowntown · 1 year

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Ruth x maid! Fem! Reader

Ruth is 30 and reader is 24, 6 year age gap cuz I'm turning 23 this year but I think Ruth is supposed to be in his early to mid thirties so I'm being kinda Self-indulent (I didn't want to make the gap 7 years so... Yeah, upped the age).

Not the actual fic that will come out, just a drabble that I came up with

Warnings: slight self-conscious on Ruth's side

Nsfw warnings: fingering, oral (f receiving)

Minors, ageless blogs that barely have anything, dni or you get blocked.

This blog contains/interacts/creates dark content, dni if you are uncomfortable with that.

No tag list for this cuz I'm on the road + I wrote it down on a sheet of paper I left at home.

I think Ruth would absolutely have a low sex drive. He just doesn't look like someone who thinks about it often, much less have the urge. I am 100% sure he's a virgin cuz like, look at him. He doesn't know how to rizz ppl up nor does he want to unless it benefits him (having maxi help with making the magical devices, but that was more peer pressure than actual rizz).

I'm just saying, Ruth would be kinda hopeless with asking out the reader, not because he's cluelese (probably seen Gable and the others pick up chicks, so has a vague idea of what and what not to do + can see how unbalanced maxi's relationship with Riftan is. He literally told him to calm down with his antics once, but thats about it if I remember correctly) but because he's just so... Blunt that it comes off as rude.

Maxi literally thinks that in the webtoon when her maid slams his drink down on the table instead of placing it down gently like she did with maxi's cup.

But anyway, I just imagine Ruth as the type of guy who at first, tries to ignore the developing feelings he has for you, and it works, but it gets harder and harder when you smile at him like that, when you return his playful banter and don't get offended at his tone and choice of words. When you don't overstep his boundaries, attempt to get to know him, his likes and dislikes, interests, how you want to learn about magic and you listen to his lectures, hell sometimes he even invites you to sit along with maxi as he goes about teaching her (only if the lady of the castle is comfortable, of course, which she will be after a while cuz I said so).

The way your face lights up in awe and wonder whenever he performs a spell or summons fire from the tip of his fingertips. The very eyes that tend to glance at his lips, and he pretends he doesn't notice. Your hands that are a bit rough from washing clothes, helping in the kitchen, cold water stinging and numbing them when you scrub the castle floors, are the very hands he wants to hold, and sometimes late at night, he imagines them pulling and tugging at his hair as you lean against 'his' table or even the library wall, and fuck if he actually had enough room to use in his tower, he would, his mouth latched onto your clit and fingers pumping in and out of your sloppy cunt -

It's not very often he gets thoughts like that, but when he does, he gets harder than riftan gets with the knights and their training.

He doesn't comment on your efforts to keep the library tidy, organizing his books and research papers to where the place looks presentable, at least. But he shows his appreciation through small favors in return - helps you with the cleaning if times allows for it, showing you flashy yet small spells that don't affect the area or people around (riftan would quite literally kill him if they did), gulping down his embarrassment as he massages your shoulders, ignoring the way you were just a bit too squimish, or how flustered you would get but accept his offer regardless.

It's not even a sexual thing, it just makes him want to wrap his arms around you, take in your scent, confess and just enjoy a simple life with you -

It's not really possible. He's just incapable of showing clear romantic intentions and affections. He's not husband material and he doesn't want kids, and he's very iffy about weddings and marriage in general when it concerns him. Besides, he's older than you, and while age gaps are common, he thinks it'd be better if you were to settle down with someone your own age. Because someone your own age would understand you better, give you children, marry you without worry.

You deserve a loving, caring husband, one who would hug and kiss you, make love to you, respects you, who isn't afraid or uncomfortable with physical affection, and doesn't have a rather bad reputation around the castle because of his personality.

So, when your hands clutch at his shirt, tilting your chin up, mouth pressing against his, he should stop you. He should stop instead of loosely wrapping one arm around your waist, bringing you closer, moving his mouth against yours. He should stop instead of clumsily bumping teeth with you, humming in content as you sigh into the kiss.

He should stop instead of going in for another kiss once you part, finally understanding what makes riftan so crazy about physical affection.

He should stop, but he doesn't.

He can't nor does he want to.

#ruth serbel x reader #utot #under the oak tree #ruth x reader #ruth serbel #ruth serbel smut

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tobitofunction · 1 year

Text

Silver to the past Part 1

still didn’t play totk as I’m saving up to get the matching switch so it won’t be part of the Sweet Child of Mine it be a separate one but it has elements of HOTD during the BOTW

yes I am obsessed with dragon/targeryans but again like my other fics no description of skin colour or hair texture just silver hair colour and purple eyes

wanted to do it in one part but didn't post in a while so I be doing two

Link was sleeping in a field in the middle of Hyrule he was surrounded by silent Princess he felt peaceful which was rare for him. He was just taking a small break from re-gaining access to the Divine Beast, he just finished the Goron one he made it halfway to the last one when tiredness hit him. Epona was also glad that she got a break from carrying him and his equipment through Hyrule's vast lands. He was so tired he didn’t even notice a girl watching him from afar, her hair covered with a large hood, her clothes also making her blend in with the travellers. The girl looked around and decided to wait a while until she engages with the Hero.

After waiting a while you finally decided to engage with Link who was still asleep, you slowly walked up to him his arms were folded behind his head and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. You gently crouched down and reached out to him when he suddenly removed his arm from behind his head and grabbed your wrist,” For how long have you been watching me?” his voice was soft yet firm it held a sense of authority it made sense though he was the hero chosen by the sword and the Princess’s appointed knight,” How did you-”,” After a while you become more sensitive to things like that” he said opening his eyes revealing beautiful blue eyes,” So going back to question how long have you been watching me?”,” Only a few hours I didn’t want to wake you but I got bored so I just thought-” you sighed and shrugged. Link sat up and let go of your wrist,” What do want?”,”I need your help the divine beast is damaging our village,” Wait what divine beast?”,”Vah Dorgonia-”,” The Phoenix divine beast?” you nodded,” I was to head that way anyway- You have nice eyes sorry for blurting it out but I have been everywhere around Hyrule and never saw this colour but it doesn’t seem new to me” you bit your lip,” Thanks it’s a trait of my people” Link nodded and stood up,” Do you have a horse?” you shook your head and readjusted the hood,” Did you walk? Is it far or do just like walking?” he chuckled,” A bit of both”,” Well Epona won’t mind taking us both the rest of the way,” he said a brown horse came trotting towards the two of you,” She’s beautiful,” you said holding out your hand for her to smell before petting her gently,” Yeah she is and the fastest and most loyal horse in Hyrule,” he said patting her neck,” Come on you go on first as you know the village directions,” he said making you nod, he helped you on the horse before getting on it himself his chest was pressed against your back,” Have you ever ridden a horse before?”,”Emmm no” you said embarrassed your cheeks becoming heated,” It’s fine I do it just tell me where to go,” he said reaching for the rain, the action lead to you being caged between his arms, and your cheeks darkened at that and you were glad for the large hood. “Go through the forest and follow the sun,” you said making Link nod as Epona began moving.

“So tell me something about yourself, as I only know you’re from the village with the final Divine Beast and have gorgeous purple eyes and like watching strangers sleep who doesn’t know how to ride a horse,” Link said making you gasp,” Wow, rude for the second last one but okay my name is y/n, my father is the head of the village and am I descended of the champion from this village” Link hummed,” Tell me more, when I woke up I didn’t have any memory of anything and the information I have from your village is scarce,” he said,” It’s intentional we don’t like visitors much, but you be welcomed you are the Hero of Hyrule after all,” you said looking back at him,” How did you know it was me? I could have been just a random traveller”,” Your sword is a dead giveaway and the legend says that hero had a horse named Epona who was fast as the wind, it’s cute that you named your horse after your old one” you teased making him blush,” What’s with the hood?”,”It’s just so people won’t stare, and that I don’t get recognised by the villagers and guards” you whispered the last part,” Wait, you went here on your own accord?” you nodded,” My dad send scouts out to find you but with no luck and they always shut down my help offer so I decided I go on my own and I did find you” you reasoned which made Link chuckle,” You sure did, fine the hood stays on until we arrive at your Dad’s.

Soon they arrived at a village giant dragon statues greeted them at the gate. Link looked the statue up and down a feeling of familiarity washed over him. “Just keep going ahead,” you said snapping him out of his trance, some villagers stopped and looked at the strange riding in with his horse, all of them had various tones of skin but all of them had one thing in common blond/white hair. Link was reminded of the sheikah.

Soon Link stopped Epona in front a large house where more dragon decor greeted him, you finally removed your hood showing silver hair, similar yet so different to the other villagers. The colour just shimmered in the sunlight. Link was about to say something when he was cut off,” Princess your father request your presents immediately including your guest” a guard. You nodded and ran up the stairs with Link following,” Y/N what in Hylia’s name have you been, you can’t just leave on your own accord, you’re my heir my ONLY HEIR” your father said standing up from his seat, he had the same hair colour as yours, his eyes a different shade of purple than you.” I know father but i offered my help to find the hero and I did this is Link, the hero from a 100 years ago” your father narrowed his eyes,” How is that possible?”,” When I got hurt during the battle Princess Zelda ordered the Sheikah to bring me to the shrine of resurrection where I healed for 100 years” Link said making your father nod,” He also has the sword-”,” I still need you to prove me that you’re the chosen one, I want to you claim the Cannibal” your face drained of colour,” The Cannibal?”Link asked confused with his eyes furrowed,” The Cannibal is a dragon which homes in a cave between the mountains not far from here. He got the name as often devours his own kind and anyone who tried to claim him was killed. He appeared ages ago no one when he actually arrived here”,” Claim the Cannibal and I believe you are the hero and will let you go to the Divine Beast” Link nodded,” I bring you to him, it will take days on horseback” you said making your father sigh,” Y/N...nevermind you just do it anyway just come back in one piece”. You grabbed Link’s hand and dragged him outside,” If we aren’t taking a horse what will we take?”, you grinned,” You will see”.

The two of you walked up a large building with guards standing in front of them,”maghagon nyke ñuha zaldrīzes (bring me my dragon)” one of the guards nodded and went inside the building,” Have you ever seen a dragon?”,”The dragon spirits Farosh, Dinraal and Naydra” you nodded impressed,” Impressive seeing one the dragon spirits unclose is a dream of many of us” you smiled when the ground began vibrating,”I want you to meet someone” soon one of the guards returned with a large black dragon, Link backed away in shock it looked different to the Dragon Spirit more menacing. You walked over to the large beast and caressed her neck,” Hello girl, ready to fly?” you looked over at Link and waved him over,” This Black Fire, she’s my dragon-”

“Come on Link don’t be scared he won’t bite you” An airy laugh followed, and the silver-haired girl dragged him towards a massive dark as-coal dragon with piercing green eyes,” Shadow this Link, he’s my friend and a fellow champion. We need to go the divine beast could you take us” she asked pressing her face against the dragon's neck.

“Hey Link is everything okay?” you asked worriedly,” Yeah I just got a memory of one the champions, she had a black dragon as well, his name was Shadow” You nodded,” It was Nyra's dragon, she was the champion of our people, she used Shadow to destroy as many of this robot creatures before she used the divine beast, after her death Shadow was never seen again” you sighed,” Come on the sun is setting already” you climbed onto the dragon and grabbed the reins, Link after a couple of seconds followed, his arms wrapped around your waist holding on tightly,”Keep that tight hold it be bumpy. Sōvegon (Fly)”.

Link flew on a back of a Rito before but this was different, it felt more magical than anything he ever experience.

“How are you finding it so far?” Nyra asked Link as they flew over Hyrule,” It’s nothing I have experienced before I love it. Thanks, Nyra for giving me the chance and of course thanks to you too Shadow” Link said while still holding onto his fellow champion and one of his closest friends. Just like with Zelda, he opened up to her about his struggles it took a while but now they hang out with each other as often as possible,” Come on let’s return to the divine beast” she said pulling on the reins to make the dragon turn around.

Link felt a pinch on his tight which made him yelp,” What was that for?” he said his voice slightly loud due to the altitude,” I said to hold on tight as we are landing soon but you didn’t reply and your grip loosened” you defend,” Sorry I got another memory” he said while Black Fire landed on a large field,” You have that happen often to you?”,” Some events trigger memories, we’re are we?” he asked looking around,” A bit away from the cave were the cannibal residents. You be going the rest on your own as otherwise it won’t work and Black Fire won’t go near the cave either she can sense the energy” Link nodded,” Anything I need to be aware off”,” Always look it into the eye, show no fear, Dohaerās means to serve you can try saying it with his name following with your hand stretched out but one accounter said one of who survived but didn’t claim him said that this song seemed to calm him down. You handed Link a scroll,” Can you read it to me? So I know how to say it probably?” you hummed.

“Drakari pykiros (fire breather) Tīkummo jemiros (winged leader) Yn lantyz bartossa (but two heads) Saelot vāedis (to a third sing) Hen ñuhā elēnī (from my voice) Perzyssy vestretis (the fire have spoken) Se gēlyn irūdaks (and the price has been paid) Ānogrose (with blood magic) Perzyro udryssi (with words of flame) Ezīmptos laehossi (with clear eyes) Hārossa letagon (to bind the three) Aōt vāedan (to you I sing) Hae mērot gierūli (as one we gather) Se hāros bartossi (and with three heads) Prūmysa sōvīli (we shall fly as we were destined) Gevī dāerī (beautifully, freely)” Nyra sang to her dragon Shadow she sat sitting in a field with the dragons head on her legs stroking his head gently, a satisfied grumble left the dragon’s mouth,” He really is your son,”Link said speaking up making the Champion look behind her,”With the job I have been given I never will have a human child, so Shadow is like a son I would do anything for him, his pain is fine. We are bonded since the day he hatched from his egg where we shared a cradle. Come on sit down” she patted the spot beside her before she began singing again.

“Shadow” Link mumbled once you're done,” Shadow? The Champions Nyra’s dragon?” Link nodded,”Yes, I remember. She used to sing the song to him quite often, he was her son bonded since both of them were born”,” Yes, when we are young, a dragon egg is placed in our cradle and it hatching will distinguish a normal Valyrian Hylian from Valyrian’s with dragon blood who is the head of the clan. Everyone in my family has one and our bond is unbreakable not even death can break it, some dragons might even choose to die alongside their riders. Shadow was probably one as well” Link bit his lip and shook his head before grabbing you by the shoulders,” I believe the Cannibal is Shadow, think about it you really don’t know when he showed up and the song which seems to comfort him is the exact one Nyra used” his blue eyes looked into yours,”If that’s true he might still recognise you which means you have a higher chance of survival” Link nodded before removing his sword,” Take care of my weapons, I don’t need them. If it’s Shadow he is traumatised by any sort of weaponry and I need everything to be on my side” you huffed when taking the master sword, it was heavy. Link chuckled at the sight,” Cute” he said making you glare at him,” I be back as soon as possible”

#botw link #loz botw #link x reader #loz link x reader #botw link x reader #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #totk link x reader #Targaryen!reader #totk link #link x fem!reader #botw x reader #botw x fem!reader #botw link x fem!reader #totk!link x fem!reader #totk x fem!reader

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skyloftian-nutcase · 11 months

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Breath of the Sky Ch 11 (SS meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

(AO3 link)

Chapter 11: Fledgling Friendships

Zelda walked with haste, her mind so preoccupied with everything she’d just learned. She was caught in a confused haze, head whirling with too many words and images, to the point that she couldn’t focus on a single coherent train of thought. It felt like when she’d started to recover her memories – her mind had been so utterly overwhelmed with an entirely new life and revelation that she’d been practically catatonic for a few hours sometimes.

Speaking of being completely distracted, Zelda gasped in surprise when she nearly collided right into someone as she rounded the corner. The person had quick reflexes, taking a step back, and it took her a minute to recognize him.

It was that knight from before. The one with the Master Sword.

“Oh!” she said softly, eyes wide. “You’re—”

She paused, realizing several things at once. First, her interactions with him had been amidst a high amount of stress and emotions, meaning she’d been fairly rude, and second, she had absolutely no idea what his name was.

“U-uh…” she continued awkwardly. “I don’t think I ever actually got your name, sorry.”

The knight watched her carefully, face decidedly neutral as he blinked a few times, and then he said in a soft voice, “Link.”

Zelda stared.

Of course his name is Link, her mind whispered. Link and Zelda, here to save the world from Demise once again. What a cruel joke.

Had the Golden Goddesses even done anything to try to stop this? She barely remembered anything about them, even with all her recovered memories of a life past. Did they even care? Somehow she couldn’t figure it out – she felt like a part of her knew they were distantly invested, but she also reasoned out that they’d left her in charge of everything, which implied that they… weren’t paying attention anymore.

She didn’t even know. All she knew was that she was screwing up this conversation like she had the others.

“Right. Link.” She said, trying to gather her thoughts. “Um. I’m Zelda.”

The two stared at each other a moment, and then Zelda wanted to smack herself. Hastily, she shook her hands with an embarrassed laugh. “But you already—I mean—wow okay, I just—”

She sighed, cutting herself off. “I’m sorry. I’m—this is a lot. I wasn’t—I wasn’t prepared for any of this.”

The strange knight watched her, and his lack of reaction made her a little uneasy. His silence reminded her of her own Link, but her husband was so expressive, she could practically read his thoughts on his face. This one was very much the opposite.

What… had they done to him? Was he just like this? No one was naturally just like this.

“I guess it would be confusing to call me Zelda, what with the princess and all,” she said, trying to keep a conversation going. “But um… it’s nice to meet you. Formally, I mean. Because like… you know, we didn’t… I mean we met before, but I never got your name and there was a lot of stuff going on.”

The knight nodded subtly.

Zelda wondered if perhaps this was anxiety, or the same breeding as the other guards who had knelt and not even looked her in the eye. At least he was making eye contact.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, this Link also seemed to realize it, and his eyes widened as he clumsily fell to his knee.

Zelda had to laugh at the maneuver, feeling equal parts guilty and amused. “Hey, it’s okay, stop doing that. I’m… we’re going to be working together a lot, I think. Please. Can we just be friends?”

Slowly, the knight glanced up at Zelda, timidness evident in the way his eyebrows were raised and how he hid his eyes under his hair. Zelda smiled, crouching down to be at eye level with him, and the motion made him pull back just a hair, eyes widening.

“I promise I don’t bite,” Zelda laughed. “Well. I mean… okay, if you asked my husband he’d say I bite but—”

The knight’s face flushed, and Zelda realized what she’d just said, hastily tripping over herself to explain, “I mean—like—like as in I can be aggressive, but—oh my gosh, that’s not—I’m—”

Just shut up, you’re making it worse!

“Ugh, this is so stupid,” Zelda finally said aloud, smacking herself in the face and rising. “I’m sorry, let’s just try again. I want to be friends, okay?”

The knight watched her for what felt like an eternity before he slowly stood. It seemed like it was the best reaction she was going to get out of him.

“So anyway,” Zelda continued awkwardly. Trying to have a conversation with this teenager felt like pulling teeth. Her own Link (good grief, they’d need to find a way to differentiate) had been very quiet and shy when they’d first become friends, but he hadn’t been so understated on top of it. “I was looking for the princess. Do you know where she is?”

The knight shook his head.

Zelda hummed thoughtfully. “Well, maybe we can look for her together? You know this place better than me; I’d get absolutely lost.”

The knight swallowed, nodding slowly. When nothing else happened, Zelda motioned for them to start walking down the cavernous hallway. A few moments later she realized he wasn’t beside her. She glanced back to see if he’d just stayed put, but instead he was following her a few paces back.

"You know... the hallway's big enough we can walk beside each other. You don't have to walk behind me." She noted, waving the space beside her with a smile.

The swordsman took a shaky, fortifying breath before stepping ahead a little faster to catch up to her. He continuously glanced at her, though he kept his face decidedly neutral. Zelda had to chuckle at it – the poor thing was very anxious, wasn’t he?

Her smile faded, as she realized her earlier behavior was probably part of the reason. That and, well… all the other things.

“I’m sorry,” she reiterated. “I… remember how I said I only bite sometimes? When people I love are in danger… I mean… especially Link… I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted, you know? I’m sorry I was mean to you.”

The knight stopped abruptly, making Zelda skid to a halt. He immediately regretted his decision, awkwardly trying to resume their walk and then stopping again when Zelda didn’t move.

“What is it?” she asked.

The newer Link remained stubbornly silent. Zelda crossed her arms. “I know you can talk, Link.”

The knight shriveled subtly, looking at the floor.

Zelda watched him a while longer, confused. “What’s wrong?”

After another shuddering breath, the knight whispered, “It’s n-nothing, Your Grace. I beg your pardon for s-stopping.”

The assertive, stubborn part of Zelda swelled within her, wanting to grab this knight by the shoulders and shake him and say she wasn’t going to strike him down if he uttered a sound and that he needed to lighten up. But she held herself in check, smiling instead and holding a hand out as if to a scared child. “Well let’s keep going, then. Maybe you can tell me about the palace?”

This Link watched her hand hesitantly as the realization dawned on him, and he slowly raised his own hand in response. When his fingers delicately folded around hers, he made a motion to kneel again, and Zelda was reminded strikingly of her and Link’s conversation in the Temple of Hylia.

She quickly jerked him towards her once she had a grip on him, erasing that memory and any attempt to repeat it. The knight stumbled forward, face finally expressing terror and shock, before she caught him easily by the shoulder. Then she laughed. “That’s better! Let’s go.”

Having his hand in hers was a grounding force for Zelda, and she sighed in relief as they strolled through the hallway. His grip was stiff, though, reminding her that she really should try to ease his worries. She herself was filled with a thousand anxieties, but she didn’t want to scare him when he already seemed petrified.

She wondered how knowing his destiny had affected him. What he even expected his destiny to be.

She’d ask later. He was far too scared for such a conversation right now. And it delayed the inevitable for a while longer – befriending him meant she didn’t have to think about the king’s request… at least until she found the princess.

“So what’s your story, Link?” she asked. “My husband trained as a knight too, you know. A lot of us do on Skyloft. Was it kind of just expected for you too? My father’s the headmaster of the knight’s academy, what about your family?”

Before Link could even attempt to answer, his gaze drifted elsewhere, and Zelda tracked it to see one of the colorfully dressed guards ahead. He looked like he was heading somewhere rather than standing guard, but he quickly noticed them. For an instant his eyes were fixed on Link rather than Zelda, and then he knelt.

Wait, she recognized this guard. “Hey, you’re the guard who found us in Castle Town the other night!”

“I am, Your Grace,” he acknowledged.

For a split second there was a strange moment where the guard glanced up long enough to look somewhere between Zelda and the knight she was with, and then he looked at the ground once more.

“Thanks for the help that night,” Zelda said. “You know, with answering questions and all that.”

“It is my honor, Your Grace.”

He reminded Zelda of Impa. Her Impa. He held a very strong sense of duty and protocol but wasn’t groveling or petrified like the others. She liked him.

“Do you know where Princess Zelda is?” she asked. “Link and I were looking for her.”

“To my knowledge, Your Grace, the princess is in her quarters.”

Zelda looked around uncertainly. “Oh. Uh… do you know where that is?”

“I can take Your Grace there if you please.”

Zelda hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Link. “Do you know where it is?”

The knight swallowed and nodded.

With that settled, Zelda smiled at the guard. “We got it, thanks! I don’t want to bother you too much, I’m sure you have important duties to attend to.”

She knew better than to wait for an acknowledgement, given how everyone acted around her, so instead she tugged the swordsman along as they walked around the guard. The hallway seemed to be never ending, and it felt like the knight was dragging his feet the farther they went.

Zelda tried to ease his worries, as well as her own, by talking about anything but what she’d just discussed with the king. “So how long have you been here? Do you know the castle pretty well?”

“I can direct you, Your Grace,” came the hesitant and quiet answer.

“No, that’s not—I mean like have you been here long,” Zelda clarified.

“A few years, Your Grace.”

“Oh! So you must be pretty familiar with all this,” Zelda said cheerily. “I could never – this place is so huge. Skyloft isn’t nearly this big. It’s just… it’s really amazing seeing what our settlement turns into. I never imagined it would be this big.”

When Link didn’t comment, Zelda changed tactics. “So how long will it take to get to the princess’ quarters? I feel like you could spend a couple days just going from one side of the castle to the other.”

The swordsman stilled, eyes downcast. Zelda watched him confusedly for a moment, prompting, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re…” he muttered. “We’re going the wrong way, Your Grace.”

Zelda blinked. Then she laughed. “Well, why didn’t you tell me, silly!”

As the pair got turned around, Zelda finally decided she really did need to address the skytail in the room. “Look. I… I understand this is weird, you know? With the ceremony, with how I acted before… but… I’m… we’re going to be working together and…”

Zelda paused, feeling vulnerable and not entirely sure she liked it. But if it meant this knight would stop acting so weird, she was willing to speak a little on the matter. “This place is overwhelming to me. I’m… I’m scared too. Please don’t think that just because your people worship means that I actually am an infallible goddess. I’m just me, I promise.”

Despite her words, she got little reaction from the knight. Sighing, she looked away, but then she felt the slightest squeeze in her hand, and she belatedly realized it was Link trying to give her something to work with.

She looked back at the knight and smiled. “Well… I guess we should keep looking. Maybe you should lead the way, though.”

The knight nodded, walking ahead with her hand still in his. With their objective made clear, Zelda found herself just as silent as her companion, no longer really able to push off the thoughts that were nagging her earlier. She instead redirected her attention to examining the knight. He really held little to no resemblance to her own Link – he was thinner in build, a little shorter, his hair was lighter and longer and less fluffy, and his demeanor was practically entirely opposite. Yet… there was something about him that made her watch him, something eerily familiar and practically magnetic.

Not to mention the sword that rested on his back.

Zelda felt the wind get knocked out of her just looking at the blade. It was still distressing realizing that after everything…

Why? Why? She had planned it all so meticulously, even had backup plans – for heaven’s sake, Link was the backup plan. He wasn’t even supposed to be involved if it wasn’t necessary.

Yet everything had failed. Everything.

She had failed in the original war. She’d only sealed him away, and at a terrible cost. She’d failed in the new plan, to obtain the Triforce herself, if possible, rather than involve Link. She’d failed in the backup plan, where Link was supposed to be the one to fix things while she held the seal.

Tears stung in her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away before anyone could notice. Why did Demise have to be a reality they still had to contend with? Why couldn’t they just… have a kingdom and be happy? Surely there were enough problems in the world without a demon king adding to them?

Perhaps it serves as a unifying thing, she thought listlessly, a small glimmering of hope latching to it. Everyone can get behind defeating pure evil.

If that were the case, though… if the entire world was unified in supporting this knight and the princess… why did he seem so broken and afraid?

She supposed it was a silly question. She herself had been terrified on her journey. But she’d had Impa. Link had Fi.

Who did this boy have? Surely he had everyone, right? Was he just naturally this timid? Or was it because she was viewed as Hylia by all?

Zelda’s musings were interrupted when they stopped in front of a door. The knight hesitantly raised his free hand to knock and then paused, glancing at her and waiting for her to give some kind of signal.

Smiling, she pushed ahead and knocked gently on the door. When she got no response, she started to open it, curious if the princess was even there. The pair slowly shuffled into the room, both a little sheepish (one far more so than the other), and then paused in the entranceway.

The soft snoring from the bed was immediately familiar. The two lumps in the bed told her the rest.

Zelda snorted out a laugh. Of course Link had somehow found his way here to sleep. She was surprised the princess was asleep in the middle of the day though. Her heart warmed with endearment as she whispered, “I guess some traits did make it through all the generations.”

Apparently Princess Zelda was as much of a sleepyhead as Link was.

She honestly didn’t want to wake them. She was certainly curious how Link had found his way here and how much he had talked to the princess before they’d both settled in for a nap, but she also didn’t want to disturb the moment. She definitely didn’t want to address the issue that had brought her here.

But there was honestly little point in avoiding it. Sighing, she pulled out some feathers from her pouch she’d been carrying with her, handing one to the knight. As she did so, she saw his stupefied expression as he stared at the pair in the bed, eyes wide and face pale.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

The swordsman jumped, startled, and glanced at her, bemusement apparent. His cheeks flushed, and he glanced between her and the bed.

Zelda stared, completely baffled. A thought slowly coalesced in her mind, picturing all the stiff protocol she’d seen so far. “Is this something to do with manners or something? Because she’s an important figure?”

The swordsman blinked, and despite his efforts for his stoicism, the disbelief was apparent on his face.

“You’re an important figure too, so it shouldn’t be a big deal to be in here, right?” Zelda questioned confusedly. “I mean… you didn’t have any issues leading me here.”

The knight’s brow furrowed.

“You were with her earlier,” Zelda threw out the observation with a shrug. “What’s the problem?”

When she got no response, she handed the feather over to him. “Here. I’ll wake up Link, you wake up the princess.”

Zelda went to the bed without sparing him another glance, bending over and inching the feather close to her beloved’s nose. Link was curled into the blankets, his face barely visible, but she still managed to maneuver the weapon into place. As she tickled under his nose, she giggled when he scrunched it in response, his brow furrowing. Link groaned slightly, slinking away and bumping into the princess’ back. Zelda smirked, having already started to wake him up, and decided drastic measures were required. Leaping into the air, she landed on the bed, bouncing right beside her husband as he yelped and kicked in all directions, landing a hit on both his wife and the bedpost.

“Ouch!” they both yelled as the princess squealed and fell right out of the bed with a loud thud.

Gasping, Zelda crawled over Link to look over at the floor, where the knight had also rushed to the princess’ side. “Are you okay?”

The princess was panting for air as if she’d run across all of Skyloft ten times over. Zelda felt a little guilty – she supposed she shouldn’t have startled the girl. She was just having some fun with Link.

“Sorry,” Zelda said, making the princess freeze. The girl looked up at her, horror in her eyes, and then she registered the knight in front of her and squeaked, pulling a blanket off the bed to wrap herself in it. In doing so, she yanked both Zelda and Link, making them tumbled over each other, but the princess didn’t have enough strength to actually get the cloth out from under them.

The knight rose to his feet awkwardly, brow pinched as he looked between the three.

“Zelda,” Link whined from underneath Zelda. Both she and the princess looked at him, and it was at that moment that Zelda realized they really needed to work out a naming system for everyone.

In the meantime, she said, “It’s time to get up, sleepyheads!”

Despite her cheer and Link’s good-natured grumbling, the princess seemed absolutely… mortified. She looked at the knight in horror, cheeks as red as Groose’s hair, and she pulled her nightgown more tightly around her, burying her face in her knees.

Zelda looked between the pair. She was definitely missing something. The knight turned around to look a different direction, staring pointedly at the wall.

Honestly, they were acting as if they’d stumbled in on the princess bathing or something.

Oh. Wait. Was… was finding her sleeping bad in this era?

Just as Zelda was about to ask, the princess rose and rushed towards some stairs, disappearing quickly. Zelda and Link exchanged confused glances. Before she could go after the girl, though, Link followed her, leaving her and the knight alone in the bedroom.

“That was weird,” Zelda muttered. “Is… did we do something wrong?”

The knight turned slightly, eying her in profile. From this vantage point, his neutral glance looked more questioning.

“Seriously, though,” Zelda pressed on. “I… you guys act so differently from us. What’s wrong?”

Eventually, the knight seemed to realize she was genuinely asking, and he faced her fully. “It’s… not proper to see someone undressed like that. Or in bed with... B-but—that just doesn't apply to Your Grace, I—”

Here the knight’s mouth snapped shut, like he was trying to explain but was fumbling too much to try and continue. Zelda watched him a moment longer, thinking about it, and then sighed. “Oh. Oops. I’m sorry.”

The room was dead silent, and then Zelda continued, staring at her lap. “It’s just… so different here. I didn’t mean any offense or anything. I didn’t mean to upset her, or you.”

She sighed, glancing up, and smiled despite the knight’s seemingly neutral reaction. “Well, maybe we shouldn’t linger in here, then. If it’s going to upset her and all. Can you show me where the gardens are? There were tiny birds there that I liked.”

The knight glanced at the stairs, as if to express his concern for the princess, and Zelda hopped off the bed, waving her hand. “Don’t worry about the princess. Link will talk to her.”

You’re avoiding the actual conversation you need to have, a voice whispered in her mind, but she ignored it. She didn't want to further upset the princess, after all. She'd let Link smooth it over; the pair had seemed to have bonded a little, at least. She could learn about the knight instead. He had the Master Sword. He was important too.

“Show me the way to the garden,” she asked, holding out her hand. “And tell me about yourself! I’ll tell you about me.”

The knight watched her before quickly taking her hand, as if he didn’t do so fast enough he’d be in trouble. She frowned at it. “Remember I said we could be friends, right?”

The knight stared at her. Zelda sighed. This was going to take some work. But she’d figure it out.

XXX

The stone stairs in the room led to a hallway that connected to a separate tower. Link had to marvel at the size of this place all over again. The room downstairs alone could act as a house for most on Skyloft.

Never mind the scale, however – something was upsetting the girl, the princess. What was her name again?

Oh, he abruptly remembered. Oh.

Princess Zelda was seated on the ground of the hallway between the stairs and the tower, knees tucked under her chin. Her head barely peeked over the stone railing. A gentle breeze blew by, rustling her soft silky robe and dress, rustling hair into Link’s face as he carelessly brushed it aside.

Approaching her hesitantly, Link asked, “Are you okay?”

The princess jumped, startled at his approach and his words. “Am I—what are you doing out here, you can’t see me like this! Nobody but servants and my family—”

She stopped abruptly. Link stared at her. The word family bounced around in his mind again, feeling so foreign and magical, bizarre and otherworldly, exciting and terrifying.

This girl was his family. Separated by countless years, yes, but family nonetheless. Link… hadn’t had that in a very long time. At least not by blood.

“You’re—I mean—don’t you understand how improper that was?!” the princess tried again, burying her face in her knees. “I can’t do anything right.”

“Improper?” Link repeated, tilting his head to the side. “Why?”

“Why?” the princess repeated, baffled as she looked at him once more. “What do you—because it’s—I’m dressed too—and I was in bed with—and—”

She lost either her nerve or her ability to articulate at this point, shaking her head and plopping her forehead on her knees once more. Link watched her a moment longer, unsure, and moved to sit beside her when she jumped, seeming to realize something.

“I don’t—I’m sorry to be rude,” she said hastily. “I-it isn’t my intent to be disrespectful or anything, it’s just—I—isn’t it improper for you too? Why were you in my bed?!”

Link furrowed his brow. Her tone had changed, as if she’d gone from mortified to scared. What was she afraid of?

…Was she afraid of him?

Link bit his lip uncertainly, plopping himself onto the ground beside her. What reason did she have to be afraid of him? Was it because of the big fuss her people made the other night? If the words they spoke in their fairytale rendering of his journey were what they truly believed, then they really didn’t understand the full magnitude of the situation.

They didn’t understand that this was his fault. They shouldn’t be showing him any kind of respect. Link hadn’t done his job, apparently.

Demise was still alive.

The thought both chilled him to his core and enraged him. He wanted to hunt him down now, he wanted to kill him now, he wanted to run away and hide in a corner and beg Fi to wake up and tell him what the hell he was supposed to do. None of this had been part of the plan.

Not like he’d been privileged to the plan anyway.

Link shook his head, ridding his mind of the unexpectedly bitter thought. He needed to focus on the princess, not his own issues.

“I’m sorry you’re upset,” he offered quietly.

“Link saw me in bed! And I was in bed with a stranger—well, you’re not a stranger, but—but you’re the Hero of Myth and Legend! The rumors that will fly—” the princess shook her head, her hands reached to her scalp and dug through her hair anxiously.

Was that what was bothering her? Rumors? ��You shouldn’t worry about what others think of you. Besides, what are they going to say?”

“We were in bed together!”

“And?”

The princess stared at him again, a baffled expression on her face. “Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

Link squinted, wondering what in the world she was getting at. “…No?? Beds are for sleeping, and that’s what we did?”

The princess stared at him and seemed to give up, sighing and looking away.

“Who cares about rumors, anyway?” Link said, shrugging.

“It matters what people say about me,” the princess muttered. “You don’t have an entire kingdom relying on you.”

Link paused, feeling the heaviness in her words. He… didn’t really have a way to fathom it. The highest authoritative figure he knew was the headmaster, and Gaepora had never really cared if students didn’t like him. He wasn’t a bad man, but he did what he thought was best whether the students liked it or not. Besides, what if he had listened to popular opinion? What if he’d listened to Groose when he whined that Link wasn’t good enough for the academy?

Before Link could really ponder the matter more, the princess jolted and looked back at him and shook her head. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“No, you’re right,” Link cut in. “I don’t have that many people relying on me like that, I guess. I can’t even think about it. Just based on how many people I saw at the party… you have a lot depending on you.”

The princess bit her lip, looking down before returning his gaze. “You did too, I suppose. I shouldn’t assume that my problems are greater than yours, that just because I’m incapable in my duty that yours was somehow lesser.”

“Incapable in your duty?” Link repeated. “Is today really that bad?”

The princess sighed wearily. “No, it’s… it’s not that. I’m sorry.”

Silence filled the air, only interrupted by the wind whistling past flags and between the stone teeth cut into the railing above them. Link shifted uncomfortably; usually he wasn’t bothered by silence, but the anxious and dejected air about the girl was unfitting and he wanted to fix it. He tried changing tactics.

“Your name is Zelda, right?” Link asked, and the princess nodded. “That’s… so weird.”

At the princess’ bemused and embarrassed look, Link hastily added, “N-not in a bad way! It’s just… my wife’s name is Zelda too. I’m going to get you two confused if I say Zelda and you’re both with me!”

“She goes by Zelda?” the princess questioned.

“Yes,” Link immediately answered firmly. “She… she went by Hylia before, but ever since her, uh… her rebirth, she prefers to go by Zelda. It’s who she is now.”

“That’s so… fascinating,” Princess Zelda whispered, glancing off to Link’s left at nothing in particular.

“Well, either way, it’s going to be confusing,” Link said, dismissing the focus on his wife’s past. He didn’t entirely understand it still, but he knew it bothered her. He’d seen her discomfort during the feast, so he wasn’t going to encourage the behavior to continue. “Do you have a nickname? She doesn’t. Or—wait, your dad has like fifty names, right? Do you have more names?”

The princess stared at him a moment and then burst out laughing. Then her hands flew to her mouth, her cheeks as red as his loftwing. “I—I’m sorry, n-no, I don’t.”

Link thought about it a moment. “What about Zellie?”

The princess stared at him. “Zellie?”

Link shrugged. He wasn’t going to call her something she didn’t like, but she wasn’t coming up with anything, so he figured he’d just throw it out there. The princess watched him a moment longer, her gaze growing distant as a small smile played at her lips.

Closing her eyes, she seemed to try to center herself. “My mother used to call me that.”

Oh. Maybe a bit too personal, then. Link was about to say so when the princess said, “I like it.”

Link smiled. “Ok. Zellie, it is.” Then he grew somber as he remembered not seeing a female king (was there a term for that?) at the feast. “What… happened to your mother?”

“She died when I was six,” the princess answered. Her tone was neutral, polite, but he could tell in the way she was squeezing her hands that it still bothered her.

Link watched her for a moment longer and then looked away. “I’m sorry. I lost my dad around that time too.”

He heard her turn her head to look at him. “You had a dad?”

Link whipped his head to stare at her. “Yes??”

Then he remembered their story from the other night and he laughed. “I—I wasn’t made from a cloud, you know! I was born to parents just like you!”

The princess’ face flushed bright red. “I—”

Link waved a hand as he giggled. “It’s okay, it’s what you were taught. I just—”

He couldn’t continue, falling apart into a fit of laughter. Maybe he should have just said he actually was made from clouds; it would have been funnier.

I’ll do it next time someone asks.

“So… how did Hylia… I mean, did she even…” Zellie shifted to face him more fully. “What happened?”

Link’s laughter died down, reality sinking into him once more. He cleared his throat a little uncomfortably. “Uh… she… I mean, she chose me, but…”

“Is Hylia your… your mother…?” the princess asked, her face pinched in a manner that showed she was disgusted at the thought but trying not to show it.

“Ew, no!” Link immediately exclaimed. His reaction caused the princess to flinch, but the girl also looked relieved at the words. “My mother was a craftswoman, she worked in the bazaar.”

“What did she make?”

Link stared off and shrugged, looking back at her somewhat apologetically. “I… don’t remember what my dad said she made, honestly. He’s been gone so long, and… she died giving birth to me. I never knew her.”

She looked sad. “I’m sorry. To never know what having a mother is like… I can’t imagine.”

“What was your mother like?”

Zellie stared at her hands as her legs slowly slid out and straightened. “She was… wise. Beautiful. Caring and so gentle. She always seemed to know what to do.”

The princess bit her lip, somehow growing even more somber.

“I’m sorry,” Link said quietly. “She sounds like a good mother.”

“Oh, how I wish she could have met you and the goddess,” Zellie said, a sad smile playing at her lips. “I imagine she would have loved it. And… yes. She would have loved it.”

“She probably is loving it,” Link nudged her with his shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. “Wherever she is. She’s probably laughing and thinking it’s silly that you were upset earlier.”

Zellie huffed. “It isn’t silly! My position is important, and maintaining dignity is part of it. I’m not like you, I…”

The princess cut herself off, rising abruptly, before she jolted and crouched beneath the railing to stay out of sight. It was… rather silly to watch. Link felt a little bad for her.

“Why aren’t you like me?” he asked.

Zellie continued to face away from him in her awkward crouch, and her shoulders drooped as she sighed. “Oh, this is all wrong. I shouldn’t be speaking to you this way, I apologize.”

“Why? What other way should you be speaking to me?” Link queried, wondering if she’d ever turn around. “I’m just me.”

“You’re the Hero. Created by Hylia—or, well, chosen by Hylia, I guess, but—you defeated the Calamity! You’re—” Zellie finally did turn, struggling for words. “I should be showing so much more respect to you. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” Link immediately assuaged her worries, giving her a gentle smile. “I don’t like being talked to like I’m some fairytale. I’m a person, just like you.”

“I’m a princess.”

“So does that mean you’re not a person?”

“No! No, it’s just…” Zellie sighed, unsure how to continue. Then she huffed. “What you did the other night was just because you wanted to, wasn’t it? It had nothing to do with dominance.”

Dominance?? “Huh?”

“When you sat on the throne with the goddess.”

“I felt like I was going to pass out,” Link explained sheepishly. “I needed to sit. Also, Zel looked upset.”

The princess stared at him. Blinked. And then she let out a shaky breath. “You… oh, you’re still sick, that’s right.”

“No,” Link argued. “I was overwhelmed. I’ve never seen so many people, especially not all staring at me.”

“You… were scared?”

Link bit his tongue a moment. He’d gotten into the habit of saying he wasn’t scared, of saying things didn’t bother him. He’d had to. But… he felt like honesty was needed here. “…Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

If you wish to be of help to Her Grace, you must summon a shred of courage and face the trails laid out before you.

Goddesses above. He’d thought he had helped. Instead, he’d cursed everything and everyone.

Link felt sick. He felt so, so sick. His words hung in the air, held heavily in place in the stillness and silence. The words were swept away, however, when he heard a strange sound from far beneath them, like mechanical whirring and large footsteps. Curious, he rose and looked down over the railing to see a giant robot with legs akin to a skulltulla, its head swiveling as it people stood around it. The princess stood and peeked over, eyes barely above the railing, and she smiled.

“That’s a guardian,” she said eagerly.

Link felt his blood run cold at the word, and he shook his head. Clearly, this was something different than that. “O-oh?”

“They were made long ago by the Sheikah,” Zellie explained. “They helped defeat the Calamity ten thousand years ago. We’re hoping to reutilize them.”

“They still work?” Link questioned, squinting at them and thinking of all the broken down robots in Lanayru. “Or are you using timeshift stones?”

Zellie whipped her had to look at him. “Timeshift stones? What are those?”

Apparently not. “They control time within a certain radius. It’s… how I got here, I think.”

The princess slid to the ground again to stay hidden from the rest of the world, her brow furrowed. “You came here using a timeshift stone?”

“It… was an accident,” Link offered feebly with a shrug as he sat beside her again. “I was in a mine full of them and there was an explosion.”

“You… you came here by accident?”

“Uh… yeah.” Now Link was starting to feel guilty. Had… had they all actually thought he and Zel had come here on purpose? What was their thought process with that?

We seek your care and protection and favors, And hope you grant them through your sages.

The prayer from the other night lingered in his mind once more, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Did… did they…?

Oh goddesses.

He shut that train of thought down so quickly he could practically hear the door slam closed in his mind. This was just an adventure. This was fine. He was fine.

You can’t avoid your own failure, a voice whispered that sounded annoyingly like Impa.

His thoughts weren’t wrong, though. What was he going to do? If he’d kept avoiding the matter on his own adventure, Zel would be dead, Demise would have won, the world would have ended.

Why hadn’t it been enough? Why hadn’t he been enough?

“I hadn’t planned on being here,” Link said quietly, refusing to make eye contact, dragging the words out of him. “But… I think maybe the goddesses had. To help you.”

The princess was quiet a moment before saying softly, “I suppose Link will appreciate the help.”

Link? He was Link. What?

Goddess. That knight. “His… his name is Link too?”

“Well, yes,” Zellie answered matter-of-factly. “Many boys are named Link because of you.”

Nope. This was getting to be too much again. Link rose abruptly, growing dizzy. Words left him, and he hummed when Zellie also shot to her feet and held a hesitant hand out to stabilize him.

I suppose Link will appreciate the help. Ha! As if someone who seemed so capable could possibly need a failure’s assistance. He had Fi now. Link wasn’t needed. He was replaced.

Well, of course you were, this is a bajillion years in the future, idiot, he thought. Then he sighed. It didn’t matter. Whether there was a Chosen Hero or not… he’d…

He’d failed. He’d failed.

“I… I think he’s down there with Her Grace.”

Glancing over the railing, he saw Zel and the knight looking at the guardian. Fi was strapped securely on the knight’s back as if she belonged there.

Because she did.

He’d gotten sick earlier just looking at him, just thinking about all the ways he��d gone wrong, all the ways he’d dumped his failures onto the knight’s shoulders. It was no wonder the knight acted as if he were the scum of the earth.

He was.

Link wanted nothing more than to jump down there and be with his wife. He wanted nothing more than to go home and pretend he hadn’t learned about any of this. But how could he possibly avoid the truth of the future he’d doomed?

I suppose Link will appreciate the help. No. No, he wouldn’t. There was no way Link could help this knight.

You’ve already failed before and still gotten back up, he reminded himself. You completely failed Zelda and still…

Still what? Succeeded? Triumphed? Clearly not.

Link just… needed to be alone. He needed to get away. He pointedly looked away from Zelda and the knight, looked away from the princess who was watching him, and turned on his heel, disappearing down the stairs and letting his feet take him anywhere, anywhere to get him out of there.

XXX

“Wow,” Hylia breathed as she looked at the guardian. “These things are incredible. And so big!”

Link watched her hesitantly, still trying to get his heart rate under control. Despite the goddess’ casual demeanor, he still wasn’t quite able to shake the fact that he was talking to a goddess. There had to be some kind of protocol he was completely messing up, but she hadn’t shown offense and had insisted on casual interaction.

Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure what she considered casual interaction, so it was best to just stay silent unless prompted. And even then… goddess. He didn’t know what to do.

Goddess! Maybe he shouldn’t invoke her while he was thinking about her.

This entire day had been one disaster after another. First he’d been so distracted he’d nearly gotten himself injured while sparring with Mipha, worrying his dearest friend, and then he’d run into the Hero and had somehow—well. He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

Running into Hylia herself had not been in the plans for the day. He’d just wanted to find Zelda and talk to her. He’d just needed someone to parse his thoughts and worries with.

Of course running into the princess while she was in bed with a man was how this day was going to go. The impropriety of it all—the one good thing was that the only witnesses seemed completely clueless that it was wrong. Not to mention, if Hylia casually talked about running into the princess in bed alongside her immortal spouse and her current Hero, no one would question anything about it.

That didn’t make it any less embarrassing, though. And he felt bad for Zelda, too. The girl worried so much about protocols and how she was perceived.

“So they helped defeat De—Calamity Ganon in the past?”

Link nodded. Again, he wondered how she didn’t know this. How she didn’t know anything. He didn’t dare question it, didn’t dare try to parse out how a goddess of time wasn’t aware of what had happened through the ages. That felt sacrilegious to even think about, let alone ask her. Despite how seemingly normal she was trying to act, how much he truly wanted to ask about it, he wouldn't dare.

He had planned on asking Zelda, though. But he supposed it was a moot point now.

Link stared at the goddess longer than he probably should have, but… her attire caught his attention. She’d been wearing it when she’d first appeared. It was just like the Hero’s, like the ancient traditional garb from the stories and tapestries. He wondered if the Hero’s attire was fashioned after her own, then, when she’d created him. It looked nothing like the statues, and it was far more practical.

It was a uniform. It was armor. He could see the chainmail. Hylia wasn’t just a gentle, benign goddess. She was a warrior. It was an aspect of her that he’d never really known or realized, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

If she’d been a warrior, too, why had she needed a Hero? Or was it ceremonial? Was she a goddess of knights and soldiers and he hadn’t known? Maybe that was why she didn’t know what was happening – maybe she wasn’t a goddess of time at all.

Somehow, imagining her as a goddess of knights made her more approachable than a goddess of time, but he had to remind himself that she was still a deity nonetheless. He shook his head subtly.

Hylia turned on her heel, a hand to her chin as she hummed thoughtfully. “Okay. So in the past the guardians, divine beasts, a hero and a princess defeated Ganon. They didn’t use the Triforce at all. But that still doesn’t fix the problem. He just keeps getting sealed away.”

Hylia narrowed her eyes at the ground, and her face grew stormy. Link swore he could feel the atmosphere chill at the sight of it.

“Damn that demon,” she swore softly. “Damn him.”

Link swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in place.

Hylia sighed, seeming to remember he was there. “Sorry. We… he just… it’s a lot to take in. I know that you’re looking to me for help. I’ll… we’ll figure it out.”

Figure it out? Did she not know what to do? Hylia herself didn’t know what to do?

Link had so many questions.

"I wonder if Fi still has any of him sealed away in the blade,” Hylia thought aloud, staring at Link. "Or... perhaps since she's drawn... that's the part of him that broke away?"

Fi? Was he supposed to know who that was? Link looked back at her, fear making his palms sweat, wondering if she was expecting a response. Great go—good grief, he sincerely missed the days when the pressure on him was just to fight and destroy, not to provide answers and information.

Hylia stared at him too long, and he felt his mouth go dry. Was he supposed to say something?

“You must be a very good knight,” Hylia commented. “You seem to take your duty very seriously.”

Link’s heart skipped a beat. He felt pride swell in him while simultaneously being crushed down by the expectations behind it. It was an honor, truly, but…

Hylia laughed suddenly, poking him so hard he nearly fell over. “But lighten up a little, Link! I understand this is serious business, but it doesn’t have to be all the time!”

Link gasped as he took a few steps back to catch himself. Hylia’s mirth faded, a worried expression crossing her face.

“There’s just… it’s scary,” she said softly. “And we have to focus and fix this and stuff. I get that. It was like that on my journey too. But… you can’t always be scared. You shouldn’t be. There was so much to enjoy when I was finding my path. I hope… I hope we can do the same, you know?”

“You’re scared?” the words spilled out of his mouth before he could catch them, and he knew, he knew he was going to die right there on the spot. What was he thinking, questioning a goddess—

“Yeah,” Hylia replied immediately. “Yeah, I am. I’m… sorry if that scares you too. But it’s true. I… we… we were supposed to protect you from this. I don’t understand why it didn’t work. Link beat him. I got my spirit back. We won.”

Got her spirit back? What did that mean? And…

Link stared at Hylia, watched her as she hugged herself and looked at the ground, on the verge of tears. She looked so alone.

He couldn’t not do something.

Reaching out, he put a hand on her shoulder, catching her attention, and said, “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Hylia held his gaze, and for the millionth time that day he felt like he was going to die on the spot. What the actual hell did I just say oh Golden Three above—

Hylia smiled, eyes shining, and she wrapped him in a tight hug. “Thanks. You’re right. We’ll figure it out.”

Link stood awkwardly in the hug, not really able to return it, but she was squeezing him so tightly he was fairly certainly he’d pop something out of joint if he tried to move anyway. It… felt good, actually.

Well… the goddess had initiated it. So it wasn’t bad, right?

Hylia let him go with a sigh. “I guess I should actually go talk to the princess now. I figure Link’s calmed her down, at least. Maybe you can talk to him?”

Link froze. Oh. Oh, no.

“Come on!” Hylia said with a laugh, dragging him out of the courtyard. “Let’s go find them.”

#I'm still eh about this #but I think it's because I can't fix their relationships in a chapter #and I just need to accept that #they're all stubborn blorbos #writing #breath of the sky #breath of the wild #skyward sword #breath of the wild link #breath of the wild zelda #botw link #botw zelda #skyward sword link #skyward sword zelda #ss link #ss zelda #abel watching hylia hold his son's hand knowing full well she claimed another hero named link in every way possible: *having a heart attack #champion: *also actively having multiple heart attacks*#he really is just Anxiety isn't he poor thing #I swear he has a personality good grief #but someone who is so scared that they actively just choose not to speak or emote in public has got some SERIOUS anxiety issues #just saying #at least zellie finally got her nickname #her and cloud will get along much easier than the links getting along with each other I think #and good old zel breaking the ice with champion #or trying to at least

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