#tw: brief mentioning of violence and rape

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      

Chapter 13 - Flashbacks. Episode 2.

Andy: *His voice was shaking as he went on* I tortured someone… a… a person… *he frowned and as he lowered his head, so he was no longer facing me, his sobbing turned into a silent almost choking crying. Coming so deep from inside of him it almost knocked the air out of me.* I understand if you can no longer be with me. The things I did to him.

Evan: *Things started making sense. There were often some form of torture on a show as Supernatural. I just couldn't understand why he hadn't reacted earlier? I wrapped my arms tight around him, drawing him close to my chest, holding him as tight as I could while still allowing him to breathe freely.* Andy… I'm not leaving. *I took a deep breath, caressing his back gently* Does Congo know?

Andy: *He nodded softly*

Evan: *I kissed the top of his head gently, feeling my heart pound heavily* Does George know?

Andy: *He nodded again*

Evan: Does anyone else know?

Andy: Only…. A…. he was…. with me.

Evan: *I took another deep breath. Of course he was! Andy wasn't a person that could come up with something like torture on his own. I kissed his mohawk and squeezed him extra tight a few seconds, and as I slowly loosened my arms enough for him to be able to breathe, I spoke to him in the softest voice possible* Andy… if they know, and they didn't leave, I can assure you I'm not going anywhere either. Please tell me. I need to know more now, only knowing the headline is just gonna eat me up. You don't have to go into too specific details, but you gotta explain this a little bit. Please. I promise you I am not going to leave you. Okay?

Andy: *He dug his fingers into my chest and started hyperventilating again* I can't…. I can't live without you!

Evan:* I looked up at the big windows at the first floor, Congo was sitting in the couch with a book. I didn't want to disturb him, but at this point I saw no other choice. I reached my hand down in my pocket, dialled his number, and watched him as he picked up his phone. Congo… I'm sorry, I know you are reading, but I could really use you down here in the garden right now. And please bring a hoodie for Andy. As I hung up I watched him quickly putting his book down, and disappear down the stairs, seconds later he came out from the tv room, with a hoodie in his hands, running fast towards us.*

Congo: *He looked concerned at me as he stopped in front of us* What's going on? *As he squatted down next to Andy, he gently wrapped the hoodie around Andy's shoulders caressing his back softly* What's going on my love? *Even if his question was directed towards Andy, he looked at me with worried eyes*

Evan: *I shook my head softly* Andy says he once tortured a person? And that you and George are aware of it?

Congo: *He frowned and sighed deeply*

Evan: *I sighed softly* I don't know what to tell you? We were watching Supernatural, and one of many torture scenes ran over the screen. Suddenly he ran out in the garden, and as I caught up with him he fainted.

Congo: *He sniffed his nose a bit* Do I smell vomit?

Evan: *I nodded briefly* Yeah… somewhere over there *I made a waving gesture with my hand in the direction of Andy's dinner.* So, is this true? Look, I'm not asking for all the explicit details, he already made it clear A was there, so I can only imagine what Andy felt he had to do to "impress" A. But I think I'm entitled to a little bit more than just the 'hey, I tortured someone' headline. Don't I?

Congo: *He frowned mildly and looked at me a bit hesitating before he grunted deeply and grabbed my chin softly* Evan, it's not my story, so not really up to me to share, and you already look like the headline knocked you over. But I don't want to deny it either. So please, look me in the eyes and tell me if you can handle it or not. And be honest. Are you going to run out of here once you hear some of the gory details? Cause that's not what Andy needs. Another person he loved to give up on him.

Evan: *I shook my head firmly* I'm not going anywhere. I already told Andy this a couple of times, and I stand by it.

Congo: *He smiled softly and pushed my chin gently with his big fist* Alright… let me just sit down here… we can share, right? *He nodded at Andy and sent me a warm smile*

Evan: *I looked at Andy, still hiding against me, softly kissing his mohawk* Sure…. we can share.

Congo: *He sat down next to me, and dragged Andy halfway over on his lap, so Andy's head was laying in Congo's lap, and his upper body and hips were placed in my lap. He nodded at me softly and started running his fingers through Andy's hair* Alright… Let me see if I remember this enough to give you a short resume…

Evan: *I feared the worst, but was determined I wouldn't leave Andy no matter what. And I placed my hands softly on Andy's back, caressing it with my thumbs, making sure he knew I was there as he continued his sobbing.*

Congo: *He took a deep breath* You do know the story about John, your old manager? How it turned out he was a vampire too, One of the extra bad ones, and how he had tried to control Andy for years, trying to make Andy his new pet… or son as he tried to put it. You do know John was the one who killed Andy's parents, right?

Evan: *I nodded softly and sighed. Yes, I knew, although I didn't like being reminded of that jackass the slightest. The pain he had caused Andy had been unbearable, and even after A had brought Andy's parents back to life, the pain had formed permanent scars on not only Andy's soul, but also his body. Literally.*

Congo: *He smiled apologizing as he understood I wasn't happy about hearing John mentioned* You also know John raped Andy then?

Evan: *I swallowed a knot in my throat and felt out of breath* Yes… I know…

Congo: *He padded my shoulder gently, and smiled even more apologizing* So far so good, I guess. I'm relieved I don't have to repeat all of that again. However, I'm expecting you don't know John over the past years had slowly been giving Andy some of his blood, without Andy being aware John was slowly trying to turn him.

Evan: *I rubbed my forehead as I felt a headache rise*

Congo: Yeah… *he grunted deeply* As a result when A… killed him… John never really died. He lived on in Andy's blood, where he slowly started coming back to life. And for months he was torturing Andy mentally. Breaking him down from inside Andy's mind. Making Andy believe he was useless and were to end his own life. When A finally figured out what was happening, John had almost gained completely control of Andy. Luckily A was able to subtract John from inside Andy, and put his… soul… inside an empty body. *He frowned deeply* I don't wanna know where that body came from. However… A trapped John in a basement, deep under the ground of his family home, and told Andy he was allowed to go see John, and try to relieve the anger he felt after John playing with his mind, almost destroying him. Andy agreed to seeing John, and as John was secured by chains around his wrists, attached to the ceiling, Andy was able to get very close to him. As John once again tried to get into Andy's mind. Andy reached out for the only defence he could find in that dark basement. Torture instruments A so cleverly had laid out on a table. Andy tortured John for about an hour before his mind broke, and A dragged him out of the basement. They left John as a bleeding, passed out, sad excuse for a person. He had even pissed himself during that hour, which only can mean horrible things must have been done to him. This was a man that lived of killing innocent people. And he pissed himself. *He rubbed his forehead and suddenly looked very tired as his eyes connected with mine* Andy, George and I decided to put Andy under hypnosis where George safely locked these memories away, so Andy wouldn't have to drag them around the rest of his life. Andy was in a very bad shape after what John put him through. So I don't think he can be blamed or held responsible for anything. But then again, if you abuse a dog and it ends up biting you, it's always somehow the dogs fault, right? He smiled softly and observed me for a while, before he wrapped an arm tight around my shoulder and pulled me closer so I automatically leaned my head against his shoulder* Are you okay there Evan?

Evan: *I sighed deeply* Yes…. as okay as I can be.

Andy: *He sniffled his nose and looked up at me with anxious eyes* I'm sorry… please don't leave me!

Evan: *I shook my head softly and placed a hand over his mouth* Shut up with that. I'm not going anywhere. I'm with Congo. You cant be blamed. You were tortured for months, and when you were put face to face with the person who caused you all this suffering, a weapon was even placed in your hands. No one can blame you for using it.

Andy: *He sobbed softly* But it was not just one weapon. It was multiple tools, and i picked them up myself. A didn't force me. I chose on my own. One of the tools were designed to rip strings of flesh out. To peel skin off slowly. I shoved it up his urinary tract and raped him with it. But not until after I had already raped his ass with it. Imagine what a tool like that can do to your soft insides. And when I puked from all the crap I was doing to him, I only stirred the tool around in the puke, to once again insert it and make sure my puke got into all his internal cuts. *He sobbed loudly and hid his face in his hands* How can you be with a person like that? How can any of you? I shouldn't even be loved! I deserve the same as I did to him!

Evan: *I shook my head strongly* Andy, that's bullshit! I do not agree with what you did, in fact I wanna tell you to never ever do such a thing again. But I can't judge you. Andy, he raped you, did you forget that? He killed your parents, simply because he wanted you for himself. If you ask me, that's a billion times more sick than what you did to him. I don't encourage or believe in revenge, but as Congo said, you were abused, no one can blame you for finally snapping an biting back! No one!

Congo: *He smiled softy and caressed my hair a bit, it felt weird, but also comforting, so I didn't say anything. His voice was firm but warm as he spoke again* Sweetheart, Evan promised both of us he is going to stay, and he is still here. Isn't that proof enough?

Andy: *He sniffled his nose* I'm scared he will change his mind and leave…

Congo: *Smiled softly at me as if he held a secret only him and I knew about* Andy… I'm pretty sure you are wrong. In fact I'm so sure that I would bet my life on it. *He winked at me, and suddenly it dawned on me*

Evan: *I panicked a bit as I nervously padded the pockets of the hoodie Andy had over him as a blanket. The pockets were empty. So I looked a bit questioning at Congo*

Congo: *He moved Andy around a bit, so he could get to stand up, and in the same moment lift Andy up, princess style, and as Andy sent out a soft whimpering protest, he shushed Andy softly* Shh… my love, it's cold out here, you aren't wearing any pants. We all need to get inside before we get a cold. The nights are still too chilly to lay on the ground half naked.

[chaoticisthemoon]

As a person who would LIKE men to get thier shit together nothing irks me.more than youtube videos titles shit like " prove toxic masculinity can't exist HA SUCK IT FEMINIST " or " desperate women regret feminist can't find man MGTOW WINS "

Not only are the titles written like they're trying to attract ten years old or think of grown as men as ten year old. They thrive off the angry and bitterness of the viewers watching them and would prefer the viewer don't grow up

Listen you don't have to like feminism but the Mra see you as mindless bodies that are controlled by your dicks who live in this devious world of them fucking evil females who trapped you with babies. You need jobs and wife and the job will be working 13 hr days coming home to a bitch you don't like and a child you hate . You can't r3pe your spouse cause that was an evil made up idea but after theb6 pack and fucking her while her head was between the washer and the wall you still don't feel better

You still don't feel better ....

Men DO deserve better but I can help you see that until you realize it is not within the system that being used to drug you into some.sense of normality

[gauloiseblue]

Medic!Reader × Poly!141

Part I | Part II | Part III

[TW: attempted rape, a little bit of violence]

A/N: I'm gonna highlight the TW part so you can scroll down to skip it

It'd be thrilling for you to be on your first mission, if not for the fact that Graves himself requested it

You have the ideas, but not getting the ideas on why at the same time

You could see why he recruited you to the field, but you're not among the best medic out there, you're just a new recruit so you're basically unqualified for such missions.

If his intention is to get into your pants, well… you won't know what to do

If he's the type who likes to chase women around, then it's easier for you to be the 'easy target' for him. But at the same time, you shudder at the possibility of having to sleep with him

On the flight to the field, you mull over the choices you have

"Johnny."

"Hm?"

"Would you be…. Would you…. Hm," Your face scrunched, "... No, that sounds wrong."

"Wha' is it? Spill it out."

"... Would you be my fake boyfriend for a while? Okay, let me explain first."

Still, he wears the bewildered face, even after you explain everything

"I don't mind, but is it really necessary?" He furrows his brows

"I know it doesn't make sense, but hear me out. You knew what kind of letters he sent to me, you said it yourself that he's getting bolder each day, and trust me when I said that I have known this kind of man my whole life. They won't stop until they get what they want."

"Seems like yer an asshole magnet." He chuckled, "On a serious note, don't ye think he'll get more aggressive after knowin' that you 've a 'boyfriend'?"

"You're right." You rub your face in frustration, "But I don't have a choice, I don't wanna sleep with him."

He thought for a second. "I'll see what I do." He then wraps his arm around your neck, tugging on you in a joking manner, "But don't you think I could misunderstand your request?"

"No, you're just not the type." You laugh, "Besides, I can't see anyone in the team who would be willing to help me, for this kind of stuff…"

"... Now tha' I think 'bout it, yer right."

Upon arrival, the soldier tells the team to move immediately to the base. You're only given 5 minutes to settle down before briefing

To say that the briefing is unpleasant… is an understatement

While the commander gives an introduction for the team, you feel an uncomfortable gaze on you

You don't have to guess it, because when you lift your head, you can see Graves' been eyeing you

It feels like an eternity before it's over

Even then, it's not really over. Because once the commander is done with his speech, Graves casually mentions that he need to talk to Price in private, while not looking away from you

Thankfully, Price dismissed you from accompanying him

Back at the new base, you notice that your room is quite separated from the rest of the team, and that Price's room is farthest away from you

The closest one from your quarter is Ghost, and you can't see yourself asking him for help

That is, until 3 days have passed, and you find two cockroaches under the bed

You scream and jump, and sprint out of the room

And somehow you bump into him in the hallway before you can even acknowledge who's there

(If you knew who it was, you'd rather stay in your room, even with those cockroaches)

He's slightly annoyed by the incident, but asks you what's wrong. You swallow your pride and tell him that you saw cockroaches

"You can just step on it."

"... I'm too afraid to do that."

Seems like your scream attracted more attention, as you saw Gaz and Soap getting out from their room as well, asking if something's up

Ghost gives him a brief explanation, making Soap laughs out loud

"Jeesus, I thought we were under attack or something."

"We should kill them then." Gaz suggested

"Don't kill them." You said

"What'd ye wanna do then? Lettin' them be and hopin' that they'll politely leave yer room?"

"No, just… put them outside or something."

"Ya think they won't come back again?"

While you're busy bickering with Soap, Ghost slips into your room and takes care of it. You only realize it when he comes back with 2 cockroaches dangling in his hand, still wiggling

You almost screamed the second time if you didn't immediately hide behind Gaz

"You still wanna let these things loose?"

"Yes—yes, put them outside—"

And he obeys it without question

Which is surprising, to say the least

While you're grateful that your problem was solved, it actually creates more problems in the future. Because Soap would literally chase you around with a cockroach in his hand (and you have no idea where he gets it)

He'll get scolded by either Price or Ghost though

Anyway, besides the bugs and hot weather, you get used to your new en pretty quickly, as well as your job

Treating minor wounds, talking to injured soldiers, writing and sorting documents, all the usual stuff

You already knew that it wouldn't be easy to treat soldiers in the active warzone, but your team clearly been spoiling you

Most of the soldiers would either scream in pain, or scream at you, and sometimes even both. You attempt to use "You can complain about it later when we finish." but it doesn't work

You could bear it for a few weeks, before you got fed up and straight up running your mouth

"Look, if you wanna get uneven stitches and unnecessary infections, you can keep going. Go on and stress me out, so I will fuck it up."

And when they're still mad at you, you hit them with "I'm gonna report all of your complaints to Captain Price, he's my superior after all. State your name and complain to me, I'll tell him myself."

You felt bad borrowing Price's name, but that's the only thing that made them shut up

Sometimes you hear them muttering "Price's whore" under their breath, but you could care less

You also help other medics when the soldiers straight up humiliate them, by saying that you'll send your report to Graves. It works wonder as well

That is, until the man itself shows up in front of your room when you're just about to call it a day

"I see you've been conducting your survey in the field for me. What was it again? The 'soldier's satisfaction on medic's service'?"

You're actually taken aback by it, but you kept your composure

"I just thought that it's best for the upper rank to hear their complaints, for a reason that they're the one who decides what's the best course of action for the medic."

He chuckles at your explanation, "You're smart, I like that." He then says, "But y'know, borrowing my name for it isn't very wise of you. I can just punish you for that, but I'll let it slide this time."

"Thank you sir, I won't do it again."

"Oh, no. Keep doing it." He put his hand on your shoulder, giving enough weight to emphasize his point, "But keep Price's name out of it. If they complain about you, you should tell them that I would like to request their presence immediately."

After your encounter with him, you feel a sense of dread inside your chest, as if you've been opening a pandora box

Because the next day, Graves decides to oversee the medics' work by himself

Not only that, he'd ask the soldier if they need anything more from the medic, as if he's doing an inspection

His presence gives everyone in the room a tension

One soldier quietly murmurs "This is a warzone, and not a whorehouse for God's sake."

You pretended you didn't hear him

The news about him reach to your own team, and Soap is the first one who confront you about it

"What were ya thinking? Using his name as if you knew him personally?"

"I had to, if not, they're gonna harass the other medics and slow us down."

"Did'ya even think about the consequences? Did it ever cross your mind?"

You want to object him, but you know he's right

"... Sorry, I didn't mean ta shout. It's just that," He presses his hand on his chin, "It's more serious than I thought. Graves wouldn't even bother checking his deputy."

"What should I do then? Should I just… go along with it or ignore him?"

"Don't ever think about ignoring him, it'll only make him excited."

"Then, if I go along with him…?"

"Don't do that either."

He proceeded to explain the probability of him using you for a selfish reason, and it's likely for him to keep you to himself via blackmail

"Okay, then what should I do exactly?"

"Let's see." He thought for a moment, "You could keep doing what you do… no, he'll just prolong your contract." He hummed, forehead creased, "... I think you have to have a rival."

His suggestion causes you to frown, "A rival? Where can I find her? Are there any girls who like him?"

"There's a lot, actually."

He starts to tell you a few names that have caught Graves' attention, from the korean soldier, to the senior in your work

"I don't know…" You bit your lip, "It seems wrong to use my own senior."

"Ye don't have a lot of choice." He shrugs, "They a'ready 've a feelin' for him anyway, ye just need to create the spark between them. Though it'll be hard for ya to do since ye rarely met her, moreover the two of 'em."

"... Okay, we'll see about that."

Several days have passed, and for the first time after your arrival that the fortune goddess smiles at you

You're on your way to Price's office when you spot a brunette girl talking with Graves, and you realize that she's one of the girls Soap talked about

For a split second, your brain decides to prepare a trap, which he falls into without struggle

You've known jealousy for half of your life, mainly from the men you've dated before, so it's easy for you to replicate

And it worked. He really thinks you are, and riles you up by pulling the girl close by her waist

He tugs a smile of satisfaction when you freeze, before passing them with your head down

You continued doing it for 3 to 4 times, while successfully avoiding him in the process. You begin to see him less and less, to the point that you're so sure you're free from him

Until you receive an invitation to a party, hosted by the suspected "businessman" in the neighboring country, delivered by Graves himself

"You're the perfect girl for this mission." He smirks, "It'll be a good time for us to be together, to make up for the time we've lost."

"Uh…." You stare at the invitation on his hand, unable to think, "I… don't think I'm the right person for it, sir. I'm just a medic, I haven't even completed my self-defense training yet."

"I certainly don't mind it if you become a damsel in distress." He teased, which irked you so badly, you almost broke your charade, "Trust me, I know you'll do a great job on it. You'll fit right in with the riches, just like me."

"Well, thank you for the compliment, but really, I'm not cut out of this job. I'm sure Gillian from the intelligent team is more suitable for it."

He let out a sigh, not even hiding the impatience in his breath, "So you'll deny the order from your superior?"

It's enough to shut you up immediately, and you reluctantly shake your head. "No, sir. I'm sorry."

"Good girl." He smiles at you, satisfied, "We'll depart by tomorrow morning, make sure you come on time."

Turns out, Gaz and Ghost are also on the mission. Gaz lights up when he sees you, although a little puzzled because you're not supposed to be on this kind of mission. You have no time to explain to him because Graves already pulls you to the cockpit, separating you with 2 other men

Fast forward, after the disastrous preparation and changing the dress at the last minute (because Graves picked up the most revealing dress that didn't suit you at all), you settle with a long slitted dress and simple makeup.

The party is decent, (you've been to bigger, more extravagant parties, that's why) there's champagne, free buffet, and a chatty host

Graves immediately approaches the man, exchanging greetings and all, while you stick to your role as an arm candy

Before the party, all the members got a briefing about their assignments. Graves would be the one who observes the situation and gives commands, Gaz would be the sniper and distraction so Ghost could sneak in to get the files and the man himself. You didn't get anything, so you assumed you're just an arm candy, until the man offered you a tour to his wine cellar, and you immediately knew that you're the bait

You don't like him one bit, and the fact that you're being used as bait makes you hate him more. He makes a lot of inappropriate jokes and touches, as well as a racist statement when Gaz is captured (he gets the news from the phone)

You try to grin and bear it, until he grabs your ass and presses himself against you. You struggle against him, and he doesn't take it too kindly as he punches your face with his fist full of rings

It hurts a lot that your ear is ringing from the impact. By the time you gain your senses, he's already on top of you, ripping your dress open

"Graves is a good friend of mine, he wouldn't mind if I play with his girls for a while."

You should've taken the self-defense class

It feels like eternity before you hear the door open, and a heavy step comes in. It takes around 3 seconds before the man collapses, with a small arrow on his back

You turn around to see Ghost with black tactical suit, and a different mask, which is just a plain black mask

You quickly cover yourself, fumbling with the remaining of your dress before you hear him calling your name. He calls you with a hushed tone, almost as if he's calling a wounded dog, which is quite accurate, since you don't realize you've been hyperventilating

"Look at me." He commanded, "Take a deep breath… and breathe out. Good, keep it going."

He asks you if you can stand up, and you slowly nod. But as you try to do so, the dress keeps slipping away from your body. Seeing you struggle, he decides to lend you his vest

"Cover yourself with it, and then we leave."

You and him leave the room, with the man on his shoulder, deep in slumber

Back at the makeshift base, they tie the man up on a chair

While Graves and Ghost take care of him, you go to the other room to take care of your swollen cheek. By the time you look in the mirror, it's already blooming red

You make a cold compress for your face, and you hiss at the sharp pain. You sit on the edge of the bed for a while, before you hear people walk in

"What's u— Oh no, what happened to your face?"

You look at Gaz, it seems like he escaped without hassle. "Nothing, just got punched by the package."

"Let me see… Damn, you got a cut."

"No wonder it stings."

He then helps you cleaning the wound, and when he pours the alcohol on the cotton, you stop him

"Let it be."

"Won't it get infected?"

"No, it's a shallow cut. See? The bleeding has stopped."

He chuckles, "I'll trust the medic then."

You both talk for a bit, before Ghost comes in

"We'll be leaving at dawn, make sure you get everything ready."

At dawn, as you and the crew enter the aircraft, you take a glance at the abandoned warehouse to see the man on the chair, unmoving. Graves seems to take notice of it, before he leans in and whispers, "Don't be sorry, he took it upon himself. He shouldn't have touched what's mine."

For a moment, you're filled with so much rage, that you forgot all of your play pretend. "I'm not an object you can play with, Graves." You retorted, words were filled with poison, "I'm not yours, and I will never be."

Which was a mistake, because the minute you said that, his eyes changed almost immediately. And you didn't like it at all

[sapphicmsmarvel]

the night courts justice

pairing: platonic!rhysand x reader

summary: rhysand learns your past traumas are more alike than he assumed.

Tw: MASSIVE trigger warning for r*pe being mentioned. Graphic, graphic violence. Feminine rage, unhinged female rage. Unhinged. 

Would like to preface: this is a work of fiction, uh, yeah. 

I know people write more detailed shit than I did however, I just wanted to give the violence disclaimer bc this is the most violent thing i've ever written (i usually just write fluff!)

Happy reading to my unhinged vengeful girlypops <3 

After you turned, you got bad. You had always struggled with depression, however the fae transformation increased that feeling. 

Rhysand noticed first because you were showing the signs that he did after under the mountain.

“You’re taking care of them, so they’ll be okay when you leave.”  He had approached you on the balcony.

You weren’t an idiot. “Sometimes, I do wonder what would happen if I just…” You waved your hands around. “Ceased.” 

“You wouldn’t see Feyre again.” His voice cracked. “She was what was keeping me from…ending it after I got back.” 

“I don’t know the extent of what happened to you.” You began, “but I can fill in the blanks.” 

“How so?” “From one rape victim to another, I can see the signs.” You simply stated.

It was silent and then, “Feyre found me that night.”  Your voice was a whisper in the wind.

He paused, he could feel the sorrow radiating off of you. You swallowed, “she found me abandoned in the woods, that’s where I was taken. At the time, we had no idea who it was, or where he was from. It was close to the wall. Hence how she found me. I had been there since the previous night. Missing for almost a whole day plus a night. She was hunting at night so people wouldn't get greedy when they saw her with prey. She brought me back to the cottage, her dad was asleep, Nesta woke up because I couldn’t get up the steps and she heard a bang.” You sucked in a deep breath, “I couldn’t get up the steps because….he had hurt me too badly.” He put a hand on your shoulder, he wasn’t one for physical affection like this with someone he barely knew, but he knew you needed it.

You didn’t push him away. 

“Fey and Nesta got me up the steps, it was the first time I had seen the two of them work as a team. They got me in the bath, cleaned up the blood that was staining my legs, my…everything.” 

He tried to keep his rage contained, however it was hard, you felt the air turn denser. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rhysand.” You laughed bitterly. “It’s over and done with.” 

“Do you want revenge?” 

You sighed, “Yes, which makes me terrible-”

“No it does not.” He hissed.

You shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” 

After a brief silence he asked, “You said, at the time. Who was it?” 

“He was from the Spring Court. Not Tamlin or Lucien. Or the guy that Fey killed. But now that I am here, and I have the heightened senses. I recognize the different courts, it’s the smell. He smelled like the Spring Court.” 

“Can I see what he looked like?” Rhysand asked. 

You nodded and let him into your mind.

-------------------------------------------------------

During the war, it had completely slipped your mind that you had told Rhys about these things. Or rather showed him the face. Feyre had come back and then you were off fighting a war. Not too much time to dwell on things. 

But, one day you were called to “the torture chamber” as you called it, however Azriel disapproved even though he also agreed. He just didn’t like how blunt you were about it. 

“What is this?” You asked. 

That’s when you could smell it. The smell of dandelions and dewy grass. The smell that had haunted your nightmares long before Hybern had. You saw him tied to a chair, beaten and bloody, his mouth had a gag stuffed in it. Azriel was behind him, Rhysand off to the side and Feyre was behind you, she had come with you. But based off the look on her face, she knew all along. 

“You can either kill him or I will.” 

“Doesn’t this look bad, High Lord?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow. “If this gets out…” 

“Oh it can, I don’t particularly care, let them know I don’t tolerate anyone being raped, let alone someone in my court. Let Tamlin come and try to defend this.” 

“He’s an asshole, but he never raped me.” Feyre walked up and put a sword in your hands. “Gut him like a fish.” 

You took the sword, ready. You looked at him as he wept. “Do you remember me?” 

Silence. 

You lifted his head with the tip of the sword, drawing blood that trickled down the metal. 

Gods, nothing has ever looked so fun. 

“I said, do you remember me?” You asked in an innocent voice. 

He shook his head, screaming around the gag. 

You widened your eyes, mockingly, “you know I screamed that night too.” 

HIs eyes widened, you didn’t know if he was recognizing your scent, or if he had done this to multiple people and he’s trying to figure out which one you were. “You went across the wall, found an innocent sixteen year old girl. A child. You took me out there and you raped me. And then at the end, when I was crying into the dirt, begging for the Mother to put me to sleep so I would stop hurting; do you remember what you said?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer, so you shoved the blade in deeper, causing a bigger waterfall the color of revenge to cascade down the blade. “I asked a question.”

He shook his head. 

You let a cruel smile slip. “You said that with the way I was acting, I had it coming.” You laughed and his eyes widened. “And now, you’ll see what you’ve had coming all these years.” 

With that you moved the sword. He let out a breath, but then saw you go to the table and grab pliers. 

“How many people?” You asked starting with his finger, that’s when you saw the wedding ring. You laughed coldly. “What poor person did you trap?” 

He glared, you smiled and took the pliers and pulled off a fingernail. He screamed around his gag and it was music to you. “I ask again, how many?” 

He kept screaming, so you kept pulling. 

Once you started on the other hand, that’s when he stopped screaming and began nodding. “You’ll tell me?” You asked. 

He nodded so you removed the gag. “Nine.” 

You let out a laugh through your nose. Not a genuine one of course, but one that showed you were about to become even more angry. “Do you remember their faces?” 

He nodded and you looked at Rhysand, “if you’d ever be so kind. I want to pay them a visit.” 

To let them know their monster is dead, and he did not die a slow death. 

Rhysand nodded to let you know, he intruded the male's mind and then left the room with Feyre. 

He would show her their faces, she would draw from memory. Then you would find them to give them peace that he was dead. 

Only Azriel was left in the cell.

Then you smiled again, a twisted and evil one, “and now our fun begins.” 

That’s when you smelled the urine. 

And your smile grew bigger. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The male was later found staked to a rock by the wall. An ice pick through his forehead and his hands, pinning him to the old stone. The word “rapist” was carved into his naked chest. All fingers were broken and nine teeth were pulled out of his mouth. 

Then a letter was sent to eight houses, explaining that their monster was dead and if they chose to, they could see what became of him by going to a certain spot. 

All eight showed up. 

Well nine but no one could see her. No one could see her or the High Lord of Night Court watching. 

“You feel better?” 

You sighed, “murder is bad, however I can rest easy knowing he’s dead.” 

“Yeah, you definitely know he is.” 

You snorted, “I may have had a bit of fun.”

“He definitely deserved it, the thing with his penis though was twisted.” 

You laughed outright at that. “That was Azriel’s touch.” 

Rhysand shuddered, “once again the guy deserved it, but Gods, you filet’d that thing.” 

“They’ll find it in the autopsy.” You shrugged, sipping your hot chocolate, that fought off the cold Sunday morning. 

He lifted his cup over for a cheers and you clinked, and both of you took a sip. “We’re fucked in the head aren’t we?” You said. 

He nodded, “Oh we definitely are. At least we’re surrounded by other fucked individuals.” 

“Cheers to that.” 

And once again you clinked mugs. 

-------------------------------------------

The next day you were called into the Feyre and Rhysand’s office, part of you wondered if it meant that the mortals had connected the murder of the Night Court and now you’d have to pay for what you’d done. 

But when you walked in, Feyre was smiling genuinely. 

Rhysand gave her a loving look, “could you at least pretend it’s something bad just to mess with her?” He drawled teasingly. 

“She’s my best friend, she’d know I was lying.” Feyre responded as if Rhysand was dumb. 

Could confirm, you would know. 

“I thought I was your best friend.” Rhysand put a hand to his chest as if he was offended but you both could tell he was not. 

You and Feyre shared a look and rolled your eyes in unison. 

“Can I just know what’s going on?” You asked. 

“We want you to be the Night Court’s Justice.” “...Isn’t that what Azriel is for?” 

“Azriel is for collecting information on enemies. You will basically be an assassin for us.” Rhysand explained. “If you so desire.” 

“Who would I go after?” 

“Anybody that poses a threat to my family.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Someone hurts anyone, including you. Then you have our full permission to slit their throats.” He said. “Obviously, we’d give you assignments. When you don’t have assignments you’d be working alongside Azriel.”

You nodded and then went, “fuck it. Okay.” 

“You don’t want to think about it?” Feyre asked. 

“If I’m taking out people that are like the bastard I just killed, then I will do it. Rapists deserve nothing else.” 

Rhysand smirked, “welcome to the court.”

[spencerreidswhore187]

Checkmate (Part One)

By @spencerreidswhore187 for @sackofpissandshit

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: Spencer finds out that reader is not who he thought they were. (Lots of angst)

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Unsub (g!n) Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

TW: Death, violence, brief mentions of kidnapping, rape, alcohol/substance abuse and guns.

A/N: Hi! This is my first Spencer Reid fanfic and I’ve also not proof read it so please don’t judge if it’s not very good. It’s inspired/named after the song Checkmate by Conan Gray and influenced a little by the film Mr and Mrs Smith.

“I’m sorry Reid,” Emily whispered. When the team found out, they had to draw straws in order to decide who’d be the one to tell Spencer. Penelope had tears in her eyes and Emily chewed her nails down to the finger. None of them wanted to be the one to break his heart, not after Meave.

Spencer had experienced heartbreak before but not like this. Whereas before, when he watched the girl he loved get shot, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. It hurt him so much, like a physical wound. But now? His heart was fine and, yet, it were as if the rest of his organs had shut down. He couldn’t feel anything. He was floating. He could see Emily’s lips moving but all he could hear was your voice, playing over and over and over again in his head.

Spencer remembered the day he told you that he loved you as though it was yesterday. It was late at night, stars splattered across the midnight sky; your legs were draped over his as you lay stretched across Spencer’s sofa. You both had spent the day binging the Star Wars franchise for what was probably the a hundredth (in release order, much to Spencer’s dismay.) You’d looked so beautiful with the crimson and azure lights reflected from the lightsabers on the TV dancing across your skin.

Your mouth was full of pistachio ice cream when the words slipped out, “I love you.” Spencer recalled the way your eyes widened - as if no one had ever said those words to you before. “I love you y/n. I love you, I love you, I love you.” Your lips stretched into a soft smile.

“I love you, too, Spence. More than anything, never forget that.”

Spencer would have sacrificed anything to go back to that moment: every IQ point, every novel in his possession, his role in the FBI. But no matter what happened, Spencer could not turn back time. He could not return to a time before he knew you were a killer.

—————————————————————

“He’s a fucking FBI agent.” Ben spat.

“No he’s not,” you protested, “he’s a surgeon.”

It’s why he had so many spontaneous shifts, why he’d suddenly have to leave in the middle of the night or during a date, it’s why he’d sometimes be gone for long periods of time.

You hated the way Ben laughed at you. You hated Ben. Full stop.

“How can you be so ignorant y/n. You are so god damn naive.”

“He’s a doctor. I swear.” Spencer wouldn’t lie to you. He’d promised you, the night he said he loved you, that he would never lie to you.

Ben slung an arm around your neck and pulled you into him, overwhelming you with the vile scent of alcohol and piss.

“Then fucking explain this,” he grinned, showing you a photo of your boyfriend. You lurched forward as you read the headline of the article: ‘Dr Spencer Reid of Quantico’s Behaviour Analysis Unit’.

It hurt. So much. This betrayal consumed you. You shoved your boss off of you and vomited. You could hear Ben’s laugh reverberating off the grim walls of the basement you were in as he stumbled away.

You scrubbed at your lips, trying to rid yourself of taste.

Your boyfriend, your best friend, worked for the FBI. And you were a killer.

You were eight years old when it happened, they’d grabbed you off the street as you were walking home from school. The police would have found you if they’d looked. Then men go took you did not wear masks, nor did they bother disguising themselves or the van they tied you up in the back of. It had taken your parents four days to realise you were gone. It had taken the police two hours before they gave up searching. No one had cared enough to find the little lost child. No one had ever cared about you, until Spencer.

You learnt quickly that the only way to survive was to do what they say. Deal drugs, steal, you didn’t care. You would do anything to live. And these men exploited that. They manipulated you. They corrupted you. They were the first people you killed. You slept better than ever that night, in an abandoned alley. Alone. Free.

That’s where Ben had found you. Ben, the leader of a minor gang, paid you to go after those who’d wronged him. The people who broke his rules - rapists, pedophiles, murderers. You enjoyed being a vigilante at first. But soon you learnt you could hurt them in way worse than death…Ben agreed with you.

You would frame them for crimes, rob them, plant drugs in their possession. You would stand from the sidelines at watch their lives collapse.

And now it was your turn. This was a strange sense of Karma.

You and Spencer played a game of Chess every night before you went to sleep. You were waiting for him to come home as you slipped a vail of hemlock into his drink and placed the glass next to the board. Staring at pieces, you heard the front door open.

“Checkmate,” you whispered.

—————————————————————

Spencer pressed his loaded gun firmly behind his back, breathing heavily as he climbed the stairs to the bedroom. He knew what would be waiting for him, the same thing that awaits him every evening when he returns from work.

You were sat crossed legged in your chair, leaning over the chess board analysing the pieces. You’d been playing this game for the last three weeks - both of you always managed to escape being checked.

You had a glass of water in hand and there was a glass for him next to his seat. Neither of you drank alcohol. Spencer had been sober since his drug addiction and you refused to drink after he told you that he was ten years sober. It was things like that, the small things you did, that made Spencer believe you were gentle and kind. He chided himself for being so stupid.

You looked up grinning at Spencer who was leaning against the doorway. He loved that smile. He hated himself for still loving it.

“Hey Spence.”

How could you be so glib when your hands are covered in the blood of innocents?

“Hi y/n,” he said, fist tightening around the gun.

“How was work? I saw or the news there was crash near the hospital. Did many people get-” you were interrupted by the sound of a gun cocking.

You abruptly stood up and stumbled away from Spencer.

“W-what are you doing.” You tried your best to sound scared when he pointed the gun at you.

“What do you think I’m doing? You are a criminal. You are a fucking murder!” Spencer did not feel guilty when you flinched.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Baby, please, I’ve never heart anyone. Please put the gun down and we can talk.”

Spencer had never noticed your tell before but it was clearer than ever, now. You chewed on the corner of your lip. This was all the confirmation he needed.

He would not be played like a pawn.

“Cut the act, y/n.” You searched his eyes but they were void of any emotion. Her loving Spencer was gone. Dead.

“What act?”

“You know what bloody act. No more games.”

Fine. You couldn’t help but think that things were finally getting fun.

“You’re not going to shoot me, Spencer, you’re an FBI agent. You have a code of conduct. You have morals.” You mocked, disdain evident in your words. “That’s right, isn’t it? You have doctorates but you are not an actual doctor. What you are is a fucking liar.”

That was the first time you’d ever called him Spencer. It had always been ‘Spence’. The facade was truly gone and he felt wretched.

How could you use him like that?

He walked towards you, pressing the barrel of his gun against your temple, forcing you to walk backwards until you hit the wall.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” you repeated.

And you were right. Despite Emily telling him to shoot if necessary, Spencer could not bring himself to do it. He was better than you. He had to be better than you.

“Yes I am,” he whispered.

He was not surprised when he felt the cold metal of a blade kiss his neck. Spencer had walked into your trap.

He was surprised, however, when a lone tear slipped down your cheek. His fingers itched to brush it away.

You looked up at him, “did it mean nothing to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This. All of it. You knew who I was…what I was the whole time and still you made me love you. You made me believe that you actually loved me.”

This was perhaps the first time Dr Spencer Reid had ever been confused.

“I-what?”

“Why did you have to make me love you?” You breathed.

“Y/N. I don’t understand.”

“You lied about being a doctor. You were undercover. You orchestrated this entire relationship just so you could arrest me. I want to, no, I need to know why.”

“That’s not true. I lied to protect you. My job gets people hurt, it gets people killed!” Spencer cried, “I lied to protect you!”

You pulled your knife away from his neck.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“You have a gun aimed at my fucking head!”

Spencer dropped the gun and kicked it away from the two of you. You were so close that your noses kept brushing with every movement.

He inhaled sharply, “how many people have you killed?”

“I-none.”

“Margaret Sheppard, Claire Daugherty, Travis Smith, Lance Chen and Aidan Keith. Do those names ring any bells?” Spencer pressed into you, his long fingers curled around your upper arms.

Spencer tried not to think of the nights of the murders, the ones you spent as a knot of limbs - not knowing where one of you began and the other ended. He tried not to think of the way you would gasp or how, afterwards, you would pull him to you, leaning your forehead against his, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. The betrayal was the most painful thing Spencer had ever experienced.

“I did not kill any of them. I didn’t,” you protested.

“So explain to me how they all ended up dead within days of each other. Their necks slit and an ‘x’ cut into their wrists?”

“Spencer, I promise you, I did not kill any of those people.”

“It’s your MO y/n. We know it was you.” Or, he thought he did. You weren’t chewing your lip. “You’re telling me that you have never killed anyone?”

“That’s not-”

“Don’t lie to me!” He shouted, slamming his hand against the wall. “Please. Please just tell me the truth.”

“I have killed people before. I have killed to survive. I have killed because I had to. I have killed because I wanted to. I have killed for fun. But I have not murdered anyone in the last three years. I have not taken a single life since the day I met you!”

Spencer couldn’t breathe.

You continued, “Margaret Sheppard drowned her newborn baby because it was crying too loud. Daugherty ran a sex trafficking ring, Smith and Chen took turns raping their 15 year old daughters. Aidan Keith beat his wife black and blue. They are…were…rich. They were going to get away with it. I did what I was told to, I made them stop.

“I stole millions of dollars from Sheppard. She had no choice but to claim bankruptcy. I helped every single girl escape Claire Daugherty before I put her in a coma. I planted very incriminating evidence on Travis Smith and Lance Chen - evidence that landed them both a life sentence in a high security prison. And Keith? I wanted to kill him. He was one of the men who kidnapped me when I was a child, but I didn’t. I saved him for last. I destroyed what mattered most to him: his reputation.

“I lied and I stole and I hurt but I did not kill any of them. I would not have done anything that would have risked my relationship with you, Spencer.”

He pulled away from you and started pacing around the room. You stood frozen as he reached for his drink.

I have killed to survive. Those words were replaying in his head (curse his eidetic memory). He wanted to know what you meant. He needed to know. What did you mean by one of the men who kidnapped me? Neither Emily or Rossi had told Spencer any of this. None of the BAU had. He mentally went through all of the cold case kidnappings from around eighteen years ago in the area but none stuck out. Were you lying? Was this some elaborate trick? A trap? His head was spinning.

Spencer reached for the untouched glass of water next to the chess board and took a sip.

You lurched foreword and pulled the cup out of his hand, throwing it against the wall. Tiny fragments of glass flew around the room as it shattered, water staining the wall.

It all made sense to Spencer, in that moment, as his eyelids grew heavy, you had poisoned the drink. That was why you had kept glancing at the glass. But, if you wanted to kill him, why did you stop him from drinking more? Why did you break the glass? The last thing he did before the world went dark was whisper “I love you.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Part two soon ◡̈

[aikoiya]

LoZ: TotK - Meeting One's Match (Overall Story Summary) Part 1

TW: Mentions of past rape & child enslavement (though, it's only mentioned as past trauma & is acknowledged as disgusting); panic attack; mention of death of loved ones, multiple, both canon & non-canon; mentions of child abandonment; brief sexual intercourse, but it's between 2 consenting adults; mention of pegging & strap-on use; mention of concubines, both male & female; mild violence; intrusive thoughts & pseudo-possession; mentions of kinks, but really only mentions; mentioned child sacrifice & implied torture of a minor, very bad, horrible stuff; possible others that I can't think of off the top of my head rn.

Just because they are in the story does not mean that I condone it.

And, I am very open to criticism so long as it is constructive in nature & presented politely. In fact, I encourage it!

Also, very long post.

Before reading, I'd recommend going here first: Nemma Masamuna Profile & Personality

MOM Part 1 & MOM Part 2.

And, for the rest of my Meeting One's Match stuff, go to my LoZ My Fanfic Masterlist.

---

This is Masamuna Nanema (正むナ凪音真), typically referred to as Nemma or Nema (音真, sound of truth), my Sheikah Fem!OC.

She is the most powerful woman in all of Hyrule. At least, based on pure skill, strategy, & martial prowess. She could likely even take on both Sonia & Zelda given enough time.

For what Nemma wears throughout the story, look at Nemma's Attire.

Her paternal grandfather was a Sheikah blacksmith, her paternal grandmother was an ex-Sheikah warrior who retired & opened a little restaurant, her father a member of the Royal Guard, her mother was a half-Sheikah/half-Hylian warrior, & her maternal grandmother was a Hylian. Which is where her eye color comes from as most Sheikah tend to have brown, gray, or black eyes naturally.

Her grandfather, unfortunately, died 2 years before the beginning of this story. However, Nemma's grandmother, Ayamay, is still very much alive.

She is the most powerful woman in all of Hyrule. At least, based on pure skill, strategy, & martial prowess. She could likely even take on both Sonia & Zelda given enough time.

For what Nemma wears throughout the story, look at Nemma's Attire.

Her paternal grandfather was a Sheikah blacksmith, her paternal grandmother was an ex-Sheikah warrior who retired & opened a little restaurant, her father a member of the Royal Guard, her mother was a half-Sheikah/half-Hylian warrior, & her maternal grandmother was Hylian. Which is where her eye color comes from as most Sheikah tend to have brown, gray, or black eyes naturally.

Her grandfather, unfortunately, died 2 years before the beginning of this story. However, Nemma's grandmother, Ayamay, is still very much alive.

After Nemma was born & it was revealed that she was a girl, her father had left to be a guard to King Rauru & her mother had left her not long after. So, she was raised by her grandparents. Her father, Masashai, still came back occasionally, but it was obvious that he'd wanted a son as he did not show much fatherly interest in her. However, she never saw her mother again.

Nemma was mostly raised by her grandparents; her grandfather, Takka, having taught her the ins & outs of blacksmithing. While his wife, her grandmother, Ayamay, taught her all she knew about cooking & toxins.

She comes from a long, ancient line of Sheikah blacksmiths, their techniques passed down over thousands of years, & this is a very important part of her identity. Her grandfather, Takka, having been one himself & taught her everything he knew about the craft. He has since died 2 years before the start of the story due to lung cancer as a result of improper safety when handling the forge. (His skin was actually blue due to working with iron so much without proper safety gear. It's due to this that Nemma is diligent in using protective gear.)

She is a smithing prodigy & while she is able to make damn near anything that can be forged from metal, what she's most interested in is weaponsmithing, specifically bladesmithing. Part of the reason being that it's at the intersection of most of her interests. The primary ones being blacksmithing & being a Sheikah warrior. Thus any weapon she makes does not degrade with use as she always makes sure to keep them well-maintained & sharpened. She also always has Advanced Rocktorok Wax on her at all times which automatically restores her weapon if it breaks. Just in case.

She dreams of creating a series of weapons that fully harnesses the power of the elements. Which is partly why she's become so interested in the Gerudo style of magical gemstone infusion or Zennō.

Anyway, the Toketa Hōseki Shita-Kitae (Molten Gem-Folding) & Kaijū-Hone Yakin (Monster-Bone Metallurgy) techniques are ones that she created herself, being 2 separate, but connected attempts of hers to do so. The Hōseki Shita-Kitae being an evolution of the Hachi Shita-Kitae (Eight-Folding) technique, which has been passed down among Sheikah blacksmiths for several thousands of generations.

The elemental weapons series from BotW (Flamespear, Flameblade, Great Flameblade, Thunderspear, Thunderblade, Great Thunderblade, Frostspear, Frostblade, & Great Frostblade) were actually inspired by her work. Though, she had never taught anyone her techniques during her original time period, so the series was more so an attempt to replicate her techniques.

More than anything though, she wants a husband who can, if not outright beat her, then at least match her as a warrior.

Despite her seemingly masculine interests, beyond that, she's actually considered to be an almost perfect image of Yamato Nadeshiko (大和撫子, the personification of the idealized Sheikah woman, meaning "the epitome of pure, feminine beauty"; poised, decorous, kind, gentle, graceful, humble, patient, virtuous, respectful, benevolent, honest, charitable, faithful, intelligent, & most of all, dangerous) by her own people's estimates, & actually wants to be a wife & mother very badly. Furthermore, upon becoming one, she plans to focus mostly on her family, specifically her children, while still maintaining her skills as a warrior. Is quietly eager to teach them their family & tribe's traditions. Cannot wait to bond with them through activities such as cooking & hunting like she did with her grandparents. They hold some of her fondest memories.

I know that we've been hearing the term "strong, independent woman" a lot lately, but the thing about Nemma is that not only is she legitimately strong & truly independent, but she feels zero need to tell people this. She is thus not due to herself declaring herself as such, but because she displays such qualities outward. Not to mention, she also 100% appreciates the work that men do & values them for that work, which is why she wants to be a wife & mother someday.

She wants to take on that spouse & caregiver role.

Though, sometimes, Nemma wonders in the back of her mind if she's accidentally backed herself into a corner by training so hard, because she wants a strong man, but due to having trained so much, so hard, for so long in order to prove that she didn't need her father's approval, she's afraid that she's become too strong to find a man who could protect her.

Because even though she's more than capable of protecting herself right now, she also knows that she can't do that forever. Especially not if she plans to carry children.

Other than that, she's just become so bored with Kakariko. There have been several attempts by Sheikah men for her hand, civilian & warrior alike, but none of them could even come close to meeting her expectations. Even quite a few Hylian & Ovelian men had tried their hand, but none measured up. This results in her worrying if her expectations might be too high.In her spare time, she plays a Shinobue (篠笛) to relax. A Shinobue being a horizontally-held Sheikah-style bamboo flute. She is actually pretty dang good.

— Undefined Parts of the Story & Other Little Details That Would Likely Show Up In The Story, But I Don't Know Where To Put:

Though, sometimes, Nemma wonders in the back of her mind if she's accidentally backed herself into a corner by training so hard, because she wants a strong man, but due to having trained so much, so hard, for so long in order to prove that she didn't need her father's approval, she's afraid that she's become too strong to find a man who could protect her.

Because even though she's more than capable of protecting herself right now, she also knows that she can't do that forever. Especially not if she plans to carry children.

Other than that, she's just become so bored with Kakariko. There have been several attempts by Sheikah men for her hand, civilian & warrior alike, but none of them could even come close to meeting her expectations. Even quite a few Hylian & Ovelian men had tried their hand, but none measured up. This results in her worrying if her expectations might be too high.

Nemma will probably end up having beef with Zelda. Not on a personal level, more so just due to what she represents. Nemma just doesn’t trust technology that’s too advanced & honestly sees the way the Zonai & the future Sheikah’s tech uses magic in a similar way to how many view heavily processed American cheese. She believes that there should be a more defined balance between progress, technology, nature, & tradition.

Believes that weapons should remain manual, so she’d be horrified by the Guardians & the Divine Beasts & would likely see how Calamity Ganon managed to turn them against Hyrule as validation of her distrust of them.

The Sheikah Slate would grind her gears a bit, due to its use of automatic sealing magic, but not to nearly the same degree as other things.

She wouldn’t really mind the Purah Pad though, as it appears to be mostly for navigation, picture-taking, & cataloging. Though, she’d mind it even less if it had more icon options & a way for her to apply personalized notes to those icons. Like, you have to tap on the icons to get those notes. (Would likely still prefer Pictoboxes, though, considering they can instantly produce pictures while the Sheikah Slate & Purah Pad seem to need an entirely different machine to do so. I mean, if Pictoboxes still existed. Knowledge of them, let alone their creation methods, seems to have been lost.)

Surprisingly, sees the teleportation function as quite useful in case of emergencies, but also sees how ready access to such would likely cause overreliance & laziness.

Another reason why Nemma doesn’t trust the Zonai or Sheikah tech is how… frankly unreliably disposable they tend to be.

Moving on, on the day she left Kakariko, she cut off her hair at the nape. In Sheikah custom, this had 2 symbolic meanings depending on the context. When someone else does this to them, specifically a higher-ranked Sheikah, it symbolizes that the one getting their hair cut is dishonored & has shamed both themselves, their family, & the Sheikah as a whole. However, if a Sheikah does this to themselves, it is a symbol of cutting off ties with the Royal Family & becoming a Ronan.

The reason being that in the old days, long hair was considered a symbol of loyalty to one's king. (This is inspired by Japanese custom & tradition. At least, as far as I've learned of it.)

Her hair has since regrown itself down to her shoulders, but the fact that her hair is as short as it is, would mark her back then as an outcast amongst the Sheikah of her time.

She's still growing it out more, possibly to ass-length, but the ends of her hair will likely always have that straight-edged cut when let down.

She didn't do this due to having anything personally against the Royal Family themselves. More so, she did not wish to be anyone's puppet.

Though, she admits that it's possible that her father's rejection of her in favor of spending 97% of his time in service of the Royal Family may have influenced her somewhat minor dislike of them.

She actually used to dislike them a lot more before her kidnapping as a child, as learning that Rauru sent people to rescue her smoothed over a lot of her dislike of them.

As a side-note: She has a surprisingly dry, deadpan wit that will sometimes leave Ganondorf in stitches. It's a rare occurrence, so when it happens, it tends to come as a shock.

Also, despite how stoic Nemma normally is, she's actually very expressive with her hands & arms. As a result, when she's around people that she doesn't trust, she tends to keep her arms folded over her chest, or by her sides, or hands planted on her hips, or folded together behind her back in order to keep them still.

But with someone she trusts, she uses her hands to gesticulate. Part of the reason being due to her fluency in Shadow Hand Speak (SHS). It's not an official Hyrulean sign language, nor do many even know about it to begin with, being mostly used by Sheikah & sometimes Yiga as a means to communicate with each other quietly on stealth missions.

She doesn't always use SHS when speaking, but almost out of habit, it feels unnatural to talk & not have her hands doing something. So, she still unconsciously uses her hands to get her meanings across or for emphasis.

It's just a bit of a quirky thing she does around those she trusts with her life. And one she honestly finds a bit embarrassing.

Ganondorf thinks it's effing cute. Sometimes, he tunes her out to see if he can figure out what she's saying just by watching her hand gestures. Which sometimes gets him in trouble when Nemma realizes that he isn't listening.

It annoys her a little bit when he does it, though she can never be 100% sure that he isn't listening because he always seems able to respond as if he had been.

Also, whenever out & discussing business or sensitive information, she tends to fold her hands over her mouth in a natural position to dissuade lip-readers. Likewise, she too can read lips.

Nemma also has a teeny tiny bit of a mischievous streak in her. It doesn't show itself often or explicitly, but it does show.

Specifically, when Ganondorf doesn't know she's entered the room.

In such situations, she'll sometimes pad up to him using her stealth training & wait till he notices her, then not react when he jerks in surprise.

Sometimes, she'll even shadow him playfully, making him slightly paranoid about being watched before suddenly letting him see her.

It frustrates him slightly, but he also can't find it in himself to hate it as he quite likes the playful light in Nemma's eyes & the slight uptick at the corner of her lips.

At most, he'll roll his eyes at her uncharacteristic impishness & maybe grumble slightly.

Though, he also takes it as clearance to mess with her as well.

---

Nemma will likely be invited to help the Gerudo huntresses catch a Cobra Shark at some point. Cobra Sharks are basically sandy-colored sharks (resembling Zebra Sharks, but with stripes instead of spots) with no eyes, & an enzyme in its saliva that can cause terrible infection when bitten, thus giving it its name. They live in the loose, flowing sands around the desert. The best method for killing them is luring them to the surface & stabbing them with spears. However, they’re also very vindictive & can jump onto the more solid sand & follow you for a decent distance before they inevitably become sitting ducks.

---

Whenever Nemma is hired for an assassination, she always hides her face behind a Mask of Truth.

She enjoys her anonymity as it allows her to go about her day without worry.

Her policy is that she must be paid half up front & half after. She finds that this makes it so she guarantees she'll be paid, while ensuring her client that she will provide. In a lot of ways, she is much like Shelly de Killer from Ace Attorney in the way she operates.

She has very few lines that she will not cross & those lines are always made 100% clear to her clients.

She will not in any way harm a child.

She will not be complicit in slavery or any form of sexual abuse.

If, at any point, she finds that her client has violated any of these rules or has lied about such, she reserves the right to make them her next target.

And if they are in any way connected to a group or organization that participates in such activities, even unknowingly, don't be surprised if the members of said group begins to mysteriously disappear over time.

Nemma has exactly zero qualms with killing if she views it as necessary so long as it isn't kids. That is her one line.

Slavers, rapists, kid killers, & pedophiles are at the top of her list of people to kill immediately. They are not people to her. They are what amounts to a dangerously invasive species of animal that are directly harming the ecosystem & need to be hunted down like rabid dogs. Pests to be exterminated. A blight upon the land that she would wipe clean with her own hands. Living, breathing targets. Prey. If she ever meets anyone with such sinful habits, don't expect them to be an issue for long.

Absolutely revels in causing such individuals inordinate amounts of pain before eventually killing them. Especially those who have actually acted upon those desires. She's actually done some pretty damn heinous things to people like that, though she feels no shame or guilt for such.

The reason she bears such virulent hatred of these individuals is partly due to having been kidnapped by slavers as a young girl. She'd been... It doesn't matter. Her first kill had actually been one of those same slavers, which had resulted in severe punishment. She had only been there a week when her grandparents, several Sheikah men, & a group of Royal Soldiers, including her father, had come to save her as well as the other slaves.

You see, while slavery hadn't been legal in Hyrule even before the Zonai came, that didn't stop some very sick-headed individuals from getting their jollies off on exerting power over others. As such, the Hyrule Royal Family had been on a campaign to fully end it since Hyrule's known inception. It's one of the few things that she agrees with the Hyrule Royal Family about.

And, it turns out that, while yes, Masashai did come to help save her, he'd actually been ordered by Rauru to aid the group that had been planning to raid the slavers' base.

And, while he did show momentary concern, sympathy, & even pity for his daughter, it didn't seem to be enough to change his neglectful ways towards her.

That was when Nemma realized that she'd never be enough for him & just entirely stopped trying. Even stopped writing to him altogether.

She became absolutely determined to prove to him that she didn't need him or his approval in any way. That she'd become a great warrior without him.

Though Nemma doesn't know it, while Masashai hadn't ever opened any of her letters or even replied, that didn't mean that he just threw them away. Though, he had actually begun to burn her first couple of letters, thinking it best to cut her out of his life so that he could focus on his duties as a royal guard, but had admittedly felt guilty for it & put the fire out before too much of them could be consumed. He then instead opted to keep them in his bedside drawer at home.

There is some part of him that actually has some form of recognition for her as his daughter. It's just that he doesn't care enough to make an actual effort.

Back to Nemma, before being kidnapped & taken advantage of, she was actually a very happy & expressive kid with a love for adventure & could even be a bit rash at times. Oftentimes not even really planning things out or taking into account the consequences of her actions. Back then, she often waved off her grandparents' advice, thinking it was just old people talk. Though, she'd always wished to be a proud Sheikah warrior & blacksmith like her grandfather, even back then.

Due to her trauma, not just from the overload of emotional stress from being trained as a certain type of slave, but also from her having finally realized that her father had abandoned her & likely wouldn't have even helped save her if not for King Rauru, Nemma developed alexithymia. Which is a difficulty expressing one's own emotions, specifically in identifying their thoughts & feelings.

It's something that she's been dealing with ever since. She's definitely gotten better, but it… well, it's rough on her. This is partly why she's become so stoic.

Of course, it isn't the whole reason, but definitely part of it.

However, since then, Nemma has become more stoic, serious, reserved, careful, & calculating as a result of her traumatic experience & taking her grandparents' words into more consideration as she had begun to seek them out for comfort more often. Having also grown to hate slavers & those who harm others, especially children, for their own personal gain & is always on the lookout for them. Fully prepared to end their lives at a moment's notice.

In this way, while generally level-headed, she can be a bit unhinged & even vindictive at times. At least, in these situations.

As such, she'll definitely have issues with the Gerudo once she learns of their Vo'màzren (concubini, otherwise known as male concubines) & Vàsitulïxan, dominatrixes paid specifically to break in & train male concubines via domination. One such method involving the use of what is, essentially, magical strap-ons that are embedded with magically enhanced Amethysts, which are known for making connections between things, specifically the mind, spirit, or body & something else. (These are known as Stolkén.)

While the possibilities of such gemstones & their uses fascinate Nemma, to do something like this without one's consent chafes her majorly.

Even still, it is something that has just been a part of the Gerudo lifestyle since the Sûl'si Nàshàlay'è (literally, the Curse of Castration. Referencing the female-only curse) befell them nearly 40-50,000 years ago. (Not that anyone remembers this fact.) As such, the Gerudo back then had a good amount of them, though only the higher ranked Gerudo had full, legit harems & not even many of them did. Such individuals included the captain of the guard & the 3 Vaen, who worked at a place known as a Surré Qasrehs (Pleasure Palace; though it's really just a very big tent before the timeskip), but were very high-ranked individuals. There could only ever be 3 Vaen at a time. If you want to know more about them, then go to my Vae & the Spring of Talthïrï post. Warning, it's weird.

Likewise, the sex industry there, specifically prostitution where Vo'màzren also worked in the Pleasure Palace alongside the 3 Vaen & often were trained by them, tended to entirely revolve around unowned Vo'màzren, which were referred to as Hra'tàkdham Vo'màzren (Free-Use Concubini), & they weren't even really paid. Instead, their rewards tended to be food & lodging, though the most well-behaved were treated better & the best, most talented, or most experienced tended to be showered with luxury & finery. It was very much not a good thing.

Admittedly, there turned out to be a handful of Vo'màzren who seemed to "come around" to their new lifestyles, some even taking to it like a fish to water. And those were often referred to as Nebdhàhi Vo'màzren or golden concubini. But the truth of the matter was that this generally happened due to them sort of brainwashing themselves into enjoying the lifestyle, even beginning to believe that they didn't deserve a better life. Admittedly, some truly did enjoy it, but those were few & far between.

Disgustingly, this Pleasure Palace tended to have 2 draws. Sexual gratification & the right to be bred. And repeatedly purchasing a free-use Vo'màzren for the night to breed with could be much more costly depending on the skill & quality of the Vo'màzr. Though, that could be avoided by rather than renting them for one night, instead purchasing them outright as one wouldn't need to buy multiple sessions as the man would be theirs. At the same time, those Vo'màzren who fathered children, while considered fathers, were still thought to be part of the lowest class & not given the authority or respect that they were due as the one who helped to facilitate the child's existence.

Anyway, this Pleasure Palace was the backbone of the sex industry within Gerudàn culture & was where Vo'màzren were trained & where those that were purchased as a private slave were prepared for their new mistresses. It really was a truly rotten experience. The only chance that such men had of a decent life was through romancing their mistresses & eventually becoming their husbands, which would elevate him to normal citizen status & would thus grant him rights as a free person.

Luckily, the enslaving of children is strictly forbidden or Ganondorf would have absolutely zero chance, but the fact that male slaves & even harems of abducted men were still a thing for their culture, would still be a point of contention for Nemma. If Ganondorf has any hopes of gaining her favor & keeping it, he'll have to change that. Though, hearing Nemma's story, her experiences, & her perspective on it will likely help in this.

As mentioned above, though, even after Ganondorf abolished it, there were a handful of men who chose, for one reason or another, to remain doing that sort of work. As such, while Vo'màzren were freed, the industry still managed to survive so long as they treated the men with rights & actually paid them.

While Ganondorf & Nemma generally get along very well. One thing they will consistently fight over is the practice of Pàras’éda Vaivàq al’Eabū (Making Womanous the Enemy).

You see, due to the Gerudo being a female-only race besides Ganondorf & the fact that the Gerudo currently have a bad relationship with Hyrule as a whole. The Gerudo are forced to find ways to create the next generation. You see, due to the Gerudo being a female-only race besides Ganondorf & the fact that the Gerudo currently have a bad relationship with Hyrule as a whole. The Gerudo are forced to find ways to create the next generation. This way tends to be either the use of the Vaen, Vo'màzren, or the act of raping their male enemies.

So, since Vo'màzren were much reduced & they wished to prevent as much inbreeding as possible, Pàras Vaivàq al’Eabū became a near necessity.

It was also something that has been a necessity for millennia & if a Vai especially liked a conquest, she'd often keep him.

This was how the Gerudo sex industry initially began.

Over time, the availability of Vo'màzren due to the industry allowed for Pàras Vaivàq al’Eabū to not happen quite so often, but now that there aren't nearly so many Vo'màzren available, it's caused the price for their services to skyrocket.

This, however, forces Gerudo with lesser means to have to find their own men, which, inevitably, resulted in Pàras Vaivàq al’Eabū becoming common again.

It's very much not something Nemma is okay with. However, her logical mind & hatred of delusion forces her to acknowledge that the Gerudo really & honestly don't have very many options.

Especially since Ganondorf abolished slavery.

At the same time, sometimes… sometimes she struggles with her morals.

And she'll get frustrated & snap sometimes.

The fighting never lasts because Nemma knows that the Gerudo are in no place to be picky.

As such, she sees it as a necessary evil. One that she loathes & would readily drop at a moment’s notice.

---

Also, I'm giving Ganondorf small Orc-like tusks & slightly pronounced upper canines, which results in him having a tiny bit of an underbite. The upper canines being much less pronounced than the tusks. Not anything too terribly noticeable until he steals the Secret Stone & becomes the Demon King. But before that, you can tell they're there when he's talking or smiling or just has his mouth open.

I'm sort of just making this a male Gerudo thing.

He also likes to nip, bite, & lightly nibble Nemma playfully using those very tusks & canines. Whether it be her neck, shoulders, ears, the tips of her fingers (often with a playful little smirk before kissing the pad), or something else.

His kisses will also tend to tickle her due to his beard, which causes her to smile if not giggle on occasion.

Which always gets him to smile. Partially because she just doesn't laugh often & partially because her laugh is just so delicate & feminine, like tinkling bells, compared to how she normally is & the juxtaposition is simply breathtaking to him, often causing his heart to flutter.

Ganondorf will sometimes even rub his chin against her skin just to make her laugh.

As a matter of fact, Nemma loves Ganondorf's beard, thinking it looks very rugged & manly. She just has a huge thing for masculinity.

And as an aside, I think Ganondorf is a bit touch-starved, though he's initially unused to & uncomfortable with non-sexual physical affection. However, he wouldn't put up a resistance & once he gets used to it, he'll crave it like a dying man in the desert craves water.

I also think that Ganondorf would find this fact embarrassing if he ever realized it.

Also, the fact that Nemma refuses to go anywhere without some form of weapon, even to royal affairs, is something that Ganondorf would both expect of her & would deeply respect. Especially when he doesn't even have to mention said expectation.

This would only further cement his belief that the little Sheikah was the perfect queen, born to rule at his side. It'd warm his chest in an unusual way that he'd still be unfamiliar with.

He also tends to get up at the crack of dawn every morning to practice with his weapons. He finds it meditative.

Nemma initially avoids joining him as she believed it was his “me time” & she didn't want to invade that, so she did her morning routines elsewhere. It wasn't until he inquired what she did in the mornings & she said that she had easy morning workouts. He then asked why she didn't join him & she replied that she didn't want to intrude. But then he offered & she quickly begins joining him, not seeing any reason not to.

I'm also gonna have him eventually take up the Sitàr, which will seem to pair quite well with Nemma's Shinobue playing. It'll create a type of sound that is very interesting, but harmonizes in a unique way.

He'll have never considered the idea of taking up an instrument before meeting Nemma, having seen it as a waste of time when one could instead spend that time on something more productive.

However, Nemma will ignite within him a deeper appreciation for music & cultures in general. Especially his own. He'll find it to be yet another meditative experience that he quite enjoys.

His tunes tend to flow lazily through the air as, much like Nemma, he tends to play it to relax & unwind. Doesn't really go into it intending to create songs, but that's what he ends up doing.

Turns out that Ganondorf is actually quite gifted & creative when it comes to music.

---

Anyway, Nemma fights using swords with her favorite being Namikaze no Odori, which is a Katana that she forged herself using the blacksmithing techniques that her grandfather taught her. However, she generally only uses it in emergencies as it is extremely overpowered & if there's one thing she loves, it's a challenge.

Most other times, she has a pair of Sheikatō (canonically called Eightfold Blades) & Kodachi that she can use. Two Sheikatō sheathed at her hips, two Kodachi strapped to her thighs, & her Namikaze no Odori sheathed across her back. Normally, she'll switch between different combinations of them depending on her opponent. Sometimes, she'll use both Sheikatō, sometimes she'll use both Kodachi, & sometimes she'll use one Sheikatō & one Kodachi.

The ones she uses, while exceptional quality due to her having made them herself, really aren't that special beyond the fact that they are made of a Zoridium steel alloy. Zoridium being what Zora weapons are generally made of & what lets said weapons boost attack when wet.

For specifics on how Nemma made the Namikaze no Odori, what it's made of, ect. Go to my Namikaze no Odori post.

She's actually learned that when in a pinch & no water was available, blood works just as well as water. So, when she needs an extra boost, but doesn't want to use her best weapon, she will just run a blade across her own palm. Though, when in a fight with things that bleed, including monsters that aren't almost purely made of evil magic, she doesn't even really need to do that & all she has to do is land a good hit on them.

As a swordfighter, she is proficient in both Iaidō & Yadome no Jutsu. Iaidō being a style of withdrawing one's sword from its scabbard swiftly & efficiently so as to attack with a flick, flicking blood from the blade, before returning it to its scabbard. This is an art that demands total situational awareness & control. Meanwhile Yadome no Jutsu is the somewhat legendary military skill of arrow-cutting or blocking. It allows one to either cut or deflect arrows from the air with your sword.

Her training in Kenjutsu involved things that bring to mind the Flurry Strike, Extra Attack, & Opportunist feats from DnD, with further training depending on specialization.

For instance, Nemma specializes in the Daisho style of Kenjutsu. Or dual-wielding Wakizashi or Sheikatō. Which allows her to perform techniques like Dual Blades, Dragon Blades, & Whirlwind Blades, from DnD.

When she gets old, Nemma plans to start using a Shikomizue (仕込み杖, Prepared Cane) because she likes the idea of surprising bandits who think she's an easy target. Her grandpa actually did that quite often when he was out delivering his work to customers. While not a dedicated fighter himself, that didn't mean that he couldn't defend himself &, in fact, he was very good at taking attackers by surprise & finishing them off quickly.

Then, there's Kaihi Tanren (回避鍛練, Evasion or Avoidance Martial Training) which trains the body in things like Uncanny Dodge, Evasion, & Elusive, again, from DnD. (I'm taking a lot of inspiration from a 5e homebrew for a Ninja class, here.)

There's also Shinjun Tanren (浸潤鍛練, Infiltration Martial Training) which eventually lets her perform what amounts to Infiltration Expertise, Acculturate, & Imposter, once again, from DnD. Which, Acculturate is actually extremely useful to her as it allows her to be able to learn any language from any place she goes to in a very short amount of time provided she studies how those around her speak it for at least an hour each day for a month or so. She'll most likely use it to learn the Gerudo language too.

It'll likely stun the Gerudo too.

She is, likewise, exceptionally skilled in Kiridō, both Kirijutsu & Santoku, which are 2 different types of knife styles. Kiridō being the overall use of knives, whether for fighting or for cooking. Kirijutsu specifically being the martial or self-defensive branch of Kiridō while Santoku refers specifically to the use of the kitchen knife. Santoku translates to either "three virtues" or "three uses." Which refers to the 3 uses for kitchen knives: slicing, dicing, & mincing. While one can learn Santoku separately from Kirijutsu if they so desire, it is thought in Sheikah culture that in order to get the full understanding of all that a Hōchō (kitchen knife) is capable of, one must also know how to defend oneself with that Hōchō. Which, while Hōchō are not designed with the thought of fighting specifically in mind, they are designed to be able to be used in such a way & be effective at it if necessary. This is due to it being said that the best knifefighters know how to use a Kiri to cook just as easily as to fight. Interestingly, the best Sheikah chefs are also skilled in knifefighting.

Nemma tends to not only enjoy, but actually thrive when learning such multipurpose concepts as it scratches that practical part of her brain quite nicely & in a very satisfying way.

While on the road, she really only brought with her a Gyuto-Bōchō & a Honekotsu-Bōchō. A Gyuto-Bōchō is a Chef's knife & one of the most versatile, being able to do the 3 Virtues of the kitchen just as easily as a Santoku-Bōchō, plus much more. And a Honekotsu-Bōchō is, quite simply, a butchery knife able to cut through heavy meat & bone just as easily as it can do fine, detailed meat-cutting work such as fileting, depending on whether she sharpens or dulls the blade before use. Which is useful when she has to prepare her kills when she goes out hunting. (The Honekotsu-Bōchō is technically a fusion of 2 real world bone & meat kitchen knives: Honesuki-Bōchō & Hankotsu-Bōchō. This is just my attempt to condense things a bit.)

She avoided getting any others or even making herself any as a full Kamado Nakama (Kitchen Companion, a kitchen knife set of Sheikah make) would take up a lot of space in her pack, especially a Mamena (diligent) set. Not to mention, that it was tradition for a woman to get her first Hōchō-Kaku (basically a knife block for the kitchen) when she marries & settles down. Typically as a gift from her husband for their first home together. And usually, it was a Katei-Yō or Home Kaku which generally aren't as fully-stocked as Mamena Kaku tend to be unless the man is either marrying a chef or is a chef himself.

---

And while her preferred weapons are swords or knives, she's also very skilled at using a Jōhyō (chain kunai or rope dart). She tends to wear a Jōhyō Han Kote when on a job, which is actually a very practical, traditional multipurpose Sheikah weapon that doubled as a convenient way to make travel more efficient & sort of inspired the Hookshot. Its most well-known purpose is as a weapon, being capable of working like a regular Jōhyō or a Hidden Blade in combat. Basically, having a dual-use as both a long-ranged weapon & short ranged one. When using it for combat, she can either just let the kunai blade out to use it as a short knife, shoot it out like a clawshot to stab someone, or uncoil it so that she can whirl it around at her side much like WW Link does with a grappling hook & either swing it at anyone who gets too close or throw it at someone farther back.

It can also work as either a Hookshot or a Grappling Hook depending on how it's used.

She also has a secret compartment in her Jōhyō Han Kote where she can put poison, which much like in Assassin's Creed, she can use to covertly assassinate targets, injecting them with it, without drawing attention. It also has what amounts to brass knuckles or Tekkō (鉄甲) built in much like her other Han Kote. Though, it's less actual Tekkō & more so metal studs welded to the knuckles of the Han Kote.

For reference, this is what I mean when I say a Jōhyō Han Kote:

Though, with a guard around the back of the hand. It's a very versatile & useful tool. Also, not my art. I DO NOT claim it as such. If I could underline the "do not" there, I would.

She also keeps a Phrenic Bow on her at all times & is a deadshot (excellent for when she has to make a hit from afar & not get seen), but she'll eventually find that she prefers a Gerudo Bow as their design allows for higher accuracy & more power. Though, not so much the golden hue as it increased visibility. However, she may eventually find that she's better with a double-limbed bow.

Though, a bow isn't her preferred weapon. She typically uses it when she can't get up close & personal with a hit. At the same time, she generally prefers to use it for hunting animals. She remembered hunting with her master growing up.

She wishes that she knew more about bowyering as she gets tired of having to carry around so many different types of arrows. She's just never been very good with woodwork, though she was learning & was determined to be able to one day match her grandmother's skills at it as well as with general woodwork. She can currently fletch & carve figurines okay, but not much beyond that. If she were any good, she'd try to make a sort of spellcaster's bow that would use her magic to infuse regular arrows with elements.

As it stands, she has to buy specific elemental arrows & she doesn't know the Zonai's Weapon Fusion rune. She's been trying to learn to replicate the effect using Sheijutsu or Fūinjutsu, but it's slow going. Once she does though, she'll likely begin carrying around a pouch of arrow-compatible monster parts. Though, she'll tend not to use eyeballs much as she prefers not to rely on them to make her mark & will really only use them when necessary.

---

As mentioned before, Nemma also always has some form of weapon on her & is simply not comfortable unless she has some tangible way to defend herself on hand.

The Kôgai (笄, Hair Sticks) she's wearing? Their tips are made of metal & sharpened to points, thus allowing them to be used as daggers in a pinch. If she wears heeled slippers, then she needs them to be specially made with blades in the heels &, if she can get it, metal reinforced toes.

She always has a pouch full of Deku Nuts on hand, whether for a distraction or what have you.

---

When she learns of them, she'll think most of the Yiga are pretty pathetic, at least compared to herself, & that the entire Kohga line was full of lazy buffoons & wastes of space that refuse to work. (Which, the first time Ganondorf hears this, he actually gives a mighty, hearty guffaw; a full belly laugh that rumbled like storm clouds in his chest.)

She fully acknowledges that she isn't normal & that the Yiga are legitimately dangerous to the untrained & even some of the more well-trained. They are, after all, bandits & are known to ambush Sheikah & blond individuals, robbing & even killing quite a few people.

But that doesn't stop the fact that she'd only consider someone like Sooga a decent fight if they ever, hypothetically, met. Maybe. Depends on how badass the writer wants to make him. I still don't think she'd lose to him, though. And even on the slim chance that he did win, he'd have to catch her completely off-guard & use his superior male strength against her right out the gate & take her out as soon as possible. No testing the waters.

Though, even then, the next time they'd fight, she'd be able to counter him. However, considering that she gives Ganondorf a run for his money, I just don't see him getting the upper hand.

In this way, I consider the 4 strongest fighters to be, from best to least best to be: Link, Ganondorf & Nemma (in different areas), then Sooga.

---

Actual Story:

Ganondorf & Nemma meet when she came to the Gerudo Encampment to learn their Dawallahan style of forging scimitars & then use Dawasaaq steel (basically the Hyrule equivalent to Damascus steel) from the Gerudo Highlands to remake the Namikaze no Odori's blade, starting by infusing Zoridium into the Dawasaaq steel, which is ideal for blade creation. This wouldn't increase the Katana's base attack by much, just by 5, making it a base of 115 & 230 when wet, but would instead greatly increase its durability, which means she wouldn't have to be quite so religious in its upkeep & the blade itself could take more abuse before being overtaxed.

During which, she caught sight of the behemoth of a man training with his soldiers & noticed the weapon he was wielding, recognizing the Katana (刀, Two-Handed Sword) he was using.

Well, she supposed that it was more a Wakizashi (脇差, One-Handed Sword) in his hands than a Katana.

Turned out that the Sheikah who Ganondorf had commissioned it from had actually been Nemma's grandfather & that she remembered him making it as well as the others in the Shōki (瘴気, Miasma) series. Shōki being the name that Takka gave to the Gloom series of weapons as the weapons were designed to be able to channel Ganondorf's Malice or On'nenmaryoku (怨念魔力, magic power that is fueled by a mix of hatred, grudement, malice, vengeance, & resentfulness that can consume spirits & make them furious or malicious & evil spirits even more so).

Initially, he was suspicious & asked her what the other weapons in the series were as only the Katana was present. As he did so, he eyed her subtly, admitting inwardly that she was very attractive. If her words were correct, he wouldn't mind a one-night fling with the tiny Sheikah woman. It's not like a Hyrulean would matter much when he only intended to fuck her & be done.

He could also see how she tried to hide how her own eyes roamed his form in return, which caused him to smirk internally. The giant of a man knew that he was a prime specimen, not just by Gerudo standards, but also by Hyrulean ones. Though, if she turns out to be any good, he might consider making her one of his Vamàziahen.

And, indeed, the Sheikah did observe him. Taking in his masculine features. His rippling muscles under taught, slightly greenish dark skin. His long, russet hair pulled into a topnot. His striking golden eyes like the piercing gaze of an eagle. His strong features & aquiline nose. And especially his incredible height, around 9-10 feet.

The guy was ma-hoo-sive!

Nemma thought a moment, her nose scrunching ever so slightly, before replying that one was a Naginata (薙刀, Polearm or Spear), & then there's the Daikyū (大弓, Samurai War Bow) & Konbō (棍棒, Club, Stick or Cudgel) that were made as a collaboration between her grandparents as her grandmother was the woodworker & bowyer in the family.

Ganondorf's brows rose nearly to his hairline in surprise, then interest. That was quite the coincidence.

He then commented that her grandparents' work had served him quite well, but then he expected as much from the famous Masamuna forging clan of Kakariko. And proceeded to ask for her name.

To which, she replied "Is it not normally considered polite to introduce one's own self before requesting the name of another?"

Though a tiny bit miffed, Ganondorf hummed & admitted the truth in that & did as such, introducing himself as Voe'attàr Gánōndōrfè Gárorrzïr of the royal Gerudo house of Drāgamīr, Son of Gàlaaqkōba, King of the Gerudo, specifying that the Hyrulean transliteration of King Ganondorf Dragmire would suffice if she struggled to pronounce the Gerudàn pronunciation of it. (Though, he says it with a bit of a sneer, as though he weren't expecting much.)

Then, requested her name once more.

Honestly, the tiny Sheikah should be grateful that not only was he in a good mood today, but that her grandparents' work was so exceptional, as otherwise he would've simply demanded her compliance.

However, rather than apologize for her slight against a king as he expected, she simply bowed in greeting & introduced herself as "Masamuna Nanema," stating that it was an honor to make his acquaintance.

They chatted for a bit before, feeling oddly charmed by her, Ganondorf then invited her to observe his training with his soldiers, hoping to impress her & get a good fling out of it, which Nemma thanked him graciously for the offer, but rejected.

Ganondorf was shocked by the audacity, then stunned further when she, rather cordially, challenged him to a duel to prove to her that he still deserved to wield her grandfather's work.

Part of him was insulted at the idea that he wouldn't be, while the other admired her courage & gall to actually challenge a man, a king, one twice her size.

Chuckling at the very idea of losing, Ganondorf asked what she planned to do if he lost.

To which she replied, "I will then be retrieving the Shōki series from your possession." The large Gerudo frowned at the idea of her stealing from the Bandit King.

"Do not misunderstand. I do not intend to rob you. It was a legitimate business transaction after all. However, please understand that I cannot allow one unworthy to wield my grandfather's work. If you have not proven your worth by the end of the battle, then I will simply appraise them & reimburse you for the loss."

As fair as that was, logically, he did not like that she wished to take from him something that he'd commissioned personally. Especially when they were so reliable.

He accepted her challenge, looking to stamp out the assumption that he "might not be worthy" but was quickly taken aback by the mesmerizing skill with which she handled her own weapon when, the very next instant after the fight had begun, she struck out quick as lightning, drawing her Sheikatō from her sheath in a technique he'd only heard mention of before (an Iaidō), most likely to try to debilitate him quickly.

If he had not been himself, then she would've likely won in just the opening encounter, but he was Gánōndōrfè, King of the Gerudo, Vah Gela damnit! He wouldn't be taken out that easily! So, with a fierce glare, he deflected her strike before it could land.

He held her gaze for a moment, measuring her up & found something odd.

Her expression, where once she was stoic to a fault, now her face bore a look of shock upon it, before turning to intrigue.

As the fight progressed, he noticed in her a sort of energy. An aura of growing excitement.

She was incredibly strong too, as well as quick on her feet, & an obviously brilliant strategist as she had not only struck him many times, but had also caused him to faulter & stumble more than once. But he would not be bested!

Even still, Ganon knew that she was holding back on him. She was obviously an extremely skilled Sheikah Warrior, thus she must be trained in her tribe's sorcery.

So, he taunted her to try & get her to do so, but she simply gave a tiny smirk before continuing.

Anyway, she & Ganondorf continue to fight & I imagine that it'd become similar to the punch-cute from Shang Chi: Ten Rings, between Wenwu & Ying Li, but with swords.

In the end, Nemma loses, at which point, her expression turned briefly to awe, then a clarifying realization before evening back out into stoicism.

For his part, Ganondorf was exhausted, but in that really satisfying way after accomplishing something extremely difficult, but worthwhile.

She was impressive. Damn impressive in fact. He hadn't been so challenged by a fight since he was a boy. The experience was a very fulfilling one that left him wanting more.

Nemma then stood up somewhat unsteadily & bowed deeply to him in a way that indicated deep respect & the sight made the man's chest swell with pride & his blood run hot. He knew that he'd earned her respect & the knowledge of one so strong, acknowledging him as the mighty warrior that he was & had always been, was pleasing to him & stroked his ego.

The fact that she was quite the beautiful one certainly helped. He found himself regarding her once more, though this time, he recognized the scars that litters her body & the defined muscle definition & could not help but think that they somehow enhanced her appearance as they were the marks of a survivor.

The woman thanked him graciously for the opportunity to test herself against his sword & said that she was honored that one so skilled was wielding the Masamuna family's work & that the Katana of the Shōki series was his. She went on to say that it was a relief to know this & offered her services as a weaponsmith should he ever need the Masamuna's talents in the future, though she warns that she had only just begun to learn bowyery & was likely to damage the Daikyū that her grandparents made for him. And, though she was an acceptable whittler, she also wouldn't recommend requesting her skills in them to make Konbō either as she was a perfectionist & was still learning from her grandmother.

G: "So, you have followed in your clan's footsteps?"

N: "Yes, Gánōndōrfè-sama."

G: "You are… incredibly skilled with your sword. It's hard to believe that you'd expect everyone who'd ever purchased your grandparents' work to overcome such a... daunting challenge."

N: "I don't. I merely expect them to prove they are above average at using the weapons they bought. Which, I will need to confirm your mettle with the other weapons in the Shōki series. Further apologies for the inconvenience, sire. Though, I suspect that there is no need for worry, I still require confirmation to settle my own."

Ganondorf nodded, unconsciously leaning closer to her, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He warmed ever so slightly at not only having been referred to as a king by one who was not his subject, but also at the obvious, yet strangely genuine flattery, then paused in confusion, a look of scandal upon his face.

G: "You only consider yourself to be above average?"

N: "Oh, no, sire. I knew you were worthy after the moment that you blocked my first strike."

Ganondorf settled, then took a moment to process that even as his ego inflated at the fact that he'd proven himself so quickly.

G: "... Then why continue?"

N: "... I have not been truly challenged in a very long time, Gánōndōrfè-sama."

G: "Gánōn is fine. I believe that you've earned that tiny amount of familiarity. Warriors get to know each other quite well by fighting, yes?"

Nemma paused before relaxing slightly with a nod & a slight uptick at the corner of her lips.

N: "Gánōn-sama then. If that is the case, then may I humbly request that his highness refer to this one as Nemma?"

G: "... You may... Vànda Nemma..."

That slight uptick seemed to twitch, briefly turning it into the tiniest smile that the voe had ever witnessed. Yet, somehow, despite its unassuming scale, it somehow managed to propagate until it just barely lightened her sapphirine eyes.

Though, as to whether or not she recognized the title as the honestly bold flattery that it was, he wasn't sure. However, his guard very much did, judging by how her brows rose briefly before immediately returning to a neutral position. She'd better not gossip about it if she knew what was good for her.

N: "Gomen ne or... A'nï sàreq'so, Gánōn-sama. Is that how it is said?"

He could practically feel his own smirk soften ever so slightly at the edges at her slightly slow vocalization of the words, indicating a degree of unfamiliarity & care in the pronunciation of the expression of gratitude. The only significant mistake within her use of the eucharism, appearing to be the lack of vocalization of the ‘Khamza.

G: “That is correct.”

To which, she nodded slightly in polite understanding & demure appreciation.

It was odd, Ganondorf had always believed that he'd be annoyed with the politely submissive & overly meek disposition that Hylian vaien were known derisively among the Gerudo for, as he'd believed that it'd be a flagrant display of weakness. And if there was one thing that he couldn't stand, it was weak women. Yet, though the yà'vai’làra (little warrior woman) very much did display such outward traits, there was also an aura of refinement & elegance that almost seemed to cast an illusory veil over such a notion as “weakness.” Honing it, instead, into an almost imperceptible sharpness that primly & politely stated, ‘you may underestimate me if you so desire. However, in so doing, you may also find yourself paying the price for such an egregious & arrogant error at a later date.’

It honestly brought to mind the stories of Sheikah vaien pretending to be courtesans. Fluttering their fans in front of their faces for some pompous weakling of a voe who was pathetically unaware of the wickedly sharp blades hidden within the fan's delicate silk.

The very image of elegant lethality.

As Ganondorf had grown into himself, he'd come to believe that such stories were fantasticized for the purposes of Hyrulean fearmongering. However, the tiny Sheikan vai's demeanor when paired with the wonderful display of skill she just gifted him with; he wasn’t quite so sure anymore.

If he were being honest, it heated his blood in quite the pleasant way. He very much looked forward to further duels in the future. Even ones that consisted mainly of witticious verbal engagement.

N: "As I was saying, I wished to further test your majesty's martial prowess, though for my own sake. For that, I apologize. I… wished to see what you were capable of. As is apparent by the results of our duel, the answer would be 'quite a good deal more than I had anticipated.'"

She then turned & bowed.

N: "Please accept my apologies for having acted without decorum. I will excuse myself to deal with my own injuries, if that is acceptable to you, sire?"

Ganondorf was suddenly reminded of his own injuries, the aches settling in rapidly as the adrenaline faded from his system & quickly took the out that she had so graciously given him by confirming that it was acceptable.

Though, before he left, he turned back & implied that he wouldn't be averse to another bout. Which, he hoped that she'd use more of her arsenal when they met in battle once more, because he planned to use more of his as well.

She paused for a moment, her eyes briefly lighting up with anticipation before flushing slightly & nodding her acceptance.

Upon leaving her sight, Ganondorf would stumble, clutching his ribs as blood dripped from his lips, his hand shooting up to take hold of a wall & steady himself. He'd barely won that fight by just a sliver. That, more than anything, just put a Hylian Pinecone on the fire of his swiftly growing desires.

The fact that he'd beaten such a capable & skilled woman excited him beyond measure.

He grinned manically as the thought of making her his first crossed his mind.

That's when his obsession with one Masamuna Nanema first sprouted.

—

They'd duel several more times over the next couple weeks. And each fight, she'd show him something new, whether it be her knifework, dual-wielding, her use of the chained dart vambrace (Jōhyō Han Kote), her skill with a bow, her acrobatic athleticism, or her skill with Sheikah spellwork (Sheijutsu), that made him want her more with each passing day.

It also helped that she was so interesting & a surprisingly great conversationalist.

And each time, Ganondorf would win just barely & with each fight, he became more determined to court her.

He also began using her evaluations of his skills with the other Shōki weapons as excuses to show off to her & prove himself to be the best possible choice for a match. And judging by how she'd eye him up whenever she thought he wasn't looking, it was working.

He soon found himself getting… *cough* excited during their fights & after adjourning, he'd be forced to retreat to a secluded area to uh… "work off his leftover energy."

—

He just had to ease his suspicions first.

G: "You… wouldn't happen to be another of your King's messengers come here to convince the Gerudo King to come bask in Hyrule's glory via temptation, or perhaps a very attractive assassin, now would you?"

N: "Rauru is not my king & I wasn't aware that he had made such a nuisance of himself especially to one that I surmise that he wishes to become allies with. Though, I am flattered that his highness finds me so enticing. The feeling is mutual, m'lord. And, if I were sent here to assassinate you, you'd already be dead."

Ganondorf snorted derisively at the idea of being allies with that old goat, but couldn't hold back his smirk at the reciprocated compliment even though he very much doubted that that last part was true. (Poor fool has no clue.)

Though, he became suspicious of the denial of Rauru as her king as well as the informal way in which she referred to him.

He leaned in, looming over her, looking down his nose at her, trying to determine if she was deceiving him. He decided that if she was, then she was very good.

Nemma sighed & lifted her hands, beginning to untie her topknot. Her hair fell much shorter than any Sheikah he'd seen before. To her shoulders & the ends were cut straight. Something about it seemed to tickle his memory, but he couldn't quite grasp it yet.

N: "When I first left Kakariko to travel & become a monster/bounty hunter & mercenary, I used my Kodachi to cut my hair off at the nape."

Ganondorf's eyes lit up as the memory finally connected.

G: "I believe that I read once somewhere that in the Sheikah culture, it is considered a sign of cutting off one's ties with the Royal Family. You made yourself a Ronin. A Sheikah with no master."

N: "That is correct. You are quite knowledgeable. You find my culture intriguing, yes? I see the haori you wear."

Ganondorf sputtered, embarrassed that he'd been caught, but then again, he'd never seen a reason to hide it. Though, he couldn't help the sense of pride he got from being seen as knowledgeable in such things.

G: "I suppose that… in some ways, the Sheikah remind me of my own people, but in others, they are entirely alien to me. I find it interesting that two cultures that have only infrequently interacted can be both so similar & so different. You do not find the mimicry insulting?"

Nemma smiled.

N: "Not at all. Imitation isn't only the most sincere form of flattery, it's also the most sincere form of learning. Though, & pardon my audacity, but it appears that you've tied the obi incorrectly."

The Gerudo man jerked slightly at that, embarrassed once more that all that practice had gone to waste.

N: Do not fret, Sire. You have done far better than most others who were self-taught & the mistakes are minor as well as simple to correct. It is more than apparent that you paid an admirable amount of attention. I am more than willing to aid you in refining your technique if you so wish. Honestly, I too tend to see the Gerudo similarly. I admire your warrior spirits & traditions."

Ganondorf smirked with pride at her recognition of his & his people's efforts. As well as of the fact that he'd done his research.

G: "Likewise &... It would be ungentlemanly of a voe to turn down such a generous offer from a vai as lovely as yourself."

N: "You flatter this unworthy one, m'lord."

She hid her tiny smile & the slight (genuine) flushing of her cheeks behind her delicately closed fist, not even noticing how she unconsciously fluttered her lashes at him in a coquettish manner. If she had a Himitsu Tessen (秘密鉄扇, war fan disguised as a Sensu or courtier's handfan), she'd be fluttering it daintily in front of her lower face as she'd been taught to when flirting amongst the elites on a mission. (Though, she still wasn't confident in her Tessenjutsu technique.)

N: "I also quite admire how you've managed to integrate Gerudo textiles, colors, & patterning into the haori's design at the same time. I may have to inquire as to who made it. I may wish to request their services. It's strange, but… the two styles seem to meld together oddly well?"

Her praise & it's obvious, seemingly hopeful, insinuation to the parallels in their own possible future relationship made a fluttering, hesitant feeling of excitement bloom inside Ganondorf's chest.

G: "They… do seem to be quite… compatible, yes…"

Sheikah culture had always fascinated him. Coming from a warrior culture himself, he especially admired their traditions as fighters. Though, the fact that most were so loyal to that cowardly, peace-loving Rauru & his wife tended to sour that impression.

If not for that, he'd actually be quite the fan.

—

G: "I was wondering. That opening strike you performed in our first duel? How do you do that?"

Nemma giggled, the sound like tinkling bells to his ears.

N: "That was an Iaidō. It is a very difficult thing to learn. Why? Would you like me to teach you?"

Almost too quickly & with too much enthusiasm, Ganondorf said yes before clearing his throat & folding one of his arms over his chest, the other going up to cough into his closed fist as he looked away to hide the flush of embarrassment on his face.

G: "That… would be appreciated."

Nemma let the corners of her lips tug upwards only slightly.

N: "I'd be happy to."

---

Finally, after he'd proven himself capable at wielding all of the Shōki series, Ganondorf went to ask, but they ended up speaking at the same time, pausing when she offered to let him speak first.

At which point, he asked for her permission to court her, to which her eyes lit up in surprise before softening.

N: "It was my intention to ask you the same."

Ganondorf laughed, "Then, would I be correct in assuming that that is a, yes?"

N: "You would be correct."

And so, they began to court after tiptoeing around each other for weeks.

As time passed & they got more comfortable around each other, Nemma began to slowly become less formal with him.

---

The last of their deciding duels would end up being climactic. Downright epic. It'd be the one where she'd stop all pretenses & take out the Namikaze no Odori & really show him what she was made of. Not just physically, but as a battle mage as well.

Either Ganondorf had still managed to win or it ended in a tie, but either way they'd both need medical attention.

(Though, all throughout the fight, they had been making bedroom eyes at each other.)

That'd be when they both decided simultaneously, "this is who I'm going to marry."

Admittedly, Nemma would be somewhat frustrated at the fact that she hadn't won a single fight, but in the end, it would only encourage her to train harder.

Neither would posit the idea of marriage until at least another month or two of courting, but by then they'd both be completely committed.

Side-Note: While Ganondorf doesn't by any means gush, he does hum when he's in love & thinking about her. He also has a tendency to praise her, whether when speaking of her or to her.

Once he's ready, he'll take out a box, take her hands in his, flush slightly & avoid her eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. Before shoring up his courage, placing the decorative box in her hands, opening it to present a crudely-made platinum ring with a moonstone set inside it, & looking her in the eye to declare, "Kàvt shïchïso yūg nï’jï." Which means, "Bind your soul with mine." It is a Gerudo proposal. Of course, by then, Nemma will only know the literal translation of the request (demand, really), but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out his intent. As a result, she will be somewhat mischievous by asking him if it is similar to how the Sheikah propose. Ganondorf would deflate somewhat, thinking that she was deflecting the conversation to avoid hurting him & would reply that he did not know & would ask how the Sheikah did it.

To which, Nemma would retrieve a little box from her bag & place it in his hand. At which point, he'd look at her in confusion, who would return the expression with one that said "open it."

Upon doing so, he'd lift the tiny lid to reveal the petals of Silent Princesses & Sweetheart Orchids. On top of which would be a strip of paper with the kanji, "結婚して下さい." (Kekkon shite kudasai.) Which is the formal way to ask someone to marry them. She'd tell him as such & then wait for it to register in his head what it meant that not only did she have that prepared, but that she'd given it to him. (A Sweetheart Orchid is a beautiful white flower with a pink, heart-shaped outline said to be favored by Karina, the Goddess of Love & Passion. They can be found in Faron & sparsely in Necluda, but they grow well on Tuft Mountain & Ebon Mountain.)

When he does (it didn't take long, barely even a second), Ganondorf's eyes will light up with realization & then soften with relief & joy before chuckling fondly & commenting that they were quite the pair. To which, she'd agree, taking the ring he'd gifted her & sliding it onto her ring finger to admire it. Though unrefined, it was obviously made with a lot of love & careful attention. The Gerudo King lit up at the sight of her officially accepting his proposal, then bent his head down & captured her lips in a kiss, which Nemma would return eagerly.

After proposing, they decide to wed at the beginning of next spring in celebration of Vah Kàvtrïna (or Kariaina-no-Mikoto to the Sheikah). Which was one of the few deities that both pantheons had in common.

---

Anyway, I just wanted to clear something up real quick. In a one-on-one fight, Ganondorf absolutely wins. No question.

However, the fact that not only a woman, but one so much smaller than him (damn near half his effing size, even) is able to consistently get so close to winning each time?

That's actually more of a credit to her own skills as a fighter than to his. Because by all accounts, he should effing body her, but he doesn't.

If she were born a Gerudo Vai & went through the same training that she had in her current life, she'd beat his ass! Because I tend to come at this from a perspective of Gerudo Vaien being, on average, about as strong as male Hylians, Sheikah, & humans. And that's largely due to their greater height & body weight than their non-Gerudo counterparts. A well-trained 7-foot dude could likely take a well-trained Gerudo Vaien of average height.

Back to Nemma though, if Ganondorf were one of her targets, she'd likely have taken the fact that he was male into account, as well his height & weight class & would instead have assassinated him rather than taking her chances in a one-on-one fight.

In such a situation, he'd be dead. Like, holy shit, he wouldn't stand a damn chance.

He might survive the first 2 attempts with steadily increasing paranoia, but the third would see him in a body bag.

Basically, he wins… provided that he can see her coming.

Which... now that I think of it... That could be a very interesting scene for him, just as a way to humble him a bit while still allowing him to maintain his dignity, as the fact that she's only able to consistently manage such a feat when she doesn't take him on one-on-one, would likely sooth whatever bruises his ego might take.

As such, it's the sort of thing he'd be able to take very early in their relationship.

As a result, he'd be able to look passed the initial sting of defeat & his ego to her as a person & the sheer amount of skill & dedication to her training it would take to become so strong as to put him on his ass even once, let alone consistently even if it is under a specific caveat.

And he'd be insanely turned on by it.

Like this:

Ganondorf & Nemma sat chatting idly one evening after dinner in his palace (it was really more of a rock pueblo, honestly) when he suddenly went silent, his eyes widening slightly before they began to dart around the room.

N: "Judging by the panic in your eyes, I suspect the poison has begun taking effect by now."

His eyes snapped to his fiancée in shock & betrayal. Wrinkles had formed on his forehead & his jaw had gone slack inside his mouth. She could even see the little muscle underneath his left eye twitch slightly with anger.

In response, she reached across the table to caress his cheek fondly.

N: "Now, now. I do not plan on killing you, Koibito. I simply got tired of your boasting. Holding the fact that you won all our fights over my head. The poison will wear off in about an hour & you'll be none the worse for wear."

His eyes softened with relief. The wrinkles evening out, then scrunching slightly with curiosity.

The beautiful little Sheikah woman let out a quiet, bell-like giggle. She got up & began to walk around the table. The Gerudo's eyes following her as she went.

N: "My dear, handsome Gerudo King, you may overcome me in a direct confrontation..."

Upon arriving at his side, she turned him towards her & leaned over him, her eyes hooded as she examined his face.

N: "But... if you were a target... you would be long dead by now..."

She saw his apple bob minutely in his throat & his pupils widen ever so slightly. A small smile formed on her lips as she took a seat in his lap sidesaddle, causing his thigh to twitch at the contact, & began to stroke his chin.

N: "Just know that if I wished you dead... you would be."

With that, she kissed him tenderly. Then, she pulled back & fluttered her eyes up at him as her voice floated across her lips, light as a feather.

N: "And you wouldn't even know what caused it. It wouldn't have to be poison. I could shoot you with a bow from a distance away, & I might even use one of your own soldier's bows, instilling thoughts of treason. I haven't missed a shot in years. Or I could sneak up behind you while your back was turned &..."

She fisted the back of his haori & rubbed her nose against his, his lip quivering slightly.

N: "Plunge my Sheikatō into your back... Or I could slip quietly into your room in the middle of the night while you sleep &..."

Her finger traced over his heart & she smiled innocently at how he shuttered, chest heaving beneath her fingertip.

N: "Stab you through the heart... I could even..."

*Riske Content Warning*

Nemma then adjusted herself so that she was straddling Ganondorf. She rocked against his growing bulge, causing his throat to work & his thighs to twitch as he tried to gasp even though he could not open his mouth, his breath being sucked in sharply through his nostrils. The Shadow Warrior then whispered the rest of the sentence against his lips.

N: "Smother you with my womanhood & simply not let you up for air, though I doubt you would resist too terribly hard against that particular end."

Fuck, Ganondorf wasn't even sure if she was wrong on that. The large man's eyes were heavily lidded, pupils blown wide with lust, & Nemma could feel how he panted against her bosom. How he strained against his sirwàl.

N: "There are quite a lot of ways that I could go about it... but you need not worry… I wouldn't kill you unless you did something remarkably idiotic & unforgivable. Which, I think you're much too intelligent for."

She then pulled out a small glass vial from her pocket, unplugged it & took a swig.

The little Sheikah woman then leaned forward & kissed him, her mouth prying his lips open to deposit the fluid inside, his eyes closing as she did so, her tongue caressing his own as she tilted his head up, & her fingers massaging his throat so that he swallowed. Even after he'd done so, she lingered there for a few seconds longer.

*End of Riske Content*

The man let out a little whimper as she backed away.

N: "That was the antidote. It'll start working in a minute or so."

Then, she pecked him on the lips once more, got up, smirking minutely at the rosy tint to his cheeks & hazy, lustful look in his eyes as they followed her movements before sauntering off. Fingers running up his chest & over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.

Ganondorf was left alone to process how effing hot that was & unable to relieve his excitement until the antidote kicked in.

That was definitely a new kink.

---

Anyway, I see Ganondorf as the sort who'd try to manipulate Nemma into loving him rather than kidnap her or force himself on her. At least, not unless she outright rejected him repeatedly in the beginning, which obviously doesn't happen. But in the process, he'll inevitably become obsessed with her.

However, in the process of making Nemma fall in love with him, his obsession, while persisting, begins to be outweighed by a genuine care, affection, & later even love for her. At which point, he would no longer be able to bring himself to do such things to her because, then, her happiness would be legitimately important to him.

He'd still be obsessed with her, as well as possessive & protective of her, but by that point, it'd be fueled by his love for her.

Even more than that, I want him to eventually come to value & respect her in a way that I'm not sure we ever see him do.

I want her to be important to him on several levels.

I also don't see Ganondorf being able to corrupt her unless something big & tragic happened to her personally. Like, her entire race was killed off & she was the only one left levels of big & tragic. It'd be an intense desire for revenge that would do it, but if it ever did happen, he might not like the monstrous stranger that would become of her because of it.

The thing is, she has a deep sense of honor & nerves forged from steel. So, without that tipping point, any of Ganondorf's attempts to corrupt her would be met with her softening him with her genuineness &, at first hesitant, affection without even trying to.

This could either end up being a boon or could cause a problem between them because never once will Nemma try to change Ganondorf, but he could very well try to change her. And depending on the story & if she ever realized this, she might just leave him for it.

I mean, she wouldn't ever go against him unless he did something genuinely stupid like disrespect her family's legacy or kill her grandmother or harm children, but she definitely wouldn't help him either after realizing that he tried to change her without her permission. The fact that he'd try something like that would result in an uncharacteristic insecurity & the first seeds of self-doubt.

Nemma is an innately self-assured individual, toughened by her own, hard-earned, sense of self-worth. So, it would take someone extremely important to her doing something like this to damage that.

As a result, this might force Ganondorf to learn to apologize & swear on his life that he'll never do that again. (I'm thinking about that one arc in Tale of Two Rulers.)

—

In some ways, Nemma very much confuses Ganondorf. One of her level of skill & ability should've been able to take over Hyrule quite easily. Especially with her skills in subterfuge.

---

During the time that Nemma was in the desert to learn the Dawallaham technique, her & Ganondorf would begin to court & figure their way around each other.

At some point, the 6th Tear Memory from TotK would take place, then the 7th, both with Nemma there as well, as Ganondorf introduces her as his fiancée. The pair even being seen wandering around together, seemingly on dates. Then, afterwards, they would return to the desert, with the large man eager to continue courting his future queen. (Courting, specifically, as they both went into this with the intention of seeing if the other is a good match for marriage. Dating is much more casual.)

I think that Ganondorf would wait to strike at Sonia when it was least expected. Which would require time for the Hyrulean Royal Family to let their guards down. Which could take anywhere from a few months to a year.

Either way, by the time he kills Sonia, Ganondorf & Nemma are already married.

However, they actually went to Hyrule a week early so that Nemma could show Ganondorf her home village.

Almost as soon as she arrived, they were overrun by little Sheikah children all excited to see their old cooking teacher back.

It warmed the giant man's heart to see how readily children gravitated to his fiancée & how easily she handled them.

She introduced him as her fiancé. The man she was going to marry & it made his chest swell with pride.

He did find it unusual how he only really got a couple of curious glances from the residents.

Not to say there wasn't at least one racist asshole, but the real surprise was how quickly those in the village came to his defense despite only really knowing of him as Nemma's rather large intended.

Though, the looks he got from the warriors were far & above more suspicious. Not necessarily judgmental so much as cautious & knowing in a way that was different from the ordinary civilians.

Despite this, he actually got several hostile glances & he'd believed that they were judging him based upon his race. Imagine his surprise when he realized that it was only other men who did so. Ganondorf was actually somewhat embarrassed that he hadn't realized sooner that their hostility was fueled by jealousy rather than racism. Which actually caused quite the pep in his step.

Anyway, Nemma took him to her childhood home at the Rikoka Hills just north of Kakariko then introduced him to her grandmother, Ayamay, who was… spunky for an old gal. He was then taken to the graveyard to meet her grandfather, Takka, where he made an offering. Though he had met the man twice long ago, once when the elder man was interviewing him for the types of weapons he wanted & again when the gentleman delivered the Shōki series to him. But addressing him now somehow felt... different.

It was odd. Ganondorf remembered the old man requesting that he spar with some of his subjects so that he could get a good read of his capabilities & had then asked him to share a drink with him afterwards. The Gerudo had been confused, but the elderly blacksmith had simply said that he wanted to better understand what he was all about.

It'd been the first & only time that Gdorf had had a male drinking buddy. Of course, he didn't loosen up until several drinks in, but by that point, Takka had begun chatting about his family. Ganondorf remembered quite distinctly the man expressing a type of warm pride in his granddaughter. (The King had been internally nervous, but actually found it... nice...)

Ganondorf wondered... had the elder known that the Gerudo king would be marrying that same granddaughter, would he have approved?

Anyway, his stay in the village was… strangely pleasant. Though it was, indeed, quite slow there & he could see where Nemma's concerns lay.

Many of the younger generation were uninterested in the ways of the Shadow Warrior & instead showed the trademarks of inventors & researchers. Which, while admirable professions, it was also honestly quite depressing. He'd be greatly disappointed if this trend continued. (He couldn't even imagine the dread that would fill him if he noticed the same trends in the Gerudo.)

However, it was also fun to be able to practice his Sheikah with someone other than Nemma despite how wonderful of a conversationalist she was.

As for their stay at the capitol, Ganondorf was high-key racist against the Zonai & even Hylians to a degree & this fact becomes very evident to Nemma during their week visiting Rauru's palace upon the Great Plateau.

For all Ganondorf's belly-aching about entitled Zonai & Hylians, Nemma had only experienced such things around the upper class. Particularly, some of her least favored clients. In truth, much like with any other race, the common Hyrulean was fairly humble & easy to get along with. Though, again, that was fairly standard. Most of the higher-ups among the Gerudo were also quite entitled, just in a different way to those in Hyrule. Being more brash & blunt about it.

Though, in many ways, Nemma admitted that she honestly preferred the Gerudo elite's blunter & more honest, if rude, entitlement over the more snake-like, conniving egos of Hyrule's own wealthy elite. At least entitled Gerudo were straightforward when they thought themselves better than you &, the warrior race being what it was, if one of them said something that the Sheikah couldn't tolerate, it was at least considered perfectly acceptable to challenge whatever Vai insulted her to a duel. This is due to their Might Makes Right philosophy.

Such was not the case within Hyrulean society. Especially amongst the upper crust.

Anyway, surrounding the palace was a very small town where several Hyruleans lived.

(Insert some things they do during their stay at the capitol.)

---

I think their first real argument would happen while visiting Hyrule for Ganondorf's ruse. He'd have gone with her upon her hearing of a nearby Silver Lynel that was attacking a tiny hamlet. (While the Shrines of Light took care of most of the monsters in Hyrule, they couldn't seal away the more powerful ones. Nor the ones that weren't made of pure evil magic.) While not an innately altruistic individual, Nemma values children as a society's greatest treasure. To be protected at all costs. So, upon hearing how one of the Lynel's victims was a little girl, she'd dropped everything & ended the beast.

She & Ganondorf had returned to Castle Town where she was selling off the guts & half the hooves when Ganondorf made a quip about her serving the goat now & she'd rounded on him furious.

This would be witnessed by the Hylian Guards, who'd later inform Rauru, which would lead to him making some incorrect assumptions about Nemma's loyalties.

---

Anyway, the argument eventually loses steam once Nemma admits that the reason why she was so quick to take out that Lynel, was because she'd heard that it'd trampled a little girl to death.

To which, Ganondorf goes quiet. That, yeah, that made sense.

Lynels always were vicious...

Awkwardly, he draws close to her & places his massive hands upon her shoulders. Still not quite used to positive physical interaction.

"I..."

His mouth snapped closed. Why couldn't he do it?! It was just 2 simple words! Yes, apologizing was beneath him, but Nemma wasn't as she'd proven to him repeatedly! So, why couldn't he give her the slightest comfort??

He quickly buried the tiny voice in the back of his mind that said, ‘because no one has ever comforted me before; I don't know how…’ as it set his stomach churning.

Suddenly, the yàyai'làra (little warrior woman) places a tiny, callused hand upon his own.

"It's alright. I understand. You don't have to say it."

Ganondorf was suddenly flooded with a strange sensation of relief & a warm feeling that he still couldn't quite identify, but he was quickly beginning to associate it with the small woman. The sensation bloomed in his chest.

But that feeling was also followed by shame at not being able to say such simple words.

---

However, Nemma will also begin to expand Ganondorf's understanding of reality by unobtrusively questioning his beliefs.

N: "I suppose that I simply don't understand your fixation with Hyrule."

G: "Don't tell me that you actually agree with that old goat that peace is best."

Nemma would hum doubtfully before replying.

N: "Honestly? I don't think either of you are truly correct in whole."

This caught Ganondorf's attention.

N: "I believe that you are correct that the strong are forged in fire. After all, you can only forge a sword by pounding it into shape. However, I don't necessarily believe Rauru to be wrong for wishing for peace as well."

N: "Think of it this way, you as a warrior like I, know how a body becomes strong, yes? You train, but you don't train at all hours. To become strong, we cannot be expected to be forever in conflict. If we were, we would quickly lose stamina & die. Our muscles can only build upon themselves if we allow them the time to repair themselves. The same is true for everything. To become all that we can be, we need balance. Does that make sense?"

The Gerudo King hummed curiously as he took in her words. No one had ever explained it like that to him before.

When spoken like that, it made sense.

N: "Everything has its place, even chaos. I believe that by choosing just one, you both blind yourselves & begin to disregard the uses of the other. There is merit in chaos, but there is also merit in order. Life is in a constant state of flux & change. To behave otherwise would be to invite stagnation & entropy. So, if one were to always be at war, would that not also invite its own form of stagnation?"

G: "So, you see peace as a moment's rest between conflicts. A calm in the storm if you will."

N: "Something like that, I suppose. In a way, I think that war strengthens the body, peace hones the mind, & both refine the spirit, simply in different ways. You need both to be truly strong in more ways than just physically."

Her logic was sound… but it went against everything he'd ever been taught. A part of Ganondorf was resistant to the idea, but… he also couldn't fault her thinking.

He'd… have to think about this…

Normally, Ganondorf wouldn't even entertain the idea that peace had a place in his vision of a new kingdom. He is only really considering her words because, by now, he knows her to not be the sort who'd deceive him.

It seemed to him that she'd thought about this subject before.

An unfortunately familiar sense of anxiety settled into his stomach.

G: “But… How does one find purpose during such a calm when all one has ever known is conflict & struggle? What are warriors who have no war left to fight in?”

That was when he felt a hand gently placed upon his own. Starting for a moment, he looked down to see the magnificent, confusing woman's paradoxically strong, yet delicate hand upon his own. And he couldn't help how his own hand turned over to grasp hers in a loose grip almost automatically.

N: “Does the moon stop being the moon when it is daytime?”

G: *a small huff of a laugh* “I suppose not…”

In a way it was comforting.

N: “Correct. You & I, we will likely always have that warrior spirit within us, but it is not a cage that traps us nor chains that bind us. It is simply one aspect of our overall selves. And when that aspect is no longer of use for the moment, we become free to indulge in other aspects of ourselves & discover new ones.”

N: "Of course, that doesn't mean that we leave behind the other, for it is as much a part of us as anything else we unearth about ourselves."

Ganondorf was silent. Unusually contemplative. He'd have to think about this.

---

Anyway, during the course of their courting & engagement, I think that a small group of Gerudo will become jealous & try to find ways to get rid of Nemma, but it will always end in defeat. Some of which likely having been previous flings of Ganondorf's, or possibly even some of his Va'màziahen (concubines), which he'd let go not long after they became engaged.

But, even when these Vaien resort to poisoning her food, it'll fail as Nemma is a Dokuso Shokushei or Toxin Mistress. Which are Shadowfolk trained in the art of Dokusojutsu, including the creation, identification, & various uses (whether it be to kill or create medicines) of deadly toxins.

And one of the requirements for becoming eligible for taking the test to become a Toxin Master or Mistress is to complete toxin immunization training. This involves slowly ingesting small amount of toxic substances over time until you build up a resistance & immunity to them.

This is the tattoo that you get when you become recognized as such:

Not only is Nemma a certified & recognized Toxin Mistress able to quickly identify the signs of poison, but she has created a type of nail polish that reacts to the presence of toxic material by chemical reaction. As a result, it's become habit to swirl the tip of her finger in her drink & check her nails.

Even if she accidentally forgot to do this, in order to kill her, it'd have to be horrifically deadly & insanely fast-acting to actually kill her. We're talking cyanide levels of toxic & fast-acting here.

Otherwise, she'll be able to identify it almost instantly by a combination of smell, taste, & symptom, then manage to create an effective antidote very quickly.

Even then, if she identifies the poison as being something she's completely immune to, she'll likely just ingest it anyway as a sort of message that she isn't going anywhere before subtly being on the lookout for who exactly did it to begin with.

And when these Vaien outright challenge her, she very soundly beats them all. Which, honestly, Ganondorf finds effing hot. He quite enjoys watching Nemma absolutely destroying challengers to establish dominance, as well as her right to be at his side permanently.

And, as per the yandere trope, any Vaien (women, as in plural) who manages to survive through Nemma beating them, Gdorf later kills himself.

He can't have some surmúta (slut or harlot; a gender-neutral term) who wants his future wife dead running around, now can he?

(Just for reference, I see concubines & one-night stands being considered fine in Gerudo culture so long as you aren't married. The reason being that I see the Gerudo, just as a race, as being very exclusive with their romantic relationships & decently exclusive with who has access to their bodies. To them, infidelity is considered a taboo, right up there with pedophilia or beastiality or most other gross things that only mentally disturbed people do & is punishable by death. And open relationships are just an absolute no. Poly relationships do exist, at least technically to an extent. But only really in the form of throuples & even just having 2 partners is considered pushing it & such relationships are looked upon unfavorably. And, while there have been cases of quadrouples, it is extremely rare & very, very, very frowned upon. Not to mention the subject of ridicule. As such, the Gerudo's name for such relationships reflects their beliefs of how many people are acceptable as they are referred to as Zay’tzèxad’úl Màtu or “Two-Handed Love.” Meanwhile, ones with more people involved than that are referred to as Nïsavashorqīs Màtu meaning “Self-Destructive Love” or Harnī Múta meaning “Mad Lust” or Vashorqīs Múta meaning “Destructive Lust” or Dōrkàvt Múta meaning “Bondless Lust.”)

(And in Gerudo custom, when you begin courting, you are expected to get rid of your concubines/concubini. Period. End of story. If they aren't gone by the night before the wedding, you can expect some serious side-eye & many an unsavory rumor. Whenever the line of succession for the position of Gerudo monarch or chieftain was changed, a lot of the time, it was due to a revolt from the people after it came out that either the chief or one of the monarchs was unfaithful to their spouse.)

(Now, divorcing wasn't common & not something the Gerudo considered a good thing, but it was far & above preferred compared to infidelity. And courting & getting married again after a divorce or the death of a spouse, is considered totally fine & even natural... so long as it isn't too soon after...)

—

At some point, Nemma learns that the Gerudo's Spirit Temple seems to possess Mind's Eye adjacent iconography as well, & she later learns that Priestesses of the Gerudo Moon Goddess, Vah Amàhrta, are trained in the way of the Mind's Eye as well.

Knowing that there is someone who actively knows what they're doing in regard to such things, Nemma pleads to be taught. Which comes as to a surprise to both the Priestesses & Ganondorf.

It's only after she explains her fear that her people are losing their identity & that the Mind's Eye is part of said identity that they think on it before finally accepting.

Though, the Gerudo refer to the technique as the Euyinen al'Màh'è (Eyes of the Moon).

—

Later, I want a Keaton, whom I'll name Satoshi, to appear before Nemma & better teach her how to open her Mind's Eye due to how promising of a Sheikah warrior she is. As that is part of my hc about the Mind's Eye, the Keaton being sort of like guardian spirits to the Sheikah.

The reason it's necessary is that there are just some slight differences in how the Mind's Eye & Eyes of the Moon work.

For one, the Sheikah method revolves more around meditation, including philosophies such as IRL Kiko (basically the Japanese name for Qigong), Tummo, Aiki-Jūjutsu, yoga, activating the Chakrahs, & just overall spiritual growth & maturation. Which, Nemma won't initially vibe with, just due to how rational & practical she is, but she is determined to do this regardless.

She will end up finding merit in things like yoga, Tummo, & Aiki-Jūjutsu pretty quickly though as yoga promotes flexibility, Tummo teaches one how to control your own body temperature through meditation & controlled breathing, while Aiki-Jūjutsu blends together the styles of the passive, more spiritual, harmony, & healing focused Aikidō & the more harder hitting & aggressive style of Jūjutsu. In other words, promoting a balance. It also includes the art of Aikidō Atemi, which is pressure point striking & is something that Nemma would be very interested in as well as the Jūjutsu portion of the training.

Though, she'll initially have mixed feelings about learning Aiki-Jūjutsu as she'd never really learned any hand-to-hand, being more weapon-oriented. At the same time, she'll definitely see the merit in learning it. In all honestly, she's somewhat nervous about not doing well due to her inexperience.

That isn't to say that she will slack off or disregard the other parts of her training, but she will definitely show more vim & vigor when training in these specific parts until she's reached a point where she begins to truly appreciate the more spiritual aspects of the training.

The reason being the discovery that the reason why the Sheikah had begun to lose their warrior identity recently is, in part, due to losing their spiritual center as the Sheikah, just as a people, were created with a deep connection to the spiritual world. So, by losing that core aspect of themselves, they essentially lose themselves as well.

Even the ascetic training that Moz Koshia is currently going through has lost quite a lot of the old traditions by being more heavily influenced by Zonai/Hylian theology. The realization of this makes Nemma look at the ascetic training differently & begin to apply more seriousness to it.

For a while, she becomes bitter towards the Royal Family until Satoshi informs her that this spiritual degradation in the Sheikah's culture wasn't something that was done intentionally. It's just the way of things that cultures become influenced by other cultures & results in consequences. Some of said consequences can be very good, while others can be very bad. His point in informing her wasn't to discourage intercultural relations or hatred of the Hyrule Royal Family or Zonai, but rather awareness & an understanding of why some traditions come to pass.

In fact, not all traditions are good & some can even become very detrimental to the society & its people, thus needing to be abandoned for the sake of the overall culture. It was, in fact, the consequences of one of the Gerudo's own ancient philosophies that originally resulted in their female-only curse. Which very much interested Nemma, but Satoshi seemed to think that he said too much on the subject & promptly clammed up on her.

Anyway, she wouldn't necessarily need to reach enlightenment to activate the Mind's Eye but would at least need to open the Ajna Chakrah to master it. Which is good because, just as an individual, she wouldn't be able to let go of all earthly attachments anyway.

(For a more in-depth idea of the Mind's Eye, go here.)

There's also her needing to know how to teach these things to others in order to help keep her culture's traditions strong.

As Satoshi trains her, she'll be introduced to one of the Sheikah's ancient tasks: putting to rest the souls of the dead. This can be done either by playing the Song of Healing, which he'll teach her, or by "killing" them with a weapon forged with ancient Sheikah weaponsmithing techniques & inscribed with ancient Sheikah Fūinjutsu runes used specifically for this, known here as Sheishin Fūinjutsu (Spirit Sealing Method), taught to the Sheikah by Sheikaku, the old, forgotten god of death, spirits, & the moon who created the Sheikah several thousands of years ago. (Which you can see examples of Sheishin Fūinjutsu featured on both the Depths Set & the Dark Clumps in TotK.)

Afterwards, it was necessary to go through an ancient & sacred ritual on either the night of the Full Moon, New Moon, or either the Waning Crescent Moon or the Waxing Gibbous Moon &, if your work pleased Sheikaku & your prayers were honest, then he would bless your weapon.

In fact, he said that it was best to make the weapons in an actual forge considering how they are such holy places. Which caught Nemma's attention. She'd always known that there was something special about her home, but she'd never heard that it was holy. This led into a discussion of the spiritual aspect of swords in the ancient Sheikah culture.

But that's for later. Anyway, when a Poe Soul (the non-combative Poes you find in the Depths of TotK) gains too many potent negative emotions, it will rise from the Depths & manifest a body of pseudo-flesh made out of pure evil magic fueled by On'nen (怨念, a mix of hatred, grudement, malice, vengeance, & resentfulness that can consume spirits & make them furious or malicious & causes evil spirits to be even more so). That's what the Dark Clumps are. Solidified On'nenmahō (怨念魔法, on'nen magic) or On'nenmaryoku (怨念魔力, on'nen magic power), which is a part of a very specific, very evil branch of Yōki, called Jaki (邪気, evil energy).

And those strips of paper on them are sealing tags using Sheishin Fūinjutsu to keep the flesh from reconstituting into another problem.

These Enemy Poes can only be beaten by Light/Twilight or Spirit magic with a weapon blessed by a death a/o spirit god, which Sheikaku was both.

These same methods are also effective against other dead or undead enemies such as Stals, Redeads, & Gibdos, as well as Akuma (evil entities that are fueled by On'nen; basically, the non-animal monsters of the games such as Darknuts, Iron Knuckles, Lynels, ect).

Either way, Nemma will be excited to learn damn near all these things as they are right up her alley.

She'd reforge her Sheikatō for the purposes of having them blessed.

And, upon going to sleep after seemingly failing the ritual, Nemma woke to find herself on a grassy cliff overlooking a vast forest, looking up at the full moon.

Beside her sat a… being. He was very large (like, as large if not larger than Ganondorf), with silvery-white hair like her own, blue & red facial markings & four glowing silvery irises.

He gazed up at the moon before gazing down at the duel swords in his hand.

It was the Sheikatō that she'd forged & prayed for Sheikaku to bless.

He then turned to her & began to speak to her in SHS.

S: "It has been a long time since anyone has asked for me to bless a weapon. You did well."

S: "You… remind me of my sister, Karina… You even fight using similar weapons... I… miss her…" His expression seemed to become distant for a moment as he seemed to see something in her than she didn't know. Then his face shift to one of loss before returning to stoic.

S: "Use these Sheikatō to bring peace to those who are unable to obtain it on their own."

S: "We will meet again. However, you will not know that it is I & I will not know that it is you. Be safe &... I wish you good fortune with your other half…"

She then woke to find the Sheishin Fūinjutsu on her Sheikatō glowing faintly in rhythm like slow, dual heartbeats.

—

Nemma sometimes just marvels at how ridiculously tall all the Gerudo are, especially Ganondorf. She only reaches his elbows when standing with his arms at his sides. And it wasn't just his height that stunned her, but also his overall girth as a result of obviously intense training. He could probably crush a Hydromelon between his thighs!

Ganondorf, of course, noticed her staring fairly quickly, but didn't initially know why. It isn't until later when he overhears a conversation that Nemma had with her new yaidja (guardswoman) friend, Tïsàla, that he learns why.

He already has a bit of a size kink, so hearing the target of his attentions commenting, in awe, of his height gave him a bit of an ego boost. Then to hear her take notice of how much hard work he put into his body, left him positively preening.

He nearly laughed at the Hydromelon comment & wondered what she'd do if she actually saw him do that.

Either way, after hearing all that, he begins to make a bit of a habit of showing himself off around her whenever he notices her staring. Not to mention tending to make the effort to emphasize his full height & intentionally loom over her. The expressions she makes never fail to stroke his masculine pride & make him chuckle.

---

As mentioned above, I also see Ganondorf having a major size-difference kink. Gerudo Vaien are already taller than Human, Hylian, & Sheikah men, who themselves are taller than their feminine counterparts, so Gerudo Voen are even more so. As a result, Nemma would appear to be just so incredibly tiny & delicate to him. Almost like a porcelain doll that he could break without noticing if he wasn't careful.

Then, to learn that she was combat proficient enough that she nearly beat him in a one-on-one fight? It'd create the most satisfying juxtaposition in his mind. Small, but mighty. ♡

And he'd be the first she'd ever chosen to give herself to? 

Whoo! It would thrill him to no end!

However, I don't think that it'd start out as being a very healthy relationship. A main focus of the story is the 2 navigating around each other & learning to be a legitimately functional & healthy couple. Gdorf specifically learning how to let her in & be someone other than the King of Evil with her. Which is difficult for him to do as that's who his adï'vàman (adoptive mothers) raised him to be.

Which... I see them having issues with each other... Kōme & Kotake because I get the impression that they're just effing racist as shit as well as not liking the fact that this girl seems to be softening their boy up & Nemma because they seem to have beef with her & she's also getting distinct trauma bonding vibes from their & Ganondorf's relationship that really rubs her the wrong way.

Eventually, Nemma becomes one of the only people that Ganondorf is gentle & kind with. She becomes his soft spot & his safe space all-in-one.

Kōme & Kotake both seem to realize this & become determined to be rid of her. Which will eventually end up pitting them against Ganondorf.

---

Nemma has very spartan tastes, is independent, self-sufficient, & practical, as well as not generally being very materialistic or greedy, so she's not overly enthusiastic about jewelry unless they happen to double as something functional & isn't gaudy. (If she has to wear jewelry, she prefers the pretty, yet classy sorts.) Like rings that work well as knuckledusters or an earring with a Gossip Stone in it to communicate with someone long-distance or jewelry that uses crystomagy (gem enhancement infusion magic such as the Gerudo's Zennō style) to help with environmental obstacles such as heat or cold or heeled shoes that have blades for the heels or Kôgai that double as daggers like the ones she generally wears.

Ganondorf seems the type to try & shower her in expensive, extravagant, yet ultimately frivolous, gifts such as fine silks & ostentatious, glittering jewelry, which she'd find pretty, but rather worthless. She wouldn't really be impressed.

While she does enjoy pretty things, fashionable clothes, nice patterns, dressing up, & looking nice, she far & above prefers utility, practicality, & functionality over something that just looks nice. Clothes that are both fashionable & functional, even more so. So, to really impress her, Ganondorf would have to get her gifts that strike a balance between expensive, high-quality, & beautiful, as well as useful & battle ready to really get her attention. Not because she demands expensive things, but because Gdorf refuses to give her anything less than that. (He's got a lot of pride like that & can come across as sort of a snob as a result.)

As such, this might cause a tiny bit of friction between them initially. Nothing too serious, but it'll be there. It's just one of those things that they'll have to work around.

Anyway, once he's learned her preferences, Ganondorf will still give her extravagant gifts in public. Things like decorative vases, bejeweled tiaras, those sorts of things. However, those are more for the sake of keeping up appearances & Nemma knows this, so she doesn't mind. Doesn't necessarily understand, but she doesn't mind. He has a reputation to uphold after all.

However, the really important gifts that actually mean something, he tends to give to her in private. This is due to Nemma tending to do this as she doesn't really see a need for so much fanfare. Nothing she gives Ganondorf is for purely presentation, but rather it is always something she genuinely believes that he'll enjoy or, at least, will mean something significant to him. Which was a strange concept to him as most of the gifts he's ever been given were frivolous or superficial in nature.

Such gifts he'll give in private will include cookbooks, calligraphy supplies (which, Sheikah & Gerudo use similar tools to write, that being brushes instead of quills like many in Hyrule tend to), new weapons, maps, jewelry with gemstones that have been infused with magic to either act as a magical focus or to help overcome an environmental hazard, or better tools. Hell, even high-quality forging materials such as uncut gemstones & Dawasaaq iron from the Highlands Mine tends to get a giggle of excitement from her. Just things that she'd use or be interested in.

By the time they're married, he won't really make much of a fuss over clothes or extravagant jewelry anymore though. Rather, he'll just quietly switch out her clothes for the same thing, but with higher quality materials. Though, only if the higher quality would improve their usefulness.

Nemma is initially confused, if pleasantly surprised, before she notices her partner's curiosity, as though wanting something. She then quickly realizes what he'd done & proceeds to kiss him sweetly before thanking him. To which he smiles, an uncharacteristic tenderness in his eyes.

Anyway, she actually likes dressing up so long as she's still able to move freely, if it's not super extravagant to the point where it isn't practical or gaudy, & always has access to weapons, but if she has to dress very fancily, then she'll do it begrudgingly if the one asking her is someone she cares about. But she'd still require access to weapons. She refuses to go anywhere without some form of protection.

She'll likely have difficulty getting used to the Streshibpen (Gerudo-style heeled shoes with wing-like protrusions on the sides, as worn by Urbosa), but she's willing to give it a shot. However, she does require that the ones she owns have blades in the heels & steel toes so that if anyone sneaks up on her, she can show them what a bad idea that is.

Actually, has excellent taste in fashion & enjoys looking nice despite not indulging in her more feminine traits often. Mostly due to her father's rejection of her because of her sex. This resulted in her having a somewhat negative view of femininity even though she's aware that her opinion is likely influenced by her father. Living in close proximity to Gerudo will likely help her to become on better terms with her own femininity.

Nemma has also begun to take up lapidary so that she'll always have access to the right gem.

And, while she's not an extremely jewelry-focused girl (though, she'll always take time to admire high-quality work), she knows that jewelry is a symbol of many things amongst the Gerudo, from financial power to luxury to status & even just good taste, so she likes to make Ganondorf little things every once in a while. Which, she finds it funny that he likes jewelry more than her & sometimes teases him about it.

However, she didn’t know that gifting your significant other with jewelry that you made yourself was actually the traditional way for Gerudo to propose until she gave her then husband at the time one. At which point he’d looked at her oddly then inquired if she understood the significance of the action, then informing her. Of course, being the somewhat mischievous individual that she was, she’d then spun the situation around on him by telling him that, “well, I’m honestly not particularly inclined to cease such habits, so perhaps it’s time to expand upon such a tradition?”

The king looked at his queen rather curiously. Nemma gave him as rare smile, “simply receive it as my way of informing you that ‘I would marry you all over again if I could.’” At which point, the large man’s heart leapt in his chest, a flush dawning his cheeks as she leaned in to give him a sweet peck on the rosy flesh before promptly walking off. As though she hadn’t just melted his cold heart with a single sentence. A minute or 2 after she’d left, he clutched the piece in his hand, looking at it before his surprised expression melted as warmth filled his chest.

And true to her word, the Sheikah woman had continued to make him jewelry & each & every time, he found himself recalling her words & cherishing them just a little bit more. It’s due to this that her semi-joke actually became grounded in reality as even 10,000 years later, Gerudo Vaien have continued to follow her example (though, somewhat altered by time) by giving their husbands handmade trinkets as not all Hylian men seem fond of jewelry. And when faced with a problem, you adapt. So, now, handmade jewelry is for proposal, but handmade items, clothes, & trinkets are now also used to showcase a reaffirmation of love.

Anyway, back to the story, the jewelry that Nemma makes for him is never anything excessive or too overly fancy, but it manages to strike that perfect balance between ostentatious, dashing, & classy.

She likes to practice all the Gerudo patterns that she'd learned, sometimes even mixing on a few Sheikah patterns as a subtle way of staking her claim on him. Which Ganondorf absolutely notices & it always makes him smile seeing the little Sheikah iconography adorning his regalia. It became a tiny bit of a game between them: Find the Sheikah symbol.

(A/N: Which there really doesn't seem to be much of beyond the various iterations of the Mind's Eye pattern.)

He likes to wear the jewelry she makes for him & one of his favorites is the brow ornament that she made. It had runes engraved in the back that allowed it to stick tight to his forehead, which made it less intrusive in battle. This was part of why he generally didn't wear a crown as he didn't like the idea that an opponent could take advantage of that.

But this battle crown of sorts erased such a possibility, so he found himself wearing it regularly.

It was quite the attractive work. Made of gold & in the shape of the sun with a large Sunstone embedded in the center.

(A/N: I changed it slightly so that the flowers along the basket matches the colors of Ganondorf's haori's lining. And, while you can't see it, the circles around that basket as part of the "S" border pattern actually have tiny little Sheikah eyes inside them. They're so small that, if this were a real piece of jewelry, you'd likely have to use a magnifying glass to see them, but they're there.)

(See? It isn't really something that's important, so much as I just wanted to put it in there. Also, it'd mystify the hell outta Ganon as he tries to puzzle out how the absolute eff she managed to do it.)

---

During their courtship, the most useful gifts that Ganondorf gives her is a well-trained horse, a well-trained Sand Seal, & a well-trained Sand Cat or Gel'gàtï.

The horse is actually one of Rauru's white stallions. Ganondorf stole it. Nemma jokingly named him Old Cabrón, which Cabrón is a triple-layered joke. It's a Zonai name meaning "goat," but Zonai often use it to call each other asshole.

The fact that she named one of Rauru's white stallions this after it was stolen, is a pretty obvious & cheeky jab that has Ganondorf breathless with laughter when it clicks. (And a little bit of a sassy take that. Though I don't see Rauru as the type to get offended. In fact, I see him doing a spitake before laughing heartily. Even appreciating the well-thought out pun. We stan dad joke-loving Rauru in this house. Though, he might keep the fact that his people had more in common with felines to himself in order to avoid ruining the joke.)

Old Cabrón is mostly only for the Royal Envoy. Ya know, presentation. When she's in Hyrule for an actual bounty or hit job, she uses her grey dappled mare, Mira, meaning "beautiful storm." Her coat is a stormy grey with lighter grey dappling & muzzle.

While Old Cabrón is well-trained, at least as a show pony, he really doesn't do well in conflict.

Mira, however, while not specifically a war horse, will let herself be lead across water to ford rivers & won't immediately run in the presence of monsters. So, that makes her more valuable as a mount, but her appearance isn't the best impression as far as royalty.

The pair usually end up staying at the Canyon Stable with Ganondorf's steed, Jawàrik. Named after an old Gerudo god of war.

I do think it'd be funny if Jawàrik & Cabrón ended up fighting each other over Mira & she ends up mating both & having a pair of heteroparental colts.

All that special breeding, wasted because of one dapple gray mare! XD

Anyway, Nemma would still use Mira fairly often when completing bounties in Hyrule.

The Sand Seal is a sweet & happy bull that Nemma names Yukio, to mean "joyful boy." It turns out that he's from the same litter as Ganondorf's own Sand Seal, Gàlondo. Named after another old Gerudo god of war. This one, theologically speaking, having been the son of Jawàrik. (Gdorf quite enjoys mythology in case you haven't noticed. Specifically, the mythology of his own race. Though, he's also become rather interested in Sheikah mythology as well lately.) Gàlondo is quite a bit quieter & more stoic than his younger brother. He's also somewhat bigger. Their dynamic is basically quiet, aloof cat & silly, happy, affectionate cat. Gàlondo tolerates his brother's antics.

Ganondorf's final extremely useful gift was a sweet, yet sassy little Sand Cat that Nemma names Chika, for intelligence & wisdom.

Sand Cats are very small, even compared to most house cats, but also deadly hunters & trackers. Making them useful for hunting & are also very wonderful, affectionate, if sassy companions. Their size & unusually long claws allows them to perch easily upon the shoulders of Gerudo even when sand surfing. They are mostly a sandy color with white underbellies & spots not unlike that of a cheetah in real life. Chika ends up being sort of Nemma's silent bodyguard & goes damn near everywhere with her when out of the palace. She can often be found either perched on Nemma's shoulder with ears & eyes alert or curled up in her lap.

This makes Chika & Yukio the ideal companions for Nemma whenever she wishes to explore the desert.

Ganondorf also goes along with Nemma whenever he gets the chance. Partly to keep his skills sharp & party to keep his love safe. He wouldn't be able to do it always, but he'd try to do so whenever he could & he was always welcome.

Mira, though, is gentle & sweet with a surprisingly strong will. Jawàrik is stern & grumpy, as well as being well-trained as a war horse. As for Old Cabrón, he's... a little bit of a diva, but isn't difficult to deal with otherwise. Imagine if Maximus had Eugene's personality. (Both from Tangled.)

So, Nemma definitely has quite the menagerie going on at this point.

Nemma also already has a carrier hawk named Dantey that she's been using to correspond with her grandmother back in Kakariko & had been training as a battle hawk. He & Chika get on surprisingly well. At the same time, Chika & Yukio also get along very well, while Dantey was initially somewhat put off by the large seal's enthusiasm, but much like Gàlondo, will eventually begin to tolerate him before learning to like him & even fuss over him.

Not that Ganondorf gives her all these animals at once.

—

One of Nemma's many duties as queen will involve dancing & it's especially important for her wedding day. However, dancing just isn't something she'll have ever even thought about before beyond for festivals. At the same time, due to it being part of her responsibilities, she'll put her all into it as she is an extremely responsible individual who takes duty very seriously.

While, initially, she won't be very quick to learn, that will change once Tïsàla, her guard friend, brings up the idea of al'Tàrren'è al'Saadïdjéda (the Guarding Dance of the Crescents), the Gerudo style of self-defensive scimitar swordfighting that utilizes dance in its movements. She'll naturally gravitate more towards al'Yusréda'vùnen'è al'Dïnatàrr style (the Crescent Dance of the Rushing Winds), which involves dual-wielding scimitars, rather than al'Forzumàh'è al'Dïnatàrr style (the Crescent Dance of the Moonflower), which substitutes one scimitar for a shield.

Upon being able to correlate dancing to fighting, she goes from struggling to excelling as though everything suddenly clicks into place inside her head. After which, she quickly begins enjoying herself & is able to apply those same ideas to her regular dance lessons. Though, she'll always be most comfortable with a weapon in her hand, she does grow to appreciate regular dancing as well.

Already she was beginning to think of how she could integrate the fighting style into her pre-existing one, which she believes will grant her more fluidity, flexibility, & dynamism as Sheikah Kenjutsu tends to be very direct, much like herself. She quite likes the dervish-like movements.

After getting confident enough with dancing on her own, Ganondorf is brought in to help her learn to dance as a pair.

It's now something they both very much enjoy doing together.

---

Nemma has a do-it-myself-personally sort of attitude & this results in her being seen as a lone wolf type. When something needs to be done & everyone else is too busy wasting time trying to figure out an over-complicated strategy to deal with it, (if she deems it necessary) she'll just go & deal with it herself.

That isn't to say that she's rash or doesn't think. Quite the contrary, she's extremely intelligent & strategic, but she's also best at on-the-fly planning & is just an overall decisive individual.

99.99% of the time, her missions end in success even if she comes back somewhat injured.

However, this will tend to stress Ganondorf out quite a bit because he, just as an individual, is very controlling & worries about her.

This will end up being their second real argument.

Regardless of how the argument ends, Nemma will have to learn to trust & work together with others more & Ganondorf will have to learn to be less controlling.

---

One way that Nemma does this is by cooking for & with others as this was one of her most fondly remembered ways of bonding with her grandmother. She actually gets along well with the cooks & though shocked that their king's fiancée was gracing them with her presence, they respect her do-it-myself attitude. They are also extremely interested in the many, many different recipes she's learned from all over & some are even interested in hearing the history & cultural significance behind those dishes. She quickly makes friends with one of the chefs, Nīra.

Ganondorf, despite having initially been against her cooking her own meals, believing it to be the work of servants, he quickly shuts up upon actually trying her cooking.

He ends up loving it & begins to try to cook with her to bond. But it turns out that he's terrible at it. (Which he's honest enough with himself to recognize.)

However, Nemma is patient & encouraging with him. Teaching comes naturally to her as she used to teach the Kakariko children how to cook as well as about the history behind certain dishes & which ingredients give the best results.

One of her great joys is learning new dishes from where she travels, as well as the history behind them. The Sheikah refer to it as Bunka Bishoku. In real life, it is called cultural gastronomy.

Nemma now cooks for them almost every night. Though not during royal functions, of course.

---

While, normally, the Dai Kaiten Giri (Great Spin Attack) is a mobile spinning attack with great reach when using most swords.

Nemma finds that when utilized with the Yusréda'vúnen'è al'Dïnatàrr style & Shim'tàrren (scimitars), the attack's aura extends upwards into a cone-shape much like a tornado.

The attack is still mobile, but this way is much more controllable than what is normally expected of the usually indiscriminant attack.

This is an extremely rare & difficult technique to master as it requires fighting & killing 20 Darknuts & obtaining their Knight's Crests. In Gerudàn, it's called Dāgàl'zôba Ūsub (Great Sand Tornado Technique).

—

As for the wedding, if you think that grandma wasn't invited to the wedding, then you are sadly mistaken. (Nemma's father & mother definitely weren't. Even though she has insecurities revolving around them, she's long since stopped agonizing over them or trying to gain their favor. Seeing them as not worth the effort.)

The first time she visited, no one knows how, but that little old lady managed to put the fear of the Goddesses into Ganondorf without even making a single open threat. All done with a passive aggressive, yet sharp, clipped tone & subtle, but targeted insinuations as to what would happen to him & his family jewels if he ever broke her grandbaby's heart. After all, where did he think Nemma learned about toxins?

(She also sees the green tint to his complexion & knows what it indicates for a Gerudo. The young may have forgotten, but stories of such practices still persist in the form of grim ghost stories.)

(She knows that the man & those 2 horrid crones all 3 practice the dark arts. She doesn't know whether or not they do so now, but she knows they at least did at one point in their lives. Black magic just leaves a sort of stain on the body, as if to warn those around them. Much like how poisonous frogs come in vivid colors to show that they are dangerous. Of course, it manifests differently within Hyruleans. Causing them to go a deathly pale. Much like corpses. Which causes her to wonder, albiet briefly, if Gerudo turn green in death rather than white? If so, she wonders what causes it.)

(And while she's never fought Gerudo witches or warlocks, she's had to kill numerous Hyrulean ones.)

(Ayamay never thought that her grandbaby would ever meet one after the purges so long ago, but here they were. It's a good thing that she'd had that seal applied to the dear at a young age just in case. If nothing else, it'd keep all but the darkest & most powerful of black magics from taking hold. Which she may need if she's to live with a pair of witches who obviously despise her.)

(Looks like she was moving to the desert.)

After she left the room, Ganondorf glanced subtly at the cup in his hand before dumping its contents into a nearby plant pot. Until he's granted the old woman's favor, he's hyper aware of food & drink. What he doesn't know is that she'd never dream of poisoning anything her grandbaby made. The last time she did that, Nemma had been so upset! (Not that the young man needed to know that. A bit of squirming might do him some good. She could tell that he was pretty big in his britches.)

Best part is, Ganondorf couldn't even confront her on it without looking like a paranoid idiot because, as I said, she was very subtle.

Even though Nana's a homemaker, she was actually a Sheikah warrior herself when she was in her prime. And quite the formidable one at that. (She's also the one who taught Nemma how to use a Jōhyō as it'd been her main weapon of choice. Though, the Jōhyō Han Kote that the younger generation (including Nemma) prefers was never something she could figure out for whatever reason.)

(Never could figure out where her idiot son had gotten such dumbass ideas into his head either, but Sacred Realm knows he regretted it when she got her hands on the boy! Also, she may or may not have hunted down her daughter-in-law like a dog & threatened her to either go back & be an actual mother or to start running far, far away & praying to Hylia that Ayamay never sees her near her grandbaby again, because if she did, there wouldn't be enough left of the woman to fill a knife box!)

Anyway, later Ayamay ushered Ganondorf to the side & informed him of the Hōchō-Kaku (knife block) he was expected to gift her grandbaby. To which, he was surprised, but hearing of the tradition, he asked how one was expected to obtain such an object. She then began to teach him how to whittle, which was a task in & of itself. While he could've simply had one commissioned from a Kakariko woodworker, he appeared determined to do this himself. He knew that, as a craftswoman, Nemma would appreciate the effort that would go into the creation of such a traditional item.

That was when the old woman first decided that she liked this boy. She was fairly competent at woodworking herself, though not professional. Ayamay recommended that he make it a Mamena-Kaku (knife block for a professional chef) & line the compartments with whetstone. Either way, the next time she visited, she brought the schematics for a Mamena-Kaku with her & Gdorf spent the next several months until the wedding learning how to work with wood & build this knife block.

In the end, it was pretty damn decent & the outside seemed to be somewhat decorative featuring a melding of Gerudo & Sheikah designs, though he never wanted to do that again. Luckily, there weren't any other such marriage traditions for the Sheikah.

The little old lady had since moved out of Kakariko to live with them. Which honestly shocked Ganondorf, as he figured the aged woman would quickly die of heatstroke, but Ayamay's a tough old biddy. Besides, it wasn't like she had anything left for her in Kakariko besides her good-for-nothing son & her husband's grave, which she could still visit 2 times a year. Once on the anniversary of her husband's death & once in fall for the Sheikioku Festival. (A Sheikah festival that's a mix of a Tsukimi Festival, Obon, & Dia de los Muertos. It's a week of basking in the beauty of the night & celebrating life so that the spirits of their ancestors do not worry for them & linger longer than they need to, but the final night, always on the last lunar bookend phase of the season, whether the full moon or the lunar eclipse, is dedicated to visiting the graveyard, paying respects to one's ancestors, & leaving them offerings of foods & drinks that they'd enjoyed in life.)

Funnily enough, Ayamay ends up becoming bitter enemies of Ganondorf's adoptive mothers. Outwardly, they're the sort that results in cutting remarks & snippy, backhanded comments. Like actual old ladies.

(But behind closed doors, the 2 witches plot ways to kill both Sheikah women with Ayamay foiling their every course of action via old witch-hunting tricks.)

They despise each other.

And in many ways, Ganondorf eventually finds a real mother figure in her. (Once she realizes that he's every bit as much of a victim of Kōme & Kotake's crimes as anyone, that is. Doesn't stop him from being Ganondorf & making rotten decisions, but Ayamay hopes that by providing him with what he'd needed growing up, a loving mother, she might be able to gray him more. She always was the more conniving one in their little family.) One who's only expectation of him is to treat her granddaughter well. Which... is oddly comforting... & in a lot of ways, he has difficulty figuring out what to do with that. (Not that he shows it ever. He just isn't a very well-adjusted individual & was sorely lacking in a father figure growing up, which doesn't show itself often, but when it does, the sheer absence of positive male role models in his life will become extremely apparent. It must've been remarkably isolating & very confusing to grow up as a boy in an all-female society.)

---

As for Ganondorf's wedding attire, go here for a rundown.

And to learn about Gerudo wedding traditions, go here.

---

The Desert Gerudo tend to tell stories through dance & it is tradition for a married couple to give a brief dance performance detailing their journey to marriage during the festivities after the actual wedding.

Due to the unusual way that Ganondorf & Nemma got together, they opt for a just as unusual wedding dance by choosing to start off with a Sàl'dïnatàrr Zaydahànt (a performative scimitar dance duel) which is normally reserved for portraying epic battles.

They managed to portray both fierceness, curiosity, romance, & eventual lust with appropriate nuance & even subtlety in the case of that last part.

Then, they'd sheath their swords to begin a normal Zayda (sort of a pas de duex). They showed themselves seeming to tiptoe around each other while also testing the waters. Not necessarily stumbling, but (purposefully) catching each other by "awkwardly" stepping on each other's feet or "accidentally" kicking the other in the legs. All while still managing to appear graceful.

But they quickly settle into easy fluidity before performing more complex & romantic steps that require more cooperation & synergy. And they even find themselves getting caught up in each other.

It's a delight to behold.

---

One other thing of note was that the Sheikah use dye to imprint the wife's first steps into her new home after marriage. Which she did.

---

Anyway, Nemma's wedding gift to Ganondorf was a custom 2-handed sword, designed for his specific size, that she made herself using the same techniques that she'd used to make her own as well as the ones that she'd learned while in the desert.

Though, instead of Zoridium-Dawasaaq steel like what she used to replace the blade of the Namikaze no Odori, she used pure Dawasaaq Steel from the Gerudo Highlands as the steel from the desert doesn't seem to be nearly as pure as that from the Highlands. Again, Dawasaaq steel is the best for blade creation. Though, for some reason, it's only the iron & titanium deposits that have this problem. Everything else mined in the desert, especially the jeweler's metals, are very high quality. Gold, silver, platinum, & even copper are all extremely pure.

Anyway, then she melted a Silver Lynel Saber Horn as well as a Flame Gleeok Horn into the metal, then folded liquified Ruby into the blade just like she did with the Emeralds to make her own blade's ripples. The blade itself was thinner, wider, & more curved than a traditional katana with a darker color & the crossguard was based on a shim'tàrr'jï (scimitar's) design & made of a titanium-gold alloy with the Gerudo writing for Hellfire, "Fa'gáron," decorating the blade's edge & had polished Onyx or Black Pearl for the pommel. There was also the image of either Volvagia, Dinraal, or Dragondorf (I can't decide which) etched into the side of the blade along the false edge, stretching from hilt to point with the tail pointed towards the hilt. The image will start small at the hilt & slowly get bigger at the point, its mouth opened wide to show off its teeth. Finally, the grip was of katana design, if curved like a shim'tàrr'jï, & wrapped with Shadow Lizalfos leather. (Think of a mix of a Scimitar & a Dadao. And Shadow Lizalfos are just something I made up. They're basically just Lizalfos with a darkness element.)

This is how it looks, just minus the dragon etching:

It has 165 base damage & with a one-word command, the edge of the blade would be lit ablaze with shadowy flames.

It was based on the blueprints of a traditional Gerudo weapon that she'd found in the massive ruin of what was, unknown to her, the ancient Temple of Spirit, dedicated to the worship of the Goddess of the Sand, while exploring the desert. The closest that she'd seen to it were their shim'tàrren (scimitars), but this would be too large to hold with only 1 hand the way that shim'tàrren were, even for a large man like Ganondorf, but not so large that he couldn't wield it with 2. So, it was likely meant for 2-handed combat much like the katana & Golden Claymore were. Yet entirely different & made for more fluid movements than a Golden Claymore would allow. True, she'd made a couple of personal additions, but that was more to improve the sword's overall capabilities. Over 90% of the blade's design remained faithful to the image she saw.

It was really a work of genius. She wondered who originally came up with the design.

She'd only just begun learning Gerudo, but she'd at least memorized their codex. The sword was called a "shim'shïr." (The name being based on a Shamshir, but the form being more in line with, as mentioned above, a Scimitar & a Dadao.) Nemma thinks that this could be an ancient, lost Gerudo weapon from long before the arrival of the Zonai.

Back to Gdorf, they both revealed their gifts, Nemma's the sword & Ganondorf's the Mamena Hōchō-Kaku. Upon initially receiving the sword, he'd been... stunned... While receiving gifts was no unusual thing for him as a king. Those tended to be with the intent of receiving his favor or showcasing their own gift-giving prowess.

It was the genuineness & obvious hard work & dedication behind the gift that gave him pause. The painstaking quality of the work itself was simply exquisite & he knew that such a work of art comes from a place of deep passion & love for what one does. Such dedication makes their work positively sing.

Yet, instead of presenting it to him in front of his court, which would have surely gained her accolades, she simply gave it to him in their chambers alone & had seemed rather flustered, even nervous which despite the short time they've known each other, he already knew was unusual for her. Though, she held it together well & remained mostly stoic, she couldn't hide it from his keen eyes trained to find & exploit weaknesses. The barest dusting of rose had bloomed delicately upon her tanned cheeks. Which he was forced to admit, was a very attractive color on her.

The blade, her work, meant a lot to her & in a way, she was giving him power over her simply by showing him that his opinion mattered to her. (Whether she's in love by this point or not is up to the writer, but she definitely at least has a major crush.)

Quite simply, she is obviously hoping that this marriage could eventually come to be built on something he wasn't yet sure he was capable of giving her.

And, for the first time in his life, he did not wish to exploit the power he'd just been given so freely & readily, as his instincts willed him to. He... He respected her... And when was the last time he could say something like that?

"I respect you too & thank you. Sheikah iconography, but in a Gerudo style. They seem to synergize oddly well. And the whetstone interior was a clever touch."

Snapping back out of his daze, their eyes met, contact made. He must've said that out loud. Then what she said registered & Ganondorf suddenly felt bashful watching her fondly trace the etchings he'd carved into the knife block's surface with so much care.

He hadn't felt so awkward since... well, puberty. How could he handle such genuine honesty?

Nàkah (fuck), his face was heating up... Gdorf quickly turned away to hide the evidence of his emotions. He was glad that she liked his gift though...

Upon inspection, the blade channeled his magic wonderfully & was much more fluid in its use than the Golden Claymore. Not to mention, much deadlier. While his main weapon was a Katana, this sword was…

The blade quickly became his favored weapon. He named it Fa'gáron'jï Bojaqàr'è. Or Hellfire's Shadow.

---

That night, Ganondorf & Nemma were to bathe together in order to get used to each other's body. It wasn't uncommon in Gerudo society for new couples to experience their first times together while bathing.

However, this particular pair managed to hold off until they were clean & got to bed.

That night was full of tender passion. While this would be their first time fully committing the act together, they've made out & engaged in heavy petting before.

And have certainly caused each other to discharge, but this would be different.

*Riske Content Warning*

It took some serious stretching, but she took him wonderfully. And they ended up both seeing stars despite Ganondorf being far more experienced.

Honestly, he really shouldn't have fit at all, yet somehow he had. Ganondorf suspects that his little bride might have a hidden talent for sex magic, which is an extremely rare magic to begin with. Otherwise, he would've likely only fit about half to 2/3 of the way.

At some point, he finds himself caging her in, her nails & heels digging into his back in a way that heated his blood. She wailed as her core fluttered around him, her hips arching up to meet his own.

Before it finally came to a shuddering, climactic end, hips stuttering as he bit deep into her shoulder to keep himself from screaming too loudly.

*End of Riske Content*

It left them both panting & sweaty as their highs deescalated.

Of course, that would only be the first of many rounds that night.

---

This isn't to say that their sex will always be this tender & sweet. Both can be very rough & sometimes crave more force.

Sometimes, they can get downright wild.

Nemma especially knows when she's in for a wild night when Gdorf looks at her like a predator stalking its prey.

The sharpness in his eyes, like he's going to eat her, always gets her going.

And, for whatever reason, Nemma loves being chased by him. Sometimes, she'll see that look in his eye & playfully run off, out of the encampment, beckoning him to pursue. She could easily lose him (though, not for long), but most times, she just wants a bit of cat & mouse before the main event.

Most times, she'll let him catch her.

But when she's really looking for some fun, she'll put him through his paces & make him actually track her down. May even have him fight her & wrestle her to the ground. Oftentimes, during those fights, she'll take moments to cop a feel & get him even more riled up.

Those times always end with the most hedonistic sex that has them filling the desert with sound until sunup.

---

Once she's managed to gain enough experience, Nemma will eventually be able to find ways to legitimately dominate Ganondorf both subtly & overtly. Especially with all the advice given to her by Tïsàla & Nīra.

Not that this is the sort of thing that would happen often. But even Ganondorf could admit that the wanton pleasure & the sight of his bride so dominant over him, was worth letting go of a little power for just a bit.

At first, he was surprised, then uncomfortable. Not that he was ever unaware of the sorts of things that his subjects got up to with foreign men when outside the Gerudo Encampment (as the only one of the Gerudo with a permanent home was Ganondorf, while the rest had tents).

He was also aware of Tïsàla's... reputation as a born vàsitulïxàmba (a vai who is a dominatrix, but it isn't her job & she does it for fun & always with consent). Before vo'màzren & their vàsitulïxan were disbanded, he had been contemplating forcing her into the position of paid vàsitulïxa as she'd always rejected the offer when asked.

Now, though, it seemed that her talents had landed herself a voe who, while traditionally masculine by Hyrulean standards, was a switch & didn't seem to mind the rough play or the use of stolkén. (Don't ask.)

The very idea that Nemma could... use that... on him? He... he'd never really thought about it before...

He... wasn't sure? Just the thought of it seemed to heat his blood, but he couldn't help the shame that painted his face red at the idea of letting anyone have so much control over him.

It makes him feel hot in the "this is so wrong, but so effing hot & I kinda wanna try it once" kind of way.

---

Also, brushing each other's hair & bathing together are very relaxing & intimate bonding experiences for them. It is a Gerudo tradition for married couples to bathe together & wash each other.

Funny enough, they both secretly adore & admire each other's hair for different reasons, wishing that their own was like their spouse's. Ganondorf often compares Nemma's to spun silk that he could spend hours running his fingers through despite the split ends that he regularly finds at the beginning of their marriage. Meanwhile, Nemma admires how easy Gdorf's is to work with, not to mention how much volume & body it has, while also managing to be thick & strong much like the mane of a horse. (Though, Gerudo hair oils seem to be doing wonders for her own & living in one spot allows her to take better care of her hair. So, no more split ends!) She loves gently pulling all his hair into a long, thick braid before bed.

As for Ganondorf, he absolutely frickin' loves the feel of his wife's hands in his hair. Her fingers gently scratching his scalp does wonders for his stress levels & once he's grown to completely trust her, then if he's not careful, he's liable to fall asleep in her arms, an oddly content little smile across his lips as he snoozes.

I also hc that the Sheikah have a war strategy game that's basically Pai Sho from Avatar & that it's one way that they end up bonding.

---

Anyway, as they grow closer, it'll come to Ganondorf's attention that Nemma actually has a knack for ruling & he finds himself able to delegate some of his duties to her without worry, which takes a great deal of weight off of his shoulders that he hadn't realized was there before. Though, she's admittedly much more merciful than him. While both rule with iron fists, hers is sheathed in a silk glove. This results in the Gerudo quite liking her.

They begin to refer to her as their Vàmàh Vai'àtta, or Moon Queen. Some even speculate that she may be the vessel of Amàhrta, the Gerudo Goddess of the Moon, Mirrors, Dreams, Visions, & Prophecy. (It's bs, but there are certainly quite a lot of coincidences that end up perpetuating the rumor even though it's false. As a result, her subjects have gifted her with silver & moonstone jewelry & moonlight scimitars of varying qualities.)

---

I also think that they'd love sparing fairly frequently. Literally the highlight of their week. Though, it's sort of like foreplay to them & tends to end rather... carnally...

The first time Nemma had him on his back, the sharpened edge of her Sheikatō pressed to his throat, he shivered. Her steely, indigo stare shifted for but a moment in disbelief before shifting back to that battle-hardened glare.

Ganondorf's heart suddenly skipped a beat. What was this feeling?

Of finally finding an equal?

On the one hand, he was angry at having been bested, even by his own wife. On the other, he'd never been harder in his entire life. It was like finally meeting someone who was truly on his level. He had... never felt more seen before...

What was this thrill of meeting one who could catch him so off guard, yet does not see him as less?

This humbled awe? Is this what Nemma had felt when he first bested her? 

If so, then he could see now why she had so readily agreed to marry him.

Finding someone that he could fight at his best & would give the same in return.

Who saw both his virtues & his flaws, yet did not turn away in disgust or fear or hatred.

It was… intoxicating…

Ganondorf decided then, that this woman was worthy of his weak moments. Worthy of not seeing him always at his best.

He wanted her. Hotly & with relish.

Then, the white-haired yailàra (warrior woman by trade or occupation) leaned down & Gdorf knew that she was claiming her prize. He gave a shuttering breath just before their lips met in a searing kiss.

*Riske Content Warning*

Her hips ground against the bulge in his sirwàl.

Even as she rode him, hard & fast, her blade remained pointed at his throat. Ganondorf couldn't help the thrill he got at being forced to remain still & just take what she gave him.

Of course, it'd taken damn near everything in her to pin him down even once in a straight one-on-one fight & that was mostly due to catching him off guard. She won't get many more chances like this, so she endeavors to relish it while she could. She made sure to milk him dry. Thoroughly.

*End of Riske Content*

They both knew that he could break away or escape at any moment, but he obviously didn't want to.

—

After a long day of work, Nemma likes to lay on Ganondorf's chest & relax. He'll often have his arms wrapped loosely around her & hum quietly as he runs his fingers over her back.

She'll frequently respond in kind & proceed to snuggle into him. Sometimes they'll even take short naps like that.

---

At some point, in order to show that she's trying to be better about trusting others & working with them, Nemma will make a pair of Gossip Stone Earrings, giving Ganondorf 1 while she keeps the other. This is her way of trusting him. So that if she ever runs off like that again, he'll always be able to reach her.

Here they are. Not sure which ones I prefer.

Yes, he can absolutely see a tactical advantage to making a large number of these earrings & giving them to his soldiers, but at the same time, he is a selfish man & this was his wife's attempt at making things right between them. He wanted to keep this special.

They never take their respective earring off. Ever. Period.

It's just... such a comfort to have their spouse's heartbeat in their ear at all times.

---

Nemma knows what her husband wants to do, knows he wants to conquer Hyrule, but before that, she brought up the idea of using Hyrule's resources to put his tribe in a better place beforehand.

This seems to make Gdorf smile slyly & complement her on her deviousness.

From this moment until the time that Ganondorf chooses to steal the Secret Stone, they will be utilizing Hyrule to build the foundations for what will become Gerudo Town later on.

By the time that he kills Sonia, the palace (with 2 thrones specifically), outer walls, aqueducts, sewers, training ground, the shelter, & a forge will be finished. However, the rest of the town, such as homes & businesses will not be built until much later. As a result, the rest of the Gerudo tend to sleep in the shelter at night & use the empty space in the walls for important work tents such as the food tent, weaving tent, medical tent, etcetera.

This way, the Gerudo have a permanent place to take shelter.

Beforehand, the Gerudo would use a canopy tent to forge their weapons, jewelry, & armor & despite their skill at making weapons, this made forging reliant on the weather. At least, even more so than normal.

As soon as the forge was finished, Nemma began to work. One of many things that she made was a Gyuto-Bōchō for Nīra & the other cooks each, having been teaching them the basics of Santoku. They were all absolutely thrilled as they'd all heard of the incredible versatility & usefulness of such Sheikah kitchen knives.

You haven't lived till you've seen a small group of 7-8 foot tall women hopping up & down & shouting with joy like a bunch of teenage girls. It's fucking adorable!

Also, Ayamay had begun to help out in the cooking tent too. (After retiring from being a warrior, she'd opened up a small restaurant that served homecooked meals.)

---

At some point after their wedding, they return to Castle Town more for the sake of diplomacy than an actual desire to, as Nemma is the Gerudo Queen now & there's something of a celebration being held in honor of their union. All the major powers in the Great Hyrule Alliance were going to be there; the Zora Royal Family, the Rito Elder & his family, the Sheikah Cheiftain & his family, & the Head Foreman of Gorondia & his sons. As well as several other important families.

(It was absolutely Rauru trying to draw them out so that he could get Nemma alone to try & convince her to side with Hyrule & while neither Nemma nor Ganondorf knew this, they both sort of looked at each other skeptically.)

They'd arrive there the night before, would stay in the Palace (on the Great Plateau as the Castle & Castle Town we know of didn't exist then), relax & enjoy the sights the next day, & that evening, the celebration would begin.

Anyway, at some point during that celebration, some rich asshole makes a snide remark about Nemma being so thoroughly armed & it being unseemly of a queen.

To which Ganondorf would basically tell the bastard to 'square up, bitch.' Using his full height to loom over his target & assert dominance.

He'd assert that she is more than just his queen, she is also a warrior & will not be disrespected in his presence!

Meanwhile, Nemma is used to such comments about her lifestyle & would normally prefer to defend herself, but... she admits that it feels nice to have her honor defended & to be treated as the warrior she was & always strived to be. Also, that height & the aura of pure dominance he exuded then? Meow! XD

Later, Nemma would be herded to an isolated area (which she'd recognize immediately & she'd certainly lead the guards on a merry chase; not by causing an altercation, but more so by managing to blend in with the crowd simply by changing her posture & aura, which would result in Rauru having to use his own Sheikah guards, including her father, to do so; not that Rauru knows of their relation at this time). Where Rauru would try to convince Nemma to help him convince her husband not to make any rash decisions. Nemma would quickly realize what he was actually asking her due to a mixture of her own intelligence & her skills in Yomijutsu, & being the blunt & straightforward individual that she was, she'd just state as such outright.

"You want me to choose Hyrule over my husband should things go sour between our kingdoms."

Rauru would sputter & try to reiterate it more delicately, but Nemma would have none of it.

She sees past the bs & she'd tell him that if he wanted her to even consider anything he has to say, then he'll be candid & quit pussyfooting around the topic.

Regardless, she'd say that she wouldn't encourage her husband to attack them, but she wouldn't be Rauru's yesman either. In the end, Rauru's attempt to have her side with Hyrule would inevitably fail. In fact, I feel as though Nemma would be insulted at the idea that she'd ever consider betraying her husband.

Either way, she'd return to her husband's side with a lesser view of Rauru & proceed to inform Ganondorf of everything that'd happened & what the King of Hyrule had asked of her.

Which would cause the man's yandere tendencies to flare & his plan to kill Sonia to solidify.

If Rauru hadn't done this, Ganondorf would've elected to simply steal the Secret Stone from Sonia as Nemma & Ayamay had softened him to such a degree, but this would spark possessiveness & paranoia in the Gerudo. Even though he knows, logically, that it's not likely & he trusts Nemma implicitly at this point (especially after having told him everything so directly & without pretense, which he's always appreciated about her), he can't help the little voice in the back of his head telling him that Rauru wanted to steal away his beloved wife for himself.

And while having a second spouse was not necessarily unheard of in Gerudo society (though never a third), it wasn't encouraged & infidelity was treated as a heinous taboo worthy of stoning.

—

However, despite this, I don't think that Rauru would attempt to actually kidnap Nemma until after Ganondorf had killed Sonia & stolen the Secret Stone & it would partly be done in retribution.

---

Before leaving to take the Secret Stone, Gdorf had removed the brow ornament, which he taken to calling a Nīkôz Khepnïsut (literally, "victory brow ornament), & wrapped it up before placing it in his jewelry chest along with any other jewelry that his beloved wife had crafted for him. He did not want to risk it being damaged if it chose one of them & ended up damaging one of her gifts. As much as he wanted to be proudly adorned in her gifts, logically, he didn't want to damage them.

When the new Demon King returned home, he was a horror to all beheld him.

Nemma was horrified by his state, but was not afraid of him. Rather, she was afraid for him. But when she ran up to meet him & went to touch his cheek, she was burned & this seemed to snap Ganondorf out of his sadistic trance.

Before, he'd been in a sort of battle high fueled by blood lust that had taken hold of his mind similar to a pair of spindly hands curling their fingers around his brain, marveling at the power he could feel flowing through him. He felt like he could do anything, be anything! It was intoxicating!

But hearing his wife scream, her hands burned at the mere touch of him, he was suddenly very aware of each & every drop of Miasma that dripped from his skin as though blood from a fatal wound. The black in his schlera seemed to retreat like shadows into grey & his expression dropped in grim realization.

His first instinct was to hold her & examine her injury, but remembering what'd just happened, he folded his arms over his chest to keep from touching her & ordered his guards to see to her injuries. (Several of them noticed how the mark of a shell began to glow faintly upon her brow, though only briefly, the light seeming to beat back Ganondorf's Miasma. However, they were far too harried to make comment & they quickly forgot about it in the rush of the war that followed. Ganondorf himself was also much too worried & panicked for it to really register.)

Ganondorf ended up buzzing around her much like a worried bee & made quite the nuisance of himself in the medical tent. Nothing his staff did seemed to fix it or even slow it down & he could only watch, trembling, in terror as the Miasma from his own body seemed to slowly creep over more of her skin. He seemed to fall into a panic. His mind repeating the words "you did this!" Then, Ayamay rushed in, got a good look at the injury (mentally noting the glowing mark, but putting away for later), & something seemed to click inside her head. She then ran back out & a few minutes later returned with a very familiar, golden flower. Blessedly, it worked. (Ayamay silently contemplated how the light kept Son-in-law's dark power at bay & shivered with dread as it hit her that without that light, Nemma might've died before she could retrieve the Sundelion. The old Shadow Warrior sent up a quiet prayer of thanks to Kariaina-no-Mikoto for protecting her grandbaby as she recognized the mark as being that of the goddess of love's in origin.)

It doesn't escape Ganondorf's notice, the irony that what had harmed his beloved wife had been the very power he had sought so ardently & the only cure ending up being something so heavily associated with the very queen that he had just killed in order to obtain it. Perhaps this was karma?

Later that night, Ganondorf & Nemma talked about what to do moving forward in their quarters.

Nemma isn't a traditionally good person, being more morally gray than anything, & has taken more than her fair share of lives, but she's also a logical & reasonable individual. And she didn't support her husband's actions. If anything, she very much advised him against it.

She warned him that there would be more consequences for his decision & that if he wasn't careful, the cost might end up being more than he was willing to give.

She never had any issues with Sonia, herself, & honestly mourned for her & Rauru's daughter who had been made motherless that night. But, at the end of the day, if he was absolutely sure that this was what he wanted & he chose to go through with his plans, then so long as he spared the children, if there was no enslavement, & if he spared those who stayed out of his way, then she would support him. She wouldn't fight with him at his side in this, but she would be there for him at the end of every fight if he'd allow it.

An intrusive thought broke into Ganondorf's mind to punish the woman for her insolence. Normally, he'd just bat it away like a pesky fly. But since he'd taken the Secret Stone, the thoughts became louder & more intrusive. In the past, the invasive thoughts were never things that he'd ever consider doing, but were also not things he was totally against. At least, until tonight.

Now, they seemed to whisper dark promises into his mind. The sort of things that made him recoil. Things to hurt Nemma. To take advantage of her. To fuck her into submission. It made him feel sick inside. Perhaps if this had been just after having met her, then he would've considered it, but now? Now, just the idea of doing something like that to his beloved wife made him want to vomit.

And the fact that there was ever a time when he would've considered doing such to his wife? It shames him deeply…

And, if Ganondorf were being reasonable, her demands were fair. Especially considering what he'd just done to her. Albeit, inadvertently. Most would've taken the first chance they got to escape him afterwards, but she was still here & still loved him. Disappointed in him, but still loved him.

In that instant, he was nearly overwhelmed with the need to hold his wife tight. And his arms rose on instinct before he flinched.

As mentioned above, Ganondorf is quite touch starved & he relished in his wife's affection. He craves her touch like a suffocating man does air.

So, after having her to satiate that previously unknown need, only to now be unable to indulge in it at any time he wished? Unable to feel her skin caress his or confirm that she was alright by examining her with his own hands, he suddenly felt trapped in his own skin. Almost confined by the very prize he'd pursued.

It was very uncomfortable. In a lot of ways, it turned the Secret Stone & the power it bequeathed into more of a double-edged sword than he thought they'd be. One that he'd, unknowingly, eventually have to decide whether or not it was worth it.

Ganondorf took a moment & thought... Then, with a lot of mental resistance, he removed the Secret Stone from his head. And, suddenly those dark whispers were dulled back to a quiet buzz & his mind was much clearer, though still slightly fogged.

Instantly, Gdorf raised his hand, the appendage stopping for a moment as if unsure, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the pads of his pointer & middle finger as if in worry, before his beautiful bride raised her own & laced their fingers together.

His heart fluttered & he took a deep breath. His eyes tearing up a bit, but not falling, as he pulled her gently into his lap & embraced her, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

And he apologized & said that he understood. That he wouldn't make her do anything & that having her with him was enough.

However, much like an addiction, Ganondorf would find himself looking back at his ill-gotten prize & find himself craving that feeling of raw power again.

He'd end up adorning the Secret Stone again the next day. And while he wore it, he'd keep his arms folded when near his wife. As it'd become habit to rest his hand on either her hip, her shoulder, or lower back whenever they stood together & the last thing he'd allow was her to be harmed by his own hand again.

---

The next time Ganondorf saw Ayamay, she was giving him the side-eye & he knew that he was in trouble. He'd... never felt ashamed like this before... For the first time since he was a small voevï (boy), he couldn't meet someone's gaze.

She narrowed her eyes & seemed to come to a conclusion.

"Listen well, boy." He flinched. "If you never take any other advise from me, you better take this to heart. Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely. You better figure out what it is you're willing to sacrifice for such lofty pursuits or you'll end up loosing something you weren't willing to give."

There was that phrase again. Something he wasn't willing to loose.

Beforehand, he'd have said that he wasn't willing to loose his power or his control... but was that really true anymore?

He didn't know...

---

Anyway, Gdorf would pillage & run roughshod through Hyrule on Jawàrik, who was transformed as he was, into a nightmarish unicorn that would skewer victims with his jagged horn. The haze of blood lust & power flooding his mind in a red cloud. Murdering those who got in his way, but never a child or those who avoided him. Oh, he'd come close, but he'd always manage to stop before that. And whenever he heard of one of his Lynel minions taking advantage of the enemy for unwanted carnal pursuits, he would have them killed. However, his vaien were allowed to take from any men they defeated in battle.

And upon returning to his room at night, he'd remove the stone to indulge in the tender affections he'd been deprived of throughout the day.

However, every time he did, he'd find it more & more difficult to take the stone off. Not physically, but mentally.

(Imagine it as if 2 diametrically opposed addictions were battling in his head. He can't indulge in both at the same time & he has to choose which one is more important to him at a given moment. Resulting in him creating a sort of loose schedule for when he can indulge in one or the other. It's difficult to keep to as he desires both, but he knows that Rauru will retaliate at some point & he refuses to not be prepared.)

Upon seeing his wife once more, thoughts had slowly begun invading his mind. Whispers of ravaging her body while still under the influence of the Secret Stone, specifically reveling in the pain it caused her. But he'd push them away furiously. The very idea of harming her in pursuit of his own personal pleasure while disregarding her own was disgusting & shameful to him. Though, they'd only come as brief flashes & half-formed thoughts normally.

Then, one night, Ganondorf had a depraved nightmare.

Of raping his wife. Of watching her be consumed by the Miasma that leaked like a bloody gash from his body. Of rutting her violently as she screamed in agony, her body being twisted by his dark power into a perfect little, obedient fuck toy. Over & over again until she begged him to stop, but he'd continue until she passed out.

Ganondorf bolted upright in bed. A cold sweat coating his skin in a fine sheen. He gasped for air, finding it difficult to breathe as he turned to look for his wife. She was sound asleep, but seemed to be stirring.

The Gerudo King covered his mouth to keep from waking her as he panicked silently only to discover that he was crying. He hadn't cried since he was a child.

Ganondorf didn't tell Nemma about his dream the next day or ever. He was terrified that she'd leave him. The dream disgusted him, absolutely repelled him, & he thought himself a demented beast for having it in the first place. He'd often been called a beast in battle, but never had he thought of it in such a way. He found that he no longer took pride in it.

For all his stature & power, he could be quite the coward when he was truly afraid. He'd known this since he was a boy. That'd been part of why he initially desired power so much. To exert control over his own life & rid himself of his fears. So why was it that even now that he had so much power at his fingertips & Hyrule's subjugation on the horizon, was he more afraid than ever?

---

Though, the stone didn't seem to only fill him with bloodlust & non-consensual thoughts of sex, thankfully, but also of the more consensual, yet rough nature.

As the Demon King, he lusted after his queen to an unusual degree, even for him. Just the thought of her would send his mind spiraling into thoughts of breeding her full of his heirs. The thought of children having only briefly crossed his mind before & had initially been brushed off as a "not yet" sort of thought as he never pegged Nemma as the sort to be interested in them. Until he learned that she would often teach the vaivïn (little girls) how to cook or about her village & its customs with the same patience as she would him. How gentle, yet firm when necessary she was with them.

After which, the idea would send his heart fluttering with want as he realized that maybe children were a much closer possibility than he previously thought. Though, obviously not until after this was all done with. Last thing he wanted was their prospective vehvïn (babies) in danger. Which was unusual, as Gdorf always previously desired a world where only the strong would survive & thrive, but with the possibility of children in his life, he suddenly felt overwhelmingly protective over someone who wasn't even yet a twinkle in his or his wife's eye.

Anyway, often at the end of battles, his bloodlust would be replaced with a carnality of equal severity. Which regularly lead to him sneaking off & masturbating to thoughts of his wife.

The invasive thoughts would at times be less repulsive, the scenes more consensual. Which, by Vah Gela, did he prefer that so much more.

He couldn't deny, though, if not for the harm that this form caused vayfu (his wife), he would've likely rutted her raw all that night to celebrate his success, glorify in his newfound power, as well as their next successful step towards ruling Hyrule as king & queen. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to begin speaking so lewdly through the earring as he pleasured himself the first time he did it, but it certainly seemed to catch Nemma's attention & often resulted in some... interesting conversations between them. These desires often persisted even long after removing the stone & resulted in some very long nights of repeatedly consummating their marriage in the eyes of Vah Kàvtrïna.

Truly, she must have blessed their union.

---

(Honestly, he'd never thought of heirs beforehand, having been taught how to use his black magic to basically live forever. However, the dark ritual that it involved had always left him feeling uncomfortable. He'd only ever performed a variation of it once as a young teen when sealing his pact with the dark entity that his mothers' worshiped. That poor kid... He still sees the boy's face in his nightmares. It was the most traumatizing thing that his mothers had ever had him do. Luckily, he'd only been required to kill the boy, but the things that his mothers did... They chilled him to the core... Things that they'd told him that if he wished to live forever, that he'd need to learn to be strong enough to do. The idea curdled his blood even then. But after knowing Nemma & Ayamay, he just didn't think he could do it. He had yet to tell either of the women of the memories & he was honestly terrified to, afraid that they'd be disgusted with him. He didn't know if he ever would tell them. He hates the idea of disappointing them.)

—

Anyway, I think that I'm going to make Nemma's capture a result of Kōme & Kotake's attempts to be rid of her as they don't appreciate how "soft" Ganondorf is becoming because of her. As in, they heard Rauru's attempt to persuade Nemma & then later informed him of her routines, which enables one of his Sheikah Warriors to kidnap her.

I think I'll make it Nemma's father, Masashai, who steals her away, just to really drum up the drama. He's one of Rauru's best & he even offered to do it himself as she was his spawn. Which, the use of such a word to describe one's own offspring had caused Rauru's eyes to narrow as he'd never speak of his own daughter, now 3 years old, thusly. But he was nothing if not strategic, so he'd let it slide for now.

(The toddler princess was hidden far away, outside of the Demon King's reach for now. Rauru was doing this for her.)

Masashai saw Nemma's dalliances with his king's enemy & his queen's killer to be deeply shaming & he wished to correct the girl's behavior.

At the same time, Rauru would recognize in Nemma the complete absence of a desire for power that wasn't something that she, herself, had earned, as well as the qualities of a true & wise ruler & a noble, honorable warrior. As such, he wouldn't kill her, instead choosing to seal her away.

---

To Be Continued...

And that's where this part ends. I'll continue with the rest in Part 2 because this post has gotten so long that I can't even edit it on my phone anymore. XD

---

LoZ My Fanfic Masterlist

[arrowenchantress]

Unexpected

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!reader

TW: Mentions of rape, Blood, Violence, Guns, Swearing.

Summary: Getting shot in your pajamas wasn't something you expected, especially not in front of the man you loved.

Not Proofread!

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

Today was a rare sunny day in Virginia, I wanted to stay in bed and rest today but working at the BAU never lets me plan days like I want to. Rolling out of bed after getting called in at 4:30 AM was as lucky as I could get. Quickly throwing on a black button up blouse, black jeans, and black flats, I grabbed my to go bag and my coffee cup, then I was out the door. Driving into the BAU parking garage something felt off, though I work somewhere where I chase serial killers everyday for a living so I guess I should feel off all the time. Walking into the office I was immediately greeted by Penellope's smiling face, "Why is she smiling so big at 4 in the morning, who tripped, and did you record it?" I asked while sipping on my coffee. "No one tripped unfortunately, although why are you smiling so big Pen?" Emily said turning from me to Penelope "I'm just happy, can I not just be happy?" she shot back at us, I look over at Emily who is matching the smirk on my face "You totally got some last night" "I did not!" "Oh you so did!" "Who got some?" Derek chimed in as he set his stuff down at his desk, "Penelope did, she just won't admit it", Derek looked at her shocked "Damn babygirl, I thought we had something special" he said while shaking his head. We sat there and talked for a little while longer before JJ walked out of her office "We have a new case in Colorado" she said walking into the briefing room "This chat is not over" I said standing up and grabbing my coffee, walking to the briefing room.

Reid, Hotch and JJ were already in there "Did you two teleport in here or did you sleep in here" I said sitting in my designated chair next to Hotch as the others did the same in their seats, "We didn't sleep in here, in fact if we slept in here we probably would've gotten in trouble since we're not really supposed to be here when no one else is" Reid said not even raising his head. I nodded my head in silence as JJ handed out the files "This case was brought in by a Mr. Carlisle after his siter went missing and was found dead with her uterus cut out, 4 y/h/c females have been found with their uteruses cut out every Sunday within the last 4 weeks, they were drugged and abducted from their homes, they were raped and then they were found dead in various fields throughout Colorado" she said putting pictures on the screen "I know the Carlisle family, they're nice people" I said, "One girl a week" Derek says a thought aloud, as I looked through the photos I realized these girls looked a lot like me, I subconsciously reached over towards Hotch , but realized what I was doing so I just rested my hand on his chair. "Wheels up in 30" Hotch said abruptly standing up and walking out.

I walked on the jet and sat down next to Emily and across from Hotch, he looked up at me through his eyelashes, but quickly looked back down at the file and pictures. "The edges around the cut are smooth so he's definitely used some sort of professional tool" Reid points out tracing the outline of the cuts "wait guys look, where the uterus is cut from the actual body, the wounds are cauterize" I pointed out the to cauterized wounds "So what he would cut out their uteruses and then what, try and save them?" Emily asked trying to figure out why he would cauterize the wounds if they were already dead.

After we landed we went straight to the Police Sation to set up "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone, and this is SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA David Rossi, SSA y/n y/l/n, and Doctore Spencer Reid" JJ introduced us "It's nice to meet you all, I'm Cheif Taylor Claunet, thank you all for coming" he said shaking all of our hands "Thank you for calling" JJ said. "Prentiss and Morgan go talk to the victims families, Rossi and Spencer go set up and start on a geographical profile, Y/l/n you're with me, we're going to go to the dumpsites" Hotch said commanding people around.

Riding in the car with Hotch was awkward "Are you ok?" Hotch broke the silence "yeah why wouldn't I be" I asked looking over at him with a small smile on my face "Back at the office, you realized that the girls look like you so you subconsciously reached out towards me but stopped halfway to make sure I didn't realize that it made you unsettled" "You're profiling me Hotch, you aren't supposed to do that" I said rolling my eyes at the fact I wasn't so subtle as I thought, but why was he paying attention to me in the first place? "yeah yeah" he said shaking his head.

Getting a call saying another girl was missing was always my least favorite part, not knowing if this is the girl you can't save because you can't figure it out fast enough. "Lilly Carlisle, 22 year old female was abducted from her home 2 hours ago, husband just called it in after he came home early and found a bloody near the front door, but it's not Lillys" JJ said "He Made a mistake, didn't expect the husband to come home so early so he panicked and she landed a hit" I said "Y/l/n let's go look at the scene".

This case was taking a tole on everyone, no matter what we got, the unsub was always a step ahead of us, after not finding anything at the scene besides his blood that was being tested, Hotch told us to go back to the hotel and get some sleep, but I knew I wasn't going to sleep tonight. After changing into pajamas and sitting in bed while looking over the case I realized something, I wrote it down on a notepad and got up to go tell Hotch since I can almost guarantee he's awake. I got one foot out into the hallway "Put your hand above your head and do not move or so help me I will kill you" I heard from my right, I immediately stopped moving and put my hands up, I looked over and saw Lilly Carlisles husband standing there "Mr. Carlisle you don't have to do this" I said dropping the notepad "Shut up!" he yelled cocking the gun. The door right across from mine opens, Hotch, but I don't even flinch "You, you met my family and they loved you, more than me" he said shaking his head "I can guarantee that isn't true, you're their family, I'm not" I said in the most monotone voice I could. "I killed them all because they're like you" he said sounding crazy as ever, more doors started opening up but he didn't notice, Hotch must've called the others. "Why cut the Uteruses out" I said trying to get anything out of him "Because people like you shouldn't be able to have kids" he said before shooting.

Waking up under bright hospital lights is not a nice way to wake up, especially not with the pounding headache I had, I opened my eyes fully to see the team standing around me. "Ow dude, I feel like I just got shot" I said sitting up and laughing a little, I looked around to see a bunch of "Are u serious" faces "Oh shit, I got shot!" I said immediately going down and feeling gauze around my lower stomach "Yeah you did sweetheart" Derek said sadly smiling while petting my head. "Can I have a moment alone with Y/n please" Hotch requested, I look at him as everyone filed out of the room "What you did was stupid and reckless" he said as soon as everyone left "Hotch he was going to shoot me anyways" as I looked at him more I realized he had dried blood under his fingernails "Where is she!" I hear from outside the room "uh oh" I said with a growing smile on my face, not even five seconds later the door swung open to reveal Penelope.

"No Pen, I don't remember anything after I got shot, I got shot and the boom, I was waking up in the hospital" I said, the entire team was in my room basically on top of each other. "Excuse me" Hotch said as he got up and left the room, he was acting very weird ever since I woke up.

Staying in a hospital bed for days with nothing to do is not fun, especially when all your friends are off at work, well, most of them. I was watching a dumb show that was on the hospital T.V. when I heard a knock "come in" I said shutting off the show. Hotch walked in "Hi" I said giving him a small smile "Hi, I wanted to come by and check on you" "On your day off? I feel so special" I said putting my hands over my heart and smiling "Jack heard what happened and wanted to come by and give you something, if that's ok with you" "Yeah, yeah of course that's ok with me".

Today I was getting the news I was dreading was coming today, I got shot so low that the doctors weren't sure if I was going to be able to have kids or not. I sat on my bed biting at my fingers, tears started to sting my eyes, I always wanted to be a mom, I could always adopt I said to myself in my head. As tears started to spill out of my eyes I heard a knock on my door "Come in" I said with a slight voice crack "It's me" Hotch said as he walked in "Bad timing Hotch, I'm waiting on some results" "I know that's why I'm here" my head snapped up to look at him "You shouldn't have to get life changing news on your own" he sat down next to me and rubbed his hand up and down my back. Another knock at the door sounded, in walked my doctor, she looked at Hotch and then looked at me, I subtly nodded my head "You can still have kids, the bullet went right above your uterus, you're very lucky, I'll give you time to process the news and then I'll be back with your discharge papers" she said with a small smile before leaving. That's when the tears started, I cuddled into Aarons side, he pulled me closer and just held me there.

I walked around my house trying to find a magnet to hang up the picture Jack drew me when I was in the hospital, on my fridge. I finally get to go back to work tomorrow after almost 3 months. I sat down on the edge of my bed as the thunder grew loud outside, I started to massage my temples, suddenly i got a flash of memory from the night I got shot.

~~FLASHBACK~~

I landed on the ground with a thud, pain immediately shooting through my stomach, I hear yelling but it sounds far away as I close my eyes, I feel a pair of hands push down on my wound "hey, hey, hey, look at me, keep your eyes open, keep your eyes on me" it sounds like someone you know, I open my eyes "Hurts Aaron" "I know, I know, but you have to keep your eyes on me" "I can't" "yes you can, tell me something" "I'm in love with you, does that count" I whispered it out, a small smile graced his face "Yes, that counts, you're doing an amazing job sweet girl" he wiped a stray tear that slid down my face. My eyes started to close "Y/n no, you keep your eyes on me honey" I shook my head as I let my consciousness slip into darkness, I heard Aaron yell for me, but I was too tired.

~~ END FLASHBACK ~~

"Holy shit!" I yelled as I stood up and looked for my phone, after I found my phone I immediately called him

~~RING~~ ~~RING~~

"Pick up Aaron"

~~RING~~ ~~RING~~ "Goddammit Aaron pick up!"

~~RING-

"Hello??" a groggy Aaron filled my phones speakers, I stood there shocked at the events that just happened "Y/l/n?? you there??" he said sounding a little panicked "yeah, yeah, I'm here" "Is everything ok?" "I remember" I said out of breath. Silence filled the air before he hung up. shit.

I tried to call him about ten more times, I fucked up, tears welled in my eyes as I sat on my bed, why did I not think, why did I think he would like me back, god I'm so stupid.

~DING DONG~

what the fuck??

~DING DONG~

I walked downstairs slowly and looked out the window, I raced over to the front door and swung it open "Aaron what the fuck are you-" I only got so much before a soaking wet Aaron Hotchner was smashing his lips against mine.

"I love you too sweetheart, always have" he said against my lips with a little smile before pulling me back in to kiss me deeply.

What's that saying?? oh yeah!

Expect the Unexpected.

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

A/N- First time writing!! So exciting!!!!! hope you enjoyed!! please feel free to request some things!!!

Much love!

[bleakfated]

INTERACTIONS. HEADCANONS. PHOTOS. IISMS. WISHLIST. OPENS. SC.

STATISTICS

BASICS: name: rosalie lillian hale age: bitten at 18, actually 100+ gender & pronouns: female, she/her sexuality: pansexual faceclaim: anne winters occupation: none location: sporadically all over the world

PERSONALITY: positive traits: loyal, perceptive, resolute, meticulous negative traits: sarcastic, narcissistic, materialistic, volatile

APPEARANCE: scars: none tattoos: none piercings: none

VERSES

note: while I have a very AU main verse for Rosalie, I am more than happy to write her in the canon arc. Relationships between Rosalie and the other Cullens in the main verse are subject to interpretation with each other writer.

BIOGRAPHY

TL;DR

Rosalie developed an insatiable desire to give terrible men the consequences that society won't after she survived an attack at the hands of her fiancé Royce King and his friends at 18 years old. Carlisle Cullen found her and turned her into a vampire to save her life with the intention of giving a young woman a second chance at life, not knowing that her humanity was the only thing she really valued. After taking the lives of her fiancé and his friends, she briefly tried to play nice and fit in with Carlisle's small coven, but her desire to make terrible men actually face justice won out. Traveling on her own with sporadic contact with the Cullens, Rosalie uses her vampire abilities to make unredeemable men meet their bitter, and deserved, ends.

FULL BIO

TW: MENTIONS OF RAPE AND PHYSICAL VIOLENCE

Rosalie Lillian Hale was born to parents Walter and Clara Hale on August 4, 1915 in Rochester, New York. She was the eldest of what would become three when her little brothers Nathaniel and Marshall were born. Her parents were very well off in the Great Depression as her father had a great position in the bank. Her beauty was notable from a young age and her parents took a lot of pride in portraying themselves as the peak of the beautiful American family. Always praised for how beautiful she was and given the most ornate clothes that her father could afford, Rosalie learned at a young age to thrive off the envy of others around her. Her childhood was spent aspiring to marry off well and increase the family's status.

With this goal in mind, Clara 'forgot' to give her husband his packed lunch before he left for the day. The bank owner's son had started to take a serious role within the company and she urged Rosalie to dress nicely in hopes that she would catch Royce King II's eye. It worked and soon she was receiving roses and violets from the man she began a courtship with. Getting to know each other was left on the backburner as he was always busy with working at the bank to pristinely follow in his father's footsteps. Rosalie didn't mind at the time because she was reveling in the idea of marrying into Rochester's wealthiest family. The rest of her life would fall in line with time.

However, she soon felt the real sting of envy for the first time, aside from brief glimpses she had gotten of the staggeringly beautiful Cullen family around town. Her best friend Vera had gotten married for love to a carpenter while they were seventeen. Rosalie had judged her rather harshly for marrying a tradesman, something her family would never allow. When she visited the couple in the past, she realized how desirable it was to be truly loved by someone. At first, she had assumed that she would grow to build that with Royce, but when she visited Vera a week before her own wedding and saw how adorably domestic they all were; Rosalie started to worry that she was in a loveless marriage. The pang of jealousy for what Vera had really shaken her.

Walking home from Vera's and contemplating on her own engagement, Rosalie ran into her very inebriated fiancé and his equally inebriated snooty friends. She did not like his friends the couple of times she had met them and this moment really showed her how intolerable her husband to be was when he was drinking. He was bragging about how beautiful she was -- nothing else, of course. Despite her efforts to get away from them, the men brutally gang raped her. Severely beaten up in the process, Rosalie was left there to bleed to death in the street. The smell of her blood attracted Carlisle Cullen to her as he was traveling home from working at the hospital.

Carlisle lifted a dying Rosalie from the street and took her home, where he made the decision to turn her into a vampire when he realized she would die otherwise. Enveloped in even worse pain than before, Rosalie doesn't remember much until the transition was complete. When the transition was completed and she woke up on April 23, 1933, she heard Carlisle arguing with Edward about turning her, increasingly so when Carlisle suggested they may be able to fall in love so Edward wouldn't be alone any longer. The lack of connection between the two was mutual, but it did sting that Edward never even seemed to consider her. Any form of rejection back then bruised her ego.

While she resented Carlisle for taking her humanity away from her and she initially told him as much, she stuck around for guidance in controlling the newborn thirst. She didn't want to kill an innocent person or worse, accidentally subject them to her own fate. Rosalie may still be alive, but she was never going to be able to experience that true love and family fairytale ending that Vera had helped her aspire to. Her vampirism refined on her beauty, but this barely made a dent in the anguish and wrath she felt. After a few days and a strong feeding, Rosalie visited her family for the final time with a few quick lies about running off with another man. She didn't want to simply disappear without a trace and leave them wondering for the rest of their lives.

She was soon resolute with the best way to channel her resentment and regrets with her newfound strength and heightened senses -- take down the men that truly took any chance at living out her dreams. Rosalie picked off Royce's friends one by one and saved her former fiancé for last. Her murders were careful and calculated, she made sure not to spill a drop of their blood because she knew that it would be hard to resist feeding off of them -- and the last thing she wanted was a drop of their vile blood to touch her lips. With what she would later describe as her own theatrics, Rosalie wore her wedding dress for Royce's murder. She took great pleasure in torturing him for hours after giving the men that guarded the vaulted room he was hiding in a quick death. She also made sure to take a hefty amount of money from the family safe... assuredly something Royce's father would replenish in no time.

After a few weeks, the Carlisle decided it was time for the family to move on from their current residence, especially with Rosalie's murders. She tried for a few months to stay with them and live the so called vegetarian lifestyle, pretending to be Carlisle and Esme's adopted daughter in high school alongside Edward. While she kept to herself, her ears were keen on the gossip around the school. One of the married teachers taking advantage of his students. Multiple girls were whispering the same story, an offer of tutoring ending in a night in his home they didn't remember. Any voiced concern was quickly written off by the school and authorities due to the man's apparent stellar reputation. Unable to shake her feeling of disgust, Rosalie poised herself to be the perfect victim for confirmation and promptly staged his 'suicide' complete with a typewritten confession.

Carlisle expressed his distaste for her methods. He had given her some grace on getting her personal revenge, but he didn't believe it to be her right to continue to leave a trail of bodies in her wake. These men deserved terrible things, but humans had less barbaric methods in place for punishments. While she was not feeding off of anyone, the body trails she seemed keen on leaving behind could catch the eyes of humans or the Volturi. In the end, Rosalie decided it was best to amicably part from the family. Her desire to protect women from the worst people in society that were either going to get away with their crimes for years or their whole life outweighed anything else. There was a rush she couldn't quite describe, seeing the terror in their eyes that they inflicted in others. Her actions may seem less than morally grey to some, but she felt that her unwanted vampire life could actually have a positive impact and a true ambition behind it.

After she went out on her own, Rosalie traveled through the United States... posing herself in various places to investigate for her next target. High school student, college freshman, bartender, nail technician, beautician -- they all came in handy from time to time. Two years after she had been turned, the blood of a dying man attracted her to the scene of a bear mauling in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The young man's hair reminded her of Vera's son and this connection made her understand why Carlisle had felt swayed to save her life. She carried the man over a hundred miles to Carlisle and asked him to turn the young man. Emmett McCarty took better to the news of being a vampire than Rosalie had and the two remained somewhat intertwined, though she insisted a life with the Cullens was likely better suited for him. Truthfully, she was a bit afraid to open her heart up to the vulnerability of love again.

Rosalie's endeavors continued to evolve with society and she thrived on the usefulness of the ever involving social media boom starting over sixty years from her vampiric curse. Before she selects a target, she finds concrete proof that they are irredeemable abusers, assaulters, and/or murderers that either slip through the cracks or craftily escape the investigations of dimwitted humans. While she started out not spilling their blood due to her worries of her control over her bloodlust, there are occasions that she will paint quite the scene after she has gained confidence in her composure. Most of the time, she does opt for a tidy crime scene -- that way she isn't leaving haunting images within the minds of the humans that deal with the aftermath.

The one line she has never crossed is drinking the blood of her victims under any circumstance. She abandoned the vegetarian lifestyle because she honestly feels worse killing animals and the strength from human blood is intoxicating. She will get blood bags from blood banks and mercy kill comatose patients within hospitals, Emmett being the only exception of people she took that choice of dying or becoming a vampire from. Contrary to canon, with her decades of practice she has control of her venom gland and thirst and will at times feed from willing live participants... but all of her breathing bloodbags are a one time use, typically. When she first was convinced to feed off a willing human, she discovered her ability of memory erasure, limited to events that transpired within the last couple of hours and eye contact.

[lilliesthings]

the only words that I'd known

relationships: Luke Alvez/Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid

wc: 8k

tw and tags: implied/referenced rape/noncon, ptsd, addiction, suicidal ideation, canon-typical violence, mentions of Tobias Hankel and Cat Adams, angst with happy ending

summary: His hands are shaky but he complies before he can give himself the chance to think about it, to talk himself out of it, because here and now, nothing is more tangible than the presence of Luke Alvez.

Like the hand that once guided him to safety in Mexico, it's an anchor so miraculous he sometimes imagines he manifested it himself, right as he was sure he would meet his end.

An alternate version to 13x02 where Spencer Reid is not quite ready to be reinstated.

READ ON AO3

I.

“You did what you had to do and a lot of good people are alive because you did what you did." Gideon fixed him with a stern stare, spoke in a firm tone, for Reid, who was hanging by his words.

"What's the third?" Spencer had inquired.

"I'm proud of you." They both looked away. Nothing else but these words mattered to him in that brief moment, not the blood in his mouth, not his broken ribs, not the life he’d taken.

For as good as Spencer knows his recall is, the more he tries to replay Gideon's words in his mind, the more they’ve started to sound like all the other lies he’s made up to tell himself. No, he didn’t have to do the things he did, and even despite that good people are still dead because he did what he did. Everything feels shaky around him as he stares at the remains of the police tape still stuck on his apartment door.

He hasn’t even cleaned the place, not since the crime scene investigation unit did their perfunctory once over. The gauzy curtains have remained drawn ever since, and when he peers inside, the halfway closed windows shine a faint light onto his mother’s scrapbook. Despite everything it remained open on his coffee table, on the page that Cat had ripped out.

On his way back here, he had mentally counted each time his fingers ran circles around the metal hook of his messenger bag, navigating like a man with his feet stuck deep in mud.

Books and items of clothing are strewn around on the floor, along with a lamp he knocked over, covered in a layer of dust like everything else.

The apartment door opens to the living room then on to his bedroom, and back there barely visible from where he stands, his wardrobe, holding the drawer where he knows he used to hide the vials of dilaudid and sterile needles. Tobias's parting gift. So badly hidden in retrospect that it was like he’d been waiting to be caught.

No one had come looking though.

"I think I'll move." He murmurs, more to himself to break the reverie.

These floors were drenched in Cassie's blood. He might not have killed her but her blood is on his hands, in the same way that Nadie's blood is on his hands. In begging them for help, he ended up being the common denominator to their demise.

What his mind conjures up as the sound of their screams follows him sometimes… Theirs, those of the men he poisoned (Malcolm, mostly Malcolm, not Calvin Shaw). Even if it's not discernible to the naked eye, Spencer knows this with bone-deep certainty: this apartment is rotting from the inside.

Lindsay Vaughn resided here. The full extent of what she’d touched and ruined, he knows he will never know.

So he grips the cardigan Penelope gave him tighter. Unlike prison denim, it's red and soft and feels, in tiny measures, like being held by her. Even as he tries to drown out the echoed memory in his ears 'You want this Spencer, shhhh it’s okay, you want this—' with 'You love me, and I love you, and what we have is pure and transcendental and blueberry-filled.'

The real Penelope is standing right next to him, but he can’t quite bring himself to ask her for comfort.

"I'll look up hotel rooms or—"

"Hey hey. I'm wounded." Derek interrupts in a mock-hurt voice, balancing Spencer's bag in one hand, the keys of his car still dangling in his grasp. "You know that your very good friend who is standing right here has at least four impeccably restored properties?" The inflection of his voice goes from playful to concerned in a matter of seconds.

Some time ago Spencer had given Penelope a key to his apartment. In a spark of color and brightness, she walked in on him staring numbly at a wall, and decided that instant that they must visit Derek because he smells like hope and happiness. You, me and Esther, we're hitting the road.

Which finds him at the end of said visit now, and as if in definite proof that the world itself has turned upside down, Morgan and Garcia haven't exchanged a single flirty comment in the amount of time the three of them have been standing in his hallway. Even the sparkles of her necklace have considerably dimmed in brilliance like a sadly flickering lightbulb, at the end of its lifespan in a dark hallway.

Spencer realizes he doesn’t even know what expression his face must be making, but can guess that has everything to do with it, but before he can get any further on the thought Penelope’s phone chirps, and her already concerned expression, flickering from Reid to Morgan, turns more worried.

“We have a case.”

Derek is the first one to break the silence.

“Hey kid, I’m sure Emily would understand if—”

“I’ve been reinstated.” He interrupts before Derek can go there, before he is forced to acknowledge it.

More uneasy silence fills the hallway. Unable to stand how he’s sucking the life out of two of the most dynamic people he knows any longer, Spencer thanks Derek for his previous offer, thanks both for their time, grabs his bag in the process, and all but runs to the metro station.

---

He paces.

It had taken around fifteen minutes of walking aimlessly for the bravado to seep out of his body.

He could have left the BAU earlier. He didn’t, instead idling at his desk after the briefing, to go over Henry's drawing many times in a row. He traced every line as if it held the key to unlocking this Spencer Reid, the one that still existed intact in his godson's mind, who took a vacation to go see the beach for three months.

It’s nearing noon when he apathetically kicks the curb, curls plastered to his face, carrying a dull weight at the back of his skull. It would be an hour drive to get to the meeting at best. By public transportation, around four hours. He wouldn't make it in time that way, if he wanted to make it at all, and he wouldn't if he only has his sorry conscience to hold himself accountable. Which is why it has become a concentrated effort to try and school his features back to calm. When it doesn’t work, he leans his weight against a wall in half-defeat, one cup of coffee in hand, trying to still the other hand from making anxious tap-tapping motions against his thigh, when a dog comes barrelling in his direction, owner in tow only a few paces behind.

The surprise is enough to almost paint the sidewalk in coffee. If he’s being fair, it isn’t as though Luke really knows about his poor history with dogs, so the whole thing just verges on embarrassing.

"Aw she likes you!" Luke reassures, clearly trying to stifle a laugh, looking fondly at the dog. Sensing as the remark does nothing to ease Spencer’s discomfort even still he quickly adds "Here let me replace that."

Luke looks so bright and earnest that the protests that started bubbling up on the younger man’s lips quickly fade.

“No it’s alright.” He says quickly.

It’s not like that’s why they’re here anyways.

“Yeah? You sure? If we’re good to go, then I’m parked right over there.” Luke gestures.

Spencer’s mouth involuntarily tightens into a thin line.

"Thanks again, and I’m sorry to bother you with this." He really is, for having Luke witness him half-heartedly trying to claw his way back up, whether the older man is aware of it or not.

"You’re good, man. We have a few hours before taking off, dropping you off is no issue."

Spencer didn't offer details, but he’d long ago abandoned the pretense that he could blatantly hide something like this from a bunch of expert profilers. They had to know, and it’s not like he’s ever been that good of a liar, even more so now that his body seemed to betray his emotions at every turn.

Still, out of all of them, Luke is the most recent addition to the team, who, he reasons, would have the fewest reasons to jump to the worst conclusions.

The man, thankfully, doesn't make a single mention of it as he drives and parks next to the building that Spencer asked to be dropped off near because he had a thing to take care of first. It’s all out of kindness he supposes, because it isn’t as though he trusts himself with driving, not this soon, when the fading remains of a cut on his hand still burn in reminiscence, and he has to shake himself out of the tremors that crop up every time he zones out, part of him still seemingly trapped in the near past.

While Luke doesn’t pry, it doesn’t stop a second set of four legged eyes, Roxy peers curiously. It’s entirely too much again.

“Thank you, I… um… I’ll find a way back. You don't have to wait up.”

Without further hesitation, he opens the car door, clammy hands gripping the handle, and as he crosses the distance from the car to the building, he tries to drown out every thought that doesn't involve repeating his line like a mantra.

Hi my name is Spencer and I'm an a—

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

From one second to the next, he reaches the threshold and a dozen pairs of eyes turn to him.

He backtracks before his feet cross through the door. It can wait another day. It can even wait another week. A month even.

The SUV is still there. Behind the glass, Roxy barks excitedly, ears forward, her attention scrutinous on him before she lets out a high, keening whine.

The shame is suffocating as it crawls the length of his throat. He pointedly avoids looking in the direction of the driver's seat, standing still at a loss of what to do.

The driver-side door opens.

“Hey it's all good Spence,” he hears Luke say, his eyes still planted firmly on the ground, “I'll bring you back.”

He nods, swallowing down the lingering nagging sensation and breathes a little easier.

___

"This is Derek Morgan speaking." The man answers, his voice business as usual.

"Morgan, hi it's me … um, is this a good time?"

"Pretty~ Boy!" Spencer can practically hear the unsaid 'Look who figured out the wonders of technology once again!' in his tone. “What’s up?”

"Were you serious about that house?"

“Of course I was. There’s one I think you’ll like. Green walls, just like your apartment.”

“Oh … can I repaint it?”

“So now you’re just insulting me?”

“What? No! I'm sure you did a great job renovating it.” He protests, missing the sarcasm.

“Wait a minute. You should know by now I don't renovate. I restore.”

“Restore, yeah…”

Much to Spencer's chagrin, having a casual phone conversation doesn't come anywhere near as easy as simply coexisting in the same space every day. Though much to his relief, Derek has known him for the better part of a decade.

"Talk to me, kid. How are you holding up?"

"I um… I’ve been having these dreams?"

The silence stretches for a few seconds and he holds his breath in anticipation.

"Nightmares?"

"Nightmares."

I lose my mom in them and I try to reach for her but there is a hole burning in my hand in the spot where Antonia Slade spit her venom and it keeps spreading because I never made peace with—

It would mean breaching the topic of the unsubs they hunt, the very thing Derek had walked away from. So he settles for "You know how it is with the job, I'll figure it out."

He doesn’t think he’ll figure it out, he doesn't trust his capacity to figure things out anymore. It's that tightrope all over again, his mother knew, he never figured it out.

"Kid—"

This was a mistake.

"Sorry I'm—…I have to go. I’ll call you back."

In the end, what more was there to say? He couldn't be happier for him. Truly. He didn't want him to stay. He didn't.

Dread sinks from the pit of his stomach, out and deep into Spencer's bones. Slowly, he leans against the nearest table, tries to focus on the feeling of here, where there are windows to the city lights, doors he is allowed to open, and no reason to walk with his back to the walls. The coin sitting in his pocket becomes impossibly heavy.

Ten years.

He holds it to the light, and his hands start to perform the familiar choreography, the first magic trick he’s ever learned. Sleight of hand, blink and it’s gone.

The chip doesn’t make a sound as it slips out of his unsteady grip and onto the carpeted floor.

---

Raphael is in his dreams, white wings spanning over him while he tightens his hold on the shovel, to bury his body as instructed. He has nothing but time to think of what he’s done, on his knees surrounded by these seemingly endless lines of graves.

He died here too, some time ago.

Wet leaves are scattered in between the long grass, the earth squelching softly underfoot. The feeling is overwhelming, even over the feeling of the broken bones of his feet.

When Charles Hankel orders that he confess, Spencer does— to being weak, to being a liar and a sinner. He stopped feeling the chill of the Georgia night long ago, and when the words spill out of his mouth, he doesn't try to stop them. The relief is almost unbearable.

Then he is left alone, but not for long because in this shed, the rushing sensation of relief is a feeling he associates with Tobias. That's how he knows he's there before he even sees him.

His eyes are as kind as Spencer remembers them to be.

So overwhelmed with gratitude, Spencer runs to him, begs for his forgiveness. He thanks him for caring, for the lessening of his pain.

In the expanding void that they’re standing in, blinding lights reflect on the solace Tobias holds in the vial in his hand. Then nothing else exists but quivering hands that linger over Spencer’s track marks. Even now Tobias keeps helping him, it’s all he ever did.

“God gave you to me for a reason.” Tobias says again, his voice like a caress.

There were times it kept him up at night, on the days when the hatred dug deep. The idea that he should have walked out of there with an illumination, that there was an important point he’d missed entirely.

He doesn’t know.

He only knows that Tobias Hankel was his friend.

That maybe neither of them should have left that cemetery that day… that maybe neither of them have, and that’s all there was to it. So he digs and digs and digs as fast as he can.

Sometimes though, Tobias distorts into Benjamin Cyrus and Spencer hears the rest of it: 'God wants to save you, that's the reason', but there is no one to stop the cult leader, Derek has long (since) left.

---

There are a few minutes of respite on the third day of the case. He’s left behind at the police station, and he recognizes it for what it is, Emily makes him sit with her.

She thinks the limb will not break. The thought of letting her down, after everything, is a pain that cuts worse than being stabbed, so he goes on.

But the itch from his arm spreads to his every muscle, and he wonders just how much of that trust was misplaced. He opts to ignore the problem until it reaches the point where he can’t.

He stares at the map. The clock is ticking and the unsub’s pattern of movement doesn’t become any clearer.

Before him, the red thumb tacks stand out at each point of interest. He reaches to touch them and flinches as doors slam open at the same moment that cries ring out in the distance. The victim’s mother. The gruesome picture of her son is pinned to a board next to the map, barely recognizable. From underneath the room to the ceiling, there’s a palpable sense of despair surrounding and coating everything.

The lights burn his eyes. When he rubs them everything blurs in his peripheral vision, there’s only that picture in the center, burned into the forefront of his mind.

He has done this a thousand times, he used to be able to do this in his sleep. But all eyes are on him, judging, waiting. He wishes he could push them all out of the room, to give himself the space to breathe, to think without the weight of expectation.

Three hours later, it all starts to disentangle in his brain. Three hours. It sends them on an uncertain trail, and it's the unsubs that find them first.

There are two of them, their build reminiscent of once upon a time in a prison cell. He knows something is intuitively wrong in the way his limbs slowly lock in place, it comes in increments, then all at once, and when his senses scream danger, when he feels their presence a breath away— and they might or might not even be there but his ribs distantly ache in reminiscence— but the moment catches up with him and before he can stop it, his vision starts to go black around the edges, and then all at once, there’s nothing.

He knows this because much later, when Luke is shaking him out of it, bringing him back to the surface, Spencer sees injuries on him that should never have been there. So he fills in the blanks and adds this to the growing list in his mind, of the times he's let someone down. It’s just a blip, in the face of everything he’s lost, but he can’t lie to himself and say it doesn’t matter.

He tastes blood in his mouth.

There is a point where he should have cut his losses.

It’s times like right now that he thinks of death. In the idle hours between the briefings, as he goes into the field to take down an unsub, and in the deafening silence and sweat he’s woken up in every morning ever since. More likely than not, he alternates between crippling fear and anger, anger and fear, each emotion an exchange that ultimately circles back to shameful want. Between wanting to die and wanting to flood his brain to the point of euphoria— to be so high there will be no chance of even a single thought permeating his head.

He fantasizes about having to face no one ever again in his miserable life, likes to go on with the idea that maybe he won’t have to for much longer.

It’s all that's left from what Cat Adams ate alive and spat out.

But Luke visibly exhales and Spencer looks heavenward. They both hold fast.

___

Cat Adams is in his nightmares. The lack of clarity or recall, realities meshing and mixing together with what precedes it. The telltale sign is when he can’t discern where ‘you want this’ ends and ‘trust me, tell me it doesn't make it better' begins. He knows then that Tobias can't help him.

A basement turns into a hotel room in Mexico, a hotel room into a laundry room and then into a prison cell— but there is a washing machine standing out of place against the wall, walls closing in, always. There is no relief to be found in this place.

Emily's words come to life in Cat's voice.

You'll find your soulmate in prison, and when it comes for you, in the middle of the night, when you're least expecting it, do me a favor... play along…

Fear sucks the air out of his lungs. It's akin to the familiar feeling of struggling to breathe, his back against the ground in a shed. He curses Tobias for bringing him back to life that day.

So he fires blindly, forgets all about front sight - trigger press - follow through, and keeps pulling the trigger when there are no more bullets in the chamber. He kills her ten times over but each time it's Tobias that dies, eyes wide in betrayal, blood pouring from his chest where the bullet went through, and Cat keeps standing.

Solace turns into poison in her hand, then poison into leeches. He watches outside of his body, paralyzed as they crawl and close in.

Don't be the boy who cried rape, Spencie

The washing machine spins, slow and ambient, as though the cycle is nearing its end.

---

It hits him when he jerks awake, dry heaving against the floor, arms weak and barely able to hold himself against the tremors each tide of nausea brings.

Cat Adams will never die. Not for as long as he still lives.

When he knows that he is alone in the room, he feels as his body curls in onto itself, fetal and fragile, the broken body of a man, and he weeps.

---

It's another two days hazy before they finally pack.

The air is dense and oppressive with a sticky humid heat. Out in the hallway, Luke is a few steps ahead of him when he loses sight of the man to the black dots that swarm his vision. He dips into the bathroom, feet carrying him blindly as his hands feel out porcelain. Leaning against the sink, Spencer splashes cold water over his face, letting it trickle down, then comes back to the bedroom area with quick steps, wanting to put this behind them as quickly as possible.

The smell is there again, of blood and detergent and sweat. He's rubbed his skin dry in hopes of getting rid of the phantom sensation of leeches.

As he moves to close the door, the toothbrush falls out of his sleeve, and onto the floor, a few inches from Luke's feet.

For a few seconds, as his collar sticks uncomfortably to his neck, he has an internal debate on which would be the less mortifying option: darting off into the dark of night, mortification intact, or staying and facing Luke (and possibly assuring him that he is in no danger of being stabbed with a shiv)

He silently mourns whatever progress he imagines he’s made in his teammate's eyes when the light-headedness comes. In the next seconds, the trembling from his fingertips moves up into his entire body. It's impossible to think past the growing noise of deafening static, the gravel filling his lungs.

When he looks up, Luke is standing still in front of his prone figure, he moves his hands before stopping himself, as if debating on the best course of action, and finally he closes his fists at his sides.

“Spence…” he starts, and Spencer must have been looking exactly the way he feels because Luke's usually sunny demeanor sours. "I can let the team know we had an issue with the car."

He can't read Luke well enough to know his thoughts on all of this, but Spencer knows this: he would be dead if not for him, and Luke never mentions it. To anyone. Ever.

But Spencer desperately wants to know, so he watches Luke watch him, manages a strained smile in place of verbal thanks, hoping to convey how much he appreciates the non-gesture.

Later, it must be by pure force of will that he’s able to drag himself back to their hotel room without stumbling once, but they make very slow progress as Luke looks back regularly to check on him.

Spencer intentionally keeps a few steps between them because the dangerous and ever-looming probability of throwing up within Luke's vicinity would be his last straw for today.

Having witnessed him at some of his lowest points within the first few months of knowing him, desperately, he wishes for this not to be the association he makes when he thinks of Spencer, doesn't want to make it even worse.

He wonders what Luke's last straw would be. He wonders how close he’s come to crossing that threshold.

My name is Spencer and I'm—

Doctor. Agent. Addict. Convict.

I thought it was over, But recently I'm— I've really been... Your literature uses the term craving.

But Luke says ‘you did great back there’. He squeezes his shoulder and Spencer is twenty-two, successfully solving his first case again. Clinging to this like a lifeline because he has been a free-falling disaster for months on end now. It feels like a personal recognition that it wasn't a monumental waste of time and effort for Luke to save his miserable life back in prison. It was worth something.

He says Spencer has an injury, and for a moment, everything wrong feels a little less inescapable.

The key card shakes in his hand as he hands it to Luke. Behind him, Spencer waits as he scans the room for a few seconds, left to right then right to left. It is hardly necessary, but it helps much more than he knows.

The stab wound on his thigh burns distantly on the fringe of his awareness. It barely registers when the full focus of Luke's gaze roots him to the spot. Slowly, his brain catches up, autonomic nervous system reengaging after the lag, and he remembers how to breathe, filling his lungs again, he exhales.

II.

He slides his fingers beneath the edge of the curtain, parting it slightly, it would allow the faintest amount of lights into the hotel room once all of the lights were off.

If Luke sees him do it, he doesn't comment.

Curious, Spencer glances over his shoulder, to where Luke is standing near the kitchenette, tension visible on the lines of his face. There is a scar, long since healed, the line of which is stark against Luke’s arm. An expanse of discolored skin curling from wrist to the sleeve of his shirt. Spencer observes and wonders how far it goes, and the extent of the things he’s survived.

He survived.

Elle, you’re here, he’s dead, you won!

He bites his tongue, lets this thought vanish along with the tendrils of smoke emanating from whatever drink Luke is making. He won’t be making this mistake again.

“Luke means bringer of light.” He says instead, as if contemplating something he already knew. When Luke turns to face him, Spencer doesn’t meet his stare, eyes fixed on where he thinks that scar ends— probably on the inner arm between shoulder and elbow. If he could put his hand there, he imagines he would feel the persistent, slow pulse of his heart through his palms.

He pulls himself together when Luke places a mug before him, careful in his movements not to touch him. Maybe he would have, if touching inmates was allowed. Maybe.

The movement causes a pendant to fall out of the collar of Luke’s shirt, a few inches from Spencer’s face. He reaches forward to grasp it before he can think better of it. Then embarrassed by the unconstrained reflex, he lets go.

Luke shrugs off and unclasps his necklace, holding it out for Spencer to take.

"From my very catholic mother. She gave it to me a few years ago, in 2007." His eyes cloud for a moment "It's—"

"Raphael the Archangel." Spencer continues, transfixed.

They believe you can see inside men's minds.

Held by the two of them, the necklace is glimmering with silver light, and he thinks of synchronicity.

"Patron Saint of Healing." Luke finishes.

"Patron Saint of Healing." Spencer repeats slowly. Laughter bubbles from his throat at the irony, he pushes it down, not wanting Luke to think he's lost it.

So in an attempt to add some levity, he asks "No Saint Luke medallion?"

A sparkle comes back into Luke's eyes.

"That—" he starts with a smile "Would be for you, Doctor. But in the meanwhile you might just have to settle for me."

"If you’ll have me." Spencer replies on reflex, it comes out more seamlessly than he expects.

Luke is watching him when he risks looking up, he doesn't take the necklace back. Instead he walks around one last time, checking the exits.

"All good?"

"Yeah."

After sparing him one last look, Luke drags a chair up against the foot of his bed, crosses his arms, and sits facing the door.

After one last look at Luke, Spencer’s eyes close slowly, falling into sleep but not dreams.

---

On the jet, the screen of his phone lights up with Derek’s name. With slow steps, he moves to the single seat facing the back of the plane.

"Emily said you didn't want me to know. I should have been there…" His disembodied voice echoes in the receiver, Spencer thinks he probably couldn’t hold the question in any longer.

That is the issue, isn't it? He can't bring himself to lie, but the truth sounds too self-pitying right about now, and he finds himself irrationally peeved by both options.

In a moment of drawn out silence, he simply draws a blank.

The idea of inflicting the disaster that had become his life on Derek, on top of living with himself was suffocating at best. So even though the choice had felt impossible to make, it always had only one right answer, because he knows if he ever owed it to do right by someone, it would be him.

He had tried to imagine Morgan's reaction many times. Over the hundred versions of Derek that he had made up in his mind, one of them starts to consider that he named his son after Nadie’s murderer. That seed of doubt had paralyzed him. Still does.

"Are you still there?"

Spencer blinks, "I'm still there." The tug of memory ironic in the face of his mirrored word choice.

"Okay," Derek offers, "We don't have to talk about it right now."

There is an undercurrent of hurt in his voice that makes Spencer second guess himself anyway.

“It was not that—” He stops himself before he can add that bad, an absolutely meaningless sentiment.

“Don’t— please don’t” Derek says, “…Come on man, who do you think you’re talking to?”

"I m-meant…"

The truth, he starts to realize, is that he might never truly come back from this. The bleaker truth is that finds very little solace in the fact that Derek might be able to connect to a part of his ordeal. The contrast is so stark between their experiences that shame pools deep into his guts at the prospect of even bringing it up.

Not that he has anything solid to bring up but the alarming gaps in his memory and the constant need to crawl out of his skin.

It won’t do anyone any good now.

“I wanted to…” He concedes in the end, because he is fundamentally weak.

“...I know you did.” Morgan replies and the way his voice sounds almost pained makes him dig his fingernails into his arm in turn.

“Could we… talk about the house now?”

“Alright. We can talk about the house instead.” Derek mercifully relents. “...you want to try your hand at restoration?”

“Do you think I’d be any good at it?”

“I’d like to think that.”

---

"We're going to stop at mine for a minute to feed Roxy. That alright?" Luke glances over at him from behind the wheel, having just put the SUV in park outside of his apartment.

"Roxy doesn't seem to hate me and that’s as close as I came to getting along with a dog. So I'm doing great on that front." Spencer adds, trying to brush away the moment of hesitation into something more pliant and willing.

"Hah! Come up for a sec?"

From the threshold of Luke's apartment, he peers at a man coming up the hallway stairs with freshly folded laundry, waving at Luke, nodding in his direction.

"You're in the FBI too?" he asks amiably.

When two more come up, Spencer takes a few steps deeper into the apartment.

There it is again.

The smell of detergent permeating the air. There are too many people in this space and now all of them possibly know that he is a federal agent. They all heard. Sweat forms on his palms and he struggles to pull himself together as a fit of suffocating panic twists into his chest.

Luke eyes him strangely. Maybe he too knows.

You can't trust anyone Spencer, just you and me—

Luke follows his line of vision as he eyes the nearest knife in the open kitchen area.

The lights flicker. Between the space of one blink to the next, the metal doors close in, the inmates jeer, their laughter a sadistic cacophony. There are hands on him. He can't possibly fight them all off.

He’s going to die in here. He’s going to die he is going to die—

So he makes a run for the knife, yanks it, and fights against the hand that tries to pull his arm out of the way.

Narrowly he misses his own thigh, the old stab wound that saved him from the other inmates there, and it gets planted in his bad knee. There’s not enough flesh for it to take hold and before long, the knife is thrown a few feet away by the same hand from before.

Immediately he loses balance and falls. Luke follows. As his head hits the ground, Spencer laughs in bitter triumph. Everything else is drowned by the clanking of the metal and the sounds of barking in the distance.

It isn't like difficult, it's hard like asphalt is hard, like pavement.

He knows he must be crying because his chest is heaving, can hear the way his body is wracked in sobs.

He must have crossed that threshold now.

All because he never learned how to bury things and put them to rest. It was only a matter of time before it inevitably circled back to this, like his own thoughts that can’t be silenced no matter how much he wishes to just put it all in a box and shove it down in a basement, buried deeper, like the memory of Riley Jenkins before it came back to haunt him because his mind is a treacherous thing.

Vibrations hum through his skin. There is light, voices shouting, saying things that make no sense anymore, slippery and intangible. When he can focus again, he finds that his chest doesn't feel like bursting anymore. That there is a weight on top of him, a soft whine echoing in the empty space.

All is still.

And he breathes. There’s a familiar weight on his chest, Roxy laying on top of him, his brain supplies, heavy, tangible…real.

"—cer it's Luke, you're in my kitchen."

"Luke", he repeats, the words disjointed and on a delay.

Luke’s elbow is supporting his weight against the floor, a forlorn look on his face. When the dust finally settles, and the world comes back to focus, he is the one Spencer sees with clarity.

"Can you tell me what you see now?"

"… a painting, kitchen counter, a couch, Roxy?"

"Yeah" Luke smiles, though it is devoid of happiness "This isn't the first time she’s seen this.”

"You?"

He shifts to lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, until they’re mirroring each other.

"I was sure I'd never feel safe again." Luke says "I’ve cried to her, more times than I can count."

It's not that Spencer doesn't recognize the signs. He knows he can make sense of it, maybe in the same way his only certainty was that everything stopped making sense in his life, from the moment he came down from his drug-induced haze in a prison cell in Mexico, but it tips the scales to have it vocalized by someone who has ended up as the person he sees now.

“Did it ever go away?”

“Not all at once, not ever entirely... not on my own.” As he says the last part, Luke fully turns to him "It ebbs and flows, but it won't always be like this."

Gratitude courses through him in slow, steady trickles. Through it all, he finds himself searching for the gaze that he knows will pin him to the spot, but his eyes are drawn to how over the steadying rise and fall of his chest, Luke’s hand is shaking slightly.

Spencer reaches out, hesitates, puts his hand just half an inch away from Luke's shoulder.

"You're safe here. Right now. Do you believe that?" Luke asks him.

He does. He does.

So he nods when the words don’t come to his throat.

As exhaustion sinks into his bones, Spencer runs his hand through the dense fur at the back of Roxy's neck, rubbing the soft strands between his fingertips. He thinks of cumuliform heaps, of his mother, of plucking his favorite clouds.

He thinks of her hiding in the dark. Her screams, almost as gut-wrenching as the impact of her blows. Then of her offering to read to him. He imagines her voice, a moment of solace in the desolate landscape of his life, and closes his eyes to the memory.

We have knocked at every door and they open on nothing until, at last, we stumble unconsciously against the only one through which we can enter the kingdom we have sought in vain a hundred years— and it opens

"I need help", He finally voices.

"And you'll be alright." Luke smiles. Maybe part of him can believe that too.

Slowly, as if not to spook him further, Luke moves to stand up. The cluster lights reflect in his eyes, and even though nothing about him really changes, looking at him surrounded by shafts of golden light, Spencer thinks something about this image should be branded, an indelible imprint in his mind. So he solemnly memorizes every shape, every contour, every color.

"Can you hold on to me? I'll help you up."

Then he blinks and the image is all but gone from his mind. His hands are shaky but he complies before he can give himself the chance to think about it, to talk himself out of it, because here and now, nothing is more tangible than the presence of Luke Alvez.

Like the hand that once guided him to safety in Mexico, it's an anchor so miraculous he sometimes imagines he manifested it himself, right as he was sure he would meet his end.

"Alright, here we go."

They rise together, slow and unsteady, he staggers, catches himself putting them face to chest. Spencer has the strange thought that if he were to lean forward, he would be close enough to hear a faint flutter, to make out the machinery of Luke's heart. He shakes off the thoughts, disentangling himself when the acceptable amount of time to awkwardly clutch onto someone passes.

But his hands don't stop holding on.

"I can't thank you enough." He says.

That easygoing smile is back on Luke's face, and with that, the full force of his focus on him. Reid’s heart trembles in his chest. Maybe Luke can feel it too, but it's alright because he can always just blame it on his earlier breakdown.

"It’s good to have you back, Doc."

---

He’s fiddling with the ends of the bandage wrapped around his knee, sitting on a counter stool, while his other hand holds the phone to his ear.

“Penelope told me you guys were done with the case a few days ago— and you didn’t call me back, you idiot." Derek chides. When the phone had rang, Luke, perhaps recognizing his need for privacy, had squeezed his shoulder and left him to it.

Spencer runs his hand through his hair “I had a… thing come up.”

"A thing." Derek pauses, his tone still speaks of unveiled concern, but he quickly catches himself, "Mmkay... I think I should come over— and smack you over the head, for good measure."

Before it has time to form, Spencer quickly blinks away the moisture from his eyes, "Yeah I think you should do that, actually."

"Yeah? Glad we agree." Morgan says, in a much lighter voice "... How was today?"

"There’s been late nights—" and with as much sincerity as he can muster, he quickly adds "But much better than yesterday."

"My man!" Derek exclaims then, as though he has been let in on a secret Spencer himself is not aware of. It’s reminiscent of the proud voice that was so off the mark, a decade ago.

"Still not that kind of late night, Morgan."

"Right right. So listen, you need my help with repainting that house or…?"

A welcome diversion then.

"I do, yeah. I would love your help."

If pressed, Spencer would admit there has never been a point in his life, ever since he’s known Derek Morgan, that he did not need him. As hard as he’s tried to extricate himself from this, because he grew up being constantly on the defensive, it’s as inescapable as the gravitational pull of his presence, the vast extent of his heart.

"Got it. It will be fixed in no time, kid."

Spencer's lips arch into a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I need to tell you something else, though."

"Hm?"

"Luke Alvez. He reached out to me a few days ago— that night I couldn't sleep."

"Luke he— what?"

"I think he wanted to help you, and was met with one thing where he found himself out of his depth. It's… something you said in your sleep."

"What did I say?"

"Nine years ago, you and I were staying with the Bridges family. You had a nightmare in their living room that night."

Morgan get them off! Get them off me! Get them off me! Morgan! Get them off me!

"That’s why I was the one he called … and part of me has been trying to backtrack out of getting through to you because I couldn't bring myself to…" There’s a beat of silence as he tries to find his words, "But I first need you to know that … well … you know."

Though it is an affirmation, Derek’s voice hangs like a question, and Spencer is thrown back to that night, standing a few feet from his front door, tasting victory and crushing defeat simultaneously, and Derek not finding the words, holding him steady as he crumbles. Morgan hadn't needed to say anything out loud for him to understand.

"I know", he manages, as his own voice cracks before he can catch himself to stop it, "I know."

Overwhelmed, he starts to pace in the small space of Luke’s kitchen, rubs his fingers over his palms. He pictures a bright smile in his mind's eye and soaks in these familiar patterns that mend the faintly bruised parts of his heart, an old ache from months ago.

“So listen to me … I know how scary it must feel for you right now. And you know—” Derek’s voice fades off for a few seconds during which Spencer stops breathing entirely, “...You know how shame once tore me apart. You know that."

"I don't want that for you, kid… So will you talk to me about it? One day?”

Spencer swallows a sob, nods to himself, trying to ignore the tightness in his throat and the way the phone’s receiver sticks to the side of his face.

“I will,” He pauses, “I want to tell you Morgan, and I will.” The next words slip out before he can stop himself “I missed you.”

"I’ll always be in your corner." Morgan breathes, something private just between the two of them, then in a more lively voice, "Alright, see you soon. Play on playa~"

The way the laugh sputters from Reid’s lips is so sudden that it nearly throws him off balance.

Like waves washing ashore and fading away, the tremors come and go, and in an ultimate act, they leave him entirely. Maybe things have changed, they will keep changing certainly, but in his own private heart of hearts, this, he allows himself to think, can never be lost.

“I’m still here, there’s a third thing I forgot to say.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m proud of you.”

---

Neither of them slept. In the quiet hours of the morning, Luke makes him sit down with him to stop him from pacing, reminding him of his bad knee that just got a little bit worse from the self-inflicted injury. Roxy is soon to follow. Beyond the window to Luke’s living room, the cityscape is progressively enveloped in a curtain of rich gold and reds and brown. Soon it would be glowing on them too, illuminating everything in turn.

Still, Spencer stays unsettled for a few seconds longer.

"I'm really sorry for this though.” He starts, “I will apologize to your neighbors."

Through the dull pain, the remnants of embarrassment are slowly fading. He can focus on the soft weight of Roxy's head pressed on his lap and tune out anything that happens beyond that.

"Hey, it's all good, man. Keeps them on their toes."

He chuckles, a soft tremor filled with genuine intent.

"Don't be sorry, Spence. I got you, alright?", Luke insists, reassuringly earnest, "It's fine not to figure everything out just yet, but you have me, I meant that. Whenever you're ready, you take the leap."

Spencer’s gaze trails from Luke’s face, the deep-set brown of his gaze, and down to his bandaged wrist, his hands, they’ve stopped shaking.

"What’s the apprehension?" He asks, snapping Spencer out of it.

There was the truth, so simple it didn’t feel dismaying in here.

"That the next setback will happen before I have time to figure my way out of this one."

"If it happens—" Luke starts, "We'll make time to pick up where you left off."

We.

He will be there, Spencer quietly repeats in his mind, two or three times for good measure. He tests the feeling of it under his breath, quietly enough for only himself to hear, and revels in the fact that this is something he believes in with utmost certainty.

Everything is up there.

For Luke crossing his path one day, hearing him and turning up when it mattered, the world will be a little better too.

"But you have quite the reputation so I believe you'll turn it around."

"Well...", Spencer pauses, and with the hushed tone of someone sharing a secret, he leans in and says "I'm something of a magician myself."

"Yeah?" Luke's frame is shaking with mirth. "Tell me about that, Doc!"

We pluck what we want when we want and let go of what we don't.

"I can't deal all of my cards just yet."

"Ooh, I liiike it!" Something foreign stirs in his heart at the sound of Luke’s laughter, and Spencer feels intoxicated with a kind of effortless joy, because it is something he caused. A blossoming warmth that is threatening to overflow and engulf him whole— that saving his life was not a waste.

In truth, when it comes to people and their circumstances, nothing is ever certain, but even if he finds himself paralyzed by everything that came and everything that is to come again, this, here right now: he wants to open that door wide and live to see it through, and maybe people, like love, endure like that.

When Roxy wags her tail in his lap, Spencer presses his palm on the top of her head in silent gratitude. For these few minutes, as the first rays of the rising sun start filtering through the window, existing in the present feels easy.

There’s a shift on his left where he can see Luke place his right hand behind Roxy’s ear, an inch or so from his own. When he smiles, it's radiant and sprinkled in sunlight, a scenery of quiet wonder that lifts the remaining burden from Spencer's shoulders.

Changes, he thinks.

Kid, it isn't always a bad thing.

“I’m sure I have a thing up my sleeve that can surprise you.” Comes the sing-song voice, and Luke— performing a sleight of hand that is as clumsily executed as it is fascinating— produces Spencer's discarded chip out of his left hand, pride painted all over his features.

So Spencer allows the surprise to set in, letting the magic course through the walls of his chest. Then he grasps Luke's hand, and takes the leap.

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Lyutsifer Safin X Fem!Reader Angsty Prompt with a cute and fluffy moment

!TW: Gun, word ‘kill’, violence, implied captivity, mention of being anxious (not extremely detailed), mention of nightmare, word ‘murdered’, implied mention of bullying, mention of rape/word ‘raped’, mention of assault/being beaten up!

“Stop!” James cried; he couldn’t believe what you were doing as you threatened him with a gun after Safin had commanded for you to kill him. You faltered, a pained expression on your face. “Don’t do this, Y/n,” James begged, his voice trembling, “you’re better than this.”

You then started crying, and you subconsciously lowered the gun. “I can’t do this!” You cried, before you ran out of the cell, and past Safin, who grunted, disappointed that you’d disobeyed his order.

Safin rushed after you after he’d slammed the cell door shut, and you would be startled when he grabbed you and pinned you roughly against the wall. “Why must you keep disobeying me!?” Safin shouted, and you whimpered, before you began to sob uncontrollably, frightened.

“I’m sorry!” You shrieked, and Safin felt his heart soften as his grip on your shoulders began to loosen. “I - I can’t kill people, Safin,” you whined, “I just can’t!”

Safin nodded gravely, before he stepped back, trying not to think anything of it. “Then you don’t have to, kitten,” Safin decided reluctantly, before he began to walk away, disheartening you as you guessed that he was upset, and you hated to upset him.

↯

You quietly slid into bed beside him; you’d tried to sleep in your old cell as you felt as if you didn’t belong in the bedroom with him after what happened, until you began to feel extremely uncomfortable on the concrete floor. You expressed concern when you heard Safin whimpering next to you, and you shuffled closer to him, frowning when you noticed that he was even shaking a little bit, too. “Safin,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him slowly, startling him as he broke free of your hold. “Safin, stop!” You cried, but in his efforts to get away from you, he fell off of the bed. You quickly climbed out of bed, and expressed relief when he seemed okay, shuffling backwards and hugging his knees to his chest. You crouched down beside him, making him anxious as he looked away from you. “It’s okay,” you whispered, “it’s just me, Safin.” Safin hesitantly let you wrap your arms around him so you could hold him closer to you, and you tried to comfort him by playing with his hair. “Were you having a nightmare?” You inquired, and Safin winced when he was reminded of it, a pained expression on his face. “What happened?” You pried, and Safin glanced up at you, his dark greyish blue eyes glistening.

Safin then couldn’t hold his emotions back any longer as he began to cry, and he buried his face in your shoulder as he began to sob in a strained way. “They’re going to kill me,” Safin whispered shakily, and you felt your heart sink as you guessed that he must have been having a nightmare about the banquet when his family were murdered. “I need your help, please,” Safin continued, and you tried to soothe him by rubbing his back; you hated to see him like this.

“They can’t hurt you now, Safin,” you responded gently, and he hoped that you were right as he reluctantly lifted his head to meet your searching gaze. You smiled reassuringly down at him, and he smiled weakly back, before he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you.

𖧷☭𖤍

“I can’t believe I trusted you,” James murmured; Safin had reluctantly let you speak to him, with one of his security men listening to you both by the door. “I can’t believe I ever thought I could trust you with my life,” James added, scoffing at himself.

You nodded gravely, looking away from him. “You were a fool to trust someone like me,” you responded, and James agreed, wishing, for a brief moment, that he’d never met you, but he felt guilty immediately after he’d made that wish. “I guess you could say that I’m a person who is easily swayed,” you stated, and James nodded, and he couldn’t help, but chuckle softly as he thought about how you were when you and him were together.

“You definitely are,” he corroborated, and you smiled weakly up at him.

𖧷☭𖤍

You walked into the bedroom after having a shower, and would be surprised to see a small teddy that looked familiar on the bed. You sat down on the edge of the bed, before you picked up the slightly tattered teddy, staring down at it. “I found it for you.” You looked up when Safin’s warm voice broke the silence, and you would be surprised.

“Wait - It was you? You - Went back to find it for me?” You responded, your voice quiet, and tone thoughtful.

Safin nodded, before he sat beside you. “I wanted to find it for you, after you told me you’d buried it outside of your house,” Safin explained, “I could see that it meant a lot to you, and I wanted to reunite you with it.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” you admitted, smiling softly down at the teddy.

“I remember everything you tell me,” Safin replied, and you pulled him into a hug. Safin smiled warmly, before he returned the hug, glad that he’d made you happy.

𖧷☭𖤍

You would be surprised to wake up during the night to Safin gently shaking you, his hand on your shoulder. “What’s going on?” You inquired, yawning as you were exhausted; you hated being woken up during the night, but wouldn’t dare tell him that.

“I need to leave for a little while, kitten,” Safin answered, his voice soft.

You frowned, shaking your head as you turned your body to face him fully. “When will you come back?” You inquired, and Safin felt guilty; he knew he shouldn’t tell you as he knew you’d be even more upset.

“I won’t be gone long, I promise,” Safin answered, and you shuffled closer to him.

“You - You’ll be back soon, right?” You pried, your voice briefly trembling; you hated being away from him. Safin hesitated, before he nodded. “Safin,” you whined; you’d noticed his hesitation. “C-Can’t I come with you to wherever you’re going?” You asked, desperate as you sat up.

Safin sighed, shaking his head; he couldn’t put you in danger. “You know you can’t, Y/n,” Safin murmured, a pained expression on his face.

“Please don’t go,” you begged, hugging him tightly.

Safin wrapped his arms around you, wishing he could stay with you. “I’m sorry, kitten,” Safin whispered, rubbing your back to comfort you. “I’ll come back as soon as I can, Y/n,” Safin assured, “just distract yourself with Sylvia, and the workers will take care of the garden, so you don’t have to worry about it; I know you’ve grown quite fond of it, now. I’ll be back before you know it.”

𖧷☭𖤍

You were anxious as you knew that you were more vulnerable to his workers that would push you around now that Safin was gone, and you occasionally heard them talking quietly when you were nearby with Sylvia. You tried to shake them from your mind, but found that you were always nervous and fidgety whenever you left you and Safin’s bedroom. “Hey!” You would feel your blood run cold when you heard a cold voice behind you, and you slowly turned around. When you recognised that it was the worker who had actually raped you and beat you up, you panicked, turning to run away, but you were being surrounded by a few of the other workers who clearly despised you. “You can’t run away this time,” the man stated the obvious, and you whimpered, shaking your head quickly as you began to cry.

↯

When Safin had finally returned, you told him about what they did to you, and how you had been raped again, and he was not only angry at them, but he also appeared angry at you, at first. “Why would you let them do that to you!?” Safin yelled, and you stepped back, feeling your body beginning to tremble.

“I - I had no choice, Safin, I was s-surrounded,” you stammered, tears filling your eyes, and a lump forming in your throat. Safin grunted, beginning to pace; he knew it wasn’t your fault, but he was struggling to control his anger. Safin then made to open the door, but you stopped him, catching his arm. Safin scowled, shoving you away from him gingerly. You couldn’t believe he was treating you like this after his workers had beat you up and one of them had raped you again. “You - You can’t leave me alone like this!” You cried, and Safin faltered, looking back at you. Safin hardened his heart against you, before he stormed out of the bedroom.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this prompt! ❤️

[trauma-culture-is]

tw tags masterlist

if it’s implied, i tag #implied [x], for a brief mention, i tag #[x] mention, if the ask goes into more detail or is about something i tag it #[x] cw. some older posts might have #[x] tw instead

the bullet points are "parent tags" of the indented ones below them- that is, any posts that have an indented tag will also have the "parent tag". this will be useful for blocking an entire subject without filtering a dozen tags, or if something falls under a broad category (i.e. discrimination) but is hard to tag in more specific ways

abuse

emotional abuse domestic abuse sexual abuse / sa (i tag both variations) manipulation gaslighting neglect medical neglect

trauma response (tagged after feb 14 2023)

flashback panic attack (tagged after feb 14 2023) ptsd attack

bullying

drowning

violence

assault

stalking

injury

eye injury

sa

sexual assault rape cocsa (child-on-child sexual abuse/assault)

abandonment

death

death threats murder animal death suicide suicidal ideation sui bait

addiction

drug

alcohol

religion

cult

unhealthy coping mechanism (tagged after feb 14 2023)

invalidation self blame repression self harm / sh desensitization

discrimination (tagged after feb 14 2023)

ableism transphobia fatphobia homophobia

dysphoria

medical trauma

psychiatric trauma

unreality

paranoia (may not be thoroughly tagged)

swearing (this one is not thoroughly tagged)

caps (tagged as “#caps”, may not be thoroughly tagged)

[vicktoryscreech]

i wanna watch kinnporsche but the first episode was hard to get through for me. does anyone know where i can find trigger warnings for it?

There are currently 10/14 episodes out now and from the top of my head, these are the unofficial trigger warnings:

• Episode 1: general mafia-esque violence, thugs being violent, on screen deaths, guns, underground fighting, gun fights, physical violence, brief sexual content

• Episode 2: incompetence, public humiliation, a bloody brat in a koi fish pond, guns, attempted homicide by a pretty assassin, choking/physical violence

• Episode 3: debauchery, physical violence (aka, someone beaten up), guns, gunshot wound, drunken kisses

• Episode 4: lowkey mafia rivalry between cousins, drugging (date rape drug/GHB), dubious/non-con, explicit sex whilst one participant is enthusiastic but still drugged

• Episode 5: painful emotional turmoil, light sleuthing/manipulation, physical punishment, brief sexual content, guns, gun fights, kidnapping, physical violence

• Episode 6: idiocy, talking about chopping hands off, guns, a knife, gun fights, main character gets shot in the left shoulder

Side story (youtube): light manipulation, Vegas as its own warning

• Episode 7: grenade, physical violence, semi explicit torture, sleuthing/manipulation, gruesome torture aftermath, bloody raincoats, gun violence, mention of drugs, multiple on screen deaths, explicit "mutual masturbation" sex scene

• Episode 8: typical implied sexual content (but not too explicit, just heavy makeouts), phallic talisman, idiocy

• Episode 9: toxic evil ex from hell comes back, Tawan is it's own warning, light nudity, implied sexual content, betrayal, sleuthing/manipulation, unholiness in a temple of all places

• Episode 10: guns, gun violence, kidnapping and drugging, physical violence/altercation, multiple on screen deaths, major character(s) death, decapitation, blood, explosions, manipulation/sleuthing, explicit torture

As expected, this is a mafia setting...

OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU

ep 11 tws ep 12 tws ep 13 tws ep 14 tws

[forbiddendrabbles]

Masterlist and Links

Links

Art Blog Main Blog Fanfiction.Net Profile AO3 Profile Prompt Masterlist Drabbles/Original Work Masterlist

Masterlist

Current In-Progress Works (Updated 2/28/2024):

✍️ Physical Education AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: The akuma class came to school expecting a normal lesson. They did not expect to be frisked and told they won’t be going home for the rest of the sexual education unit. Marinette and Adrien especially didn’t expect to be to be demonstrating as live models.

✍️ A Pretty Good Bad Idea AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Explicit Summary: For The More The Merrier Poly Ship Event 2024, hosted by the Miraculous Writers' Circle. ~ “We’ve been, uh… discussing the possibility of having a threesome,” he admits, quiet enough that only she hears. “With a woman,” he tacks on. Marinette takes a moment to appreciate her former partner and his husband. She traced the lines of their figures, eyes dancing across their muscular forms. Downing a shot, she looks at the two men before her. “I’ll do it, if you want.”

On-Hiatus Works (Updated 9/10/2023):

✍️ The Queen of Mean AO3 FFN

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: Inspired by "The Queen of Mean" from Descendants 3 and a deleted fanfic. When Lila pushes Marinette too far, she finally snaps. It's up to Adrien to figure out if he can bring her back. Love square-centric. ON TEMPORARY HIATUS. READ THE TAGS (Author Profile on FFN!!!). I do my best to keep triggers updated in the tags and in each chapter's notes. (It's too long of a list to put on here)

✍️ Save Me  FFN

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: Mature (Explicit) Summary: Eliora Turner was not your average girl. The physical/mental abuse that went on at home destroy her. Until one day, a man calling himself the Doctor decides to help her. If she can stop trying to kill him, that is. TW: Rape, Self-harm, Abuse, Mentions of Substance Abuse, Sexual Assault, Eating Disorder(s), Depression/Anxiety, Violence, Scars, light BDSM elements. SMUT. On-Hiatus. (9/1/2023) Current Status of Save Me: I'm probably going to put it on permanent hiatus/discontinued and post what I have left, but I need to sit down and actually get that uploaded, which I haven't had the time or concentration for.

Completed Works (Updated 3/5/2024):

✍️ Dead Girl Walking  AO3 FFN

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: One-shot Songfic based on "Dead Girl Walking" from Heathers the Musical. Inspired by a line at the end of Chapter 14 in designnette's "Surfaced" on AO3, where Adrien asked if Ladybug broke his window, and that lead me to writing this fic. When Lila tells Marinette she has until 8am on Monday before her social life dies, Marinette can think of only one thing she wants to do. Or rather, one person. Smut. Oneshot. TW: Drinking, Dub-Con (if you squint), Panic Attack, light BDSM

✍️ Our Hope AO3 FFN Tumblr

Fandom: The Thundermans Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Backstory for this: was in the mood for some good old-fashioned thundercest and came across @bbshipper21‘s fic “Brownies, kisses and confessions.” Then I was scrolling through to see if there were more pieces farther back in their blog and came across this prompt. I don’t know if the people they tagged ever wrote anything, but I really wanted to try. I’ve never written for this ship, and I normally write in the first person, not the third, so this is probably a little bit awkward, but I figured I would post it anyways. I don’t know if @bbshipper21 is still active, but if they see this, I hope I did it justice. TW: Incest (Max/Phoebe), Brief Suicidal Thoughts/Actions

✍️ I'm Gone, Gone, Gone, Gone AO3

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Summary: He thought of Robin. Robin is magic, he once said. Robin is a symbol of hope. Jason didn’t have any left. TW: Suicide, Self-harm, Alcoholism, Sleeping Pills, Depression, Gun Violence

✍️ Coffee is Still Better AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: My gift exchange fic for the Maribat? Get In! Discord 2023/24 New Years Gift Exchange! ~𐀔~ The noxious aroma polluted the streets, subjecting the poor Parisians to the smell of burning gingerbread cookies. Wait—burning gingerbread cookies?

✍️ Crushed Shell  AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Title says it all, honestly. TW: Major Character Death

Series - Requests

✍️ Sweet Sixteen and Ten Emotions AO3 FFN

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Requested by JBlaser on Fanfiction.net. When Chloe's mother breaks a promise, her best friend tries to show everyone who Chloe is inside. It doesn't quite go as planned, though. Reveal, but not a big part of the plot. Oneshot.

✍️ Hard Earned Knowledge AO3 FFN

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Requested by Raxius on Fanfiction.net. After Shanghai, Adrien begins to tutor Marinette while Mei Shi begins to tutor Fei, and Gabriel…well, he’s coping with the things *he* learned. Oneshot. TW: mentions of death, grief, unhealthy coping, therapist making light of the situation. If the Mandarin is wrong, blame Google Translate XD

✍️ Pink AO3 FFN

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: Requested by Raxius on Fanfiction.net. Set during Mr. Pigeon 72, Adrien can’t help but turning a little bit pink when he notices someone’s pink swimsuit. Or: Adrien, unfortunately, is a teenage guy. Oneshot. I did my best to make the story realistic to canon age-wise, but closer to reality in content. Puberty is rough, man. I am not a male, so I apologize if his actions are not 100% accurate in the eyes of someone who has a male appendage. I hope I did it justice though, as it was a big part of the plot. TW: Sexual situations/thoughts of minors, puberty

Series - Miraculous Writers' Circle Sprint Fic Challenges

✍️ Secret Passageways AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: When sneaking into the Agreste house to secretly meet up with Adrien, Marinette accidentally finds a secret passageway and decides to investigate.

✍️ Love Child AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Surprise! Character A has been hit by the ray of an akuma and is now pregnant! The catch? The other parent is the last non-familial person they said 'I love you' to... and Character A doesn't remember who that was! Write about A's journey solving this strange conundrum.

✍️ Hello Darkness, My Old Friend AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! Marinette has lost an earring, and is understandably freaking out. Well… we understand. But I want you to write this from the perspective of someone who doesn’t. A classmate or a parent or a passing citizen who can’t understand why Marinette is panicking so much over a €5 pair of earrings. It’s no big deal, right?

✍️ What's in a Name? AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: The first thing Marinette realized when she woke up was that she was cold. The second thing she realized was that she was laid on a steel beam at the top of the Eiffel Tower, in her pajamas…

✍️ Tag Teamed on the Tower AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: The first thing Marinette realized when she woke up was that she was cold. The second thing she realized was that she was laid on a steel beam at the top of the Eiffel Tower, in her pajamas… NSFW version Part One of Tag Teamed on the Tower: The Series

✍️ Joined at the Hips AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit (to be safe, could probably be Mature) Summary: An Unexpected Day Off: your character woke up this morning to find their kwami gone, and their miraculous still there, but powered down… with no explanation. Write about how they feel, and what they do. Are the other holders in the same position?

✍️ You See Me on the Cover of a Magazine AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Mature (to be safe, could probably be Teen and Up Audiences) Summary: While reading their favorite book, your character is hit by an akuma and magically sent into the book and is now the main character! Write about what happens!

✍️ The Sound of Soul AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Luka enjoys hearing other people's music as it gives him such a clear view of that person and their personality... Except for [character]'s music has always confused Luka... and he wants to figure out why.

✍️ Tipped Off AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: An anonymous tip on the Ladyblog has warned that Adrien Agreste is Hawkmoth’s next target. Ladybug wants one of them to be with him at all times until the threat has passed. Adrien isn’t too worried about pulling this off, apart from the confusing issue that his father has taken a sudden interest in his life… Write about Ladybug staying for a very uncomfortable dinner with Adrien, Gabriel, and Nathalie.

✍️ It's Not Buggabye AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Marinette’s identity is revealed very publicly and she has to renounce guardianship to save the miraculous. Marinette is now famous and loved for protecting Paris. The problem is she doesn’t remember any of it and has no idea what’s going on.

✍️ Suspects to Agreste AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: Reclusive fashion designer Gabriel Agreste has gone missing. Who are Roger’s prime suspects and more importantly - why?

✍️ With a Kiss...or Four. AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Chat Noir and Ladybug are simultaneously knocked out during a battle and, not knowing what else to do, Plagg and Tikki go on the search to find someone to defeat the akuma in their absence... ... enter Luka who is now in possession of the cat and ladybug miraculous and the task of saving the day.

✍️ The Mother is in the Basement AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: A woman claiming to be Emilie Agreste just called Ladybug and Cat Noir on Ladybug’s communicator, begging for help.

✍️ A Big, Bright, Beautiful World AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Oh no! Baby August has been hit by a grow laser and is now ten stories tall! But, weirdly, it's not an akumatization! How will the heroes deal with this?

✍️ Like a Thief in the Night AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Chat Noir only breaks into the MDC boutique because his father's heard rumors of a lost jewel, part of the miraculous collection. Instead, he discovers just how much the neighborhood-loved business has been struggling when he finds a blow-up mattress in the back. And a petite woman swinging a frying pan at his face.

✍️ Buzz Buzz Bitch AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: It's common knowledge that catnip has a strong effect on cats... however, no one thought they'd encounter something similar for ladybugs! Now Chat Noir, Viperion, Rena Rouge, and the rest of the team have to figure out how to defeat an akuma while also dealing with their increasingly affectionate, blissed out leader.

✍️ I'm Very Bemused. Is This The News? AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: “Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news: Breaking news: Ladybug and Cat Noir are currently… robbing a bank? I… bear with me a moment, viewers… am I reading this right? …Yes? Yes, this just in! Our favourite superheroes are robbing a bank, apparently? Uh… we go live now to our reporter at the scene…”

✍️ Mend the Bond AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: His mother always told him tales of the knitting fairy. Every time he fell and ripped his clothing, he would leave a small trinket of offering and she would visit in the night to mend them. Of course, now that he was grown he knew she couldn’t possibly be real. Couldn’t… possibly…

✍️ You Can't Always Get What You Want AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: When Tikki awakened after a hundred years to a new holder, she was expecting someone young and ready to go. She wasn't expecting a middle aged rock star with a pet alligator as her new holder! What had Fu been thinking?!

✍️ Signs of Hearing Loss AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: The Sound of Silence - the entire world woke up today unable to speak. There’s probably an akuma behind it… Nothing else seems to be amiss so everyone has to go about their day as normal and sit tight, waiting for Ladybug and Cat Noir to fix things. Slight problem with that - Marinette and Adrien can’t transform.

✍️ The Time Xavier Ramier Kidnapped a CatBoy and Got Away With It AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Mr. Ramier was enjoying a beautiful day in a secluded area (away from RogerCop) in the park with his pigeons when thump Chat Noir hit the ground next to him and was knocked out cold. What really surprised him was the hero detransforming right then and there. Write about what happens next!

✍️ KittyNoir AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Oh no! Hawkmoth’s akuma backfired and now every adult in Paris is a toddler! Write about how our heroes tackle their newfound responsibilities and deal with teeny tiny parents and super villains!

✍️ 9 Things to Convince Bunnyx to Never Have Children AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Summary: Somehow, some way, Bunnyx was left in charge of Growing Up Miraculous, the daycare for children of miraculous holders! Between the chaos of dealing with Carapace and Rena's inquisitive (read: gets into everything) child, Mino and Polymouse's new bundle of joy, and the half dozen children between Chat Noir, Ladybug, and Viperion, Bunnyx doesn't know how she'll survive the day. Write about how our daring heroine deals with the hardest job she's faced since having to teach Hawk Moth how to do maths.

Series - TalksToSelf BirthWeek 2023

✍️ 7 - Breeding Kink (Honorable Mention: Babies) AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: For the TalksToSelf BirthWeek Prompts! Happy Birthday, Nils! Day 7: Breeding/Babies Pairing: Adrinette

✍️ Tag Teamed on the Tower: *Double* Double Penetration AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: For the TalksToSelf BirthWeek Prompts! Happy Birthday, Nils! Day 6: Threesome Pairing: Lukadrinette Sequel to Tag Teamed on the Tower, but can be read as standalone. Part Two of Tag Teamed on the Tower: The Series

✍️ 5 – Vampires (Honorable Mention: Crayons) AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: For the TalksToSelf BirthWeek Prompts! Happy Birthday, Nils! Day 6: Crayons Day 5 : Vampires Pairing: Félinette

✍️ 4 – BDSM (Honorable Mention: Ukelele) AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: For the TalksToSelf BirthWeek Prompts! Happy Birthday, Nils! Day 4: BDSM/Ukelele Pairing: Félukadrinette (TW: Incest ship)

✍️ 3 – Fireball + Creamer ;) AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: For the TalksToSelf BirthWeek Prompts! Happy Birthday, Nils! Day 3: Fireball + Creamer ;) Pairings Ch1: Lukanette, implied/mentioned Lukadrien and Lukadrinette Ch2: Kagaminette, implied/mentioned Adrinette and Adrigaminette There are two versions, hence the two different sets 😉

✍️ 2 – Voyeur (Honorable Mention: Among Us) AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: For the TalksToSelf BirthWeek Prompts! Happy Birthday, Nils! Day 2: Voyeur/Among Us Pairing: Félukadrinette (TW: Incest ship) Standalone but can be read as same AU as Day 4

✍️ 1 – Sofa AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Explicit Summary: For the TalksToSelf BirthWeek Prompts! Happy Birthday, Nils! Day 1: Sofa Pairing: Lukadrien

Series - MGI Third Server-versary

✍️ Day 1 AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: MGI 3rd Server-versary Day 1 Prompts: Thunderstorm Foodfight Lovers to Enemies

✍️ Day 2 AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Superboy (Comics), Maribat - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: MGI 3rd Server-versary Day 2 Prompts: Language Barrier Read/Seen [x] days ago Wildflowers

✍️ Day 3 AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: MGI 3rd Server-versary Day 3 Prompts: Sharpie/Permanent Marker Halloween Four Seasons (Rated T for the one time Jason says Fuck)

✍️ Day 4 AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Super Sons, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: MGI 3rd Server-versary Day 4 Prompts: Silver Lining Pet Names "If the world comes crumbling down, I'm not going to stick around to pull you from the rubble." - downwithwritersblock (Rated T for the one time Jon says Fuck)

✍️ Day 5 AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: MGI 3rd Server-versary Day 5 Prompts: "There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full." - Henry Kissinger "What have you done" Follow (Rated T for the one time Marinette says Damn and for implied violence/drugging to make Tim sleep)

✍️ Day 6 AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: MGI 3rd Server-versary Day 6 Prompts: "I thought I knew you." "Go on. I dare you." Broken Mirror (Rated T for unintentional self harm)

✍️ Day 7 AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Super Sons, Maribat - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: MGI 3rd Server-versary Day 7 Prompts: Shiny Spelling Mistakes "Blanket thieves don't deserve rewards." - downwithwritersblock

✍️ Revenge of the Sleep Deprived Safety Hazards AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Superman - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: My gift exchange fic (and art!) for the Maribat? Get In! Discord 3rd Serverversary (Serversary?)! "They’re talking about Goldilocks, Peter Pan, one of the SpyKids, Hello Kitty, and Captain Underpants. One of them stole and/or destroyed the magic beans."

Series - MGI CIVIL WAR 2024 - DAMIAN DOMINANCE

✍️ We Can Meet in the Space Between AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: For the Maribat? Get In! Discord Civil War Event ~🦇🐞🦇~ "She slips through the veil formed in the in-between, allowing us to meet.” He pauses, voice thick with tears as he finally gets to speak of the woman he loves more than life itself. “…Our love was written in the stars. Her soul just got there before mine.”

✍️ Innocent AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: For the Maribat? Get In! Discord Civil War Event ~🦇🐞🦇~ “No, you- you must be mistaken. There’s no- No! Take me there. I- I can save her. I can save them! There’s got to be--!” Dick holds him back, keeping him from leaving. His heart shatters as his little brother breaks down in his arms. “No,” he whispers, voice broken as he sobs. TW: Major Character Death, implied suicidal thoughts (if you interpret the single line that way), Loss of Child Part Three of We Laughed. We Loved. We Lost.

✍️ A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, No Fandom Rating: General Audiences Summary: Any artwork/collages/mood boards/etc that I make for the Maribat? Get In! Discord Civil War Event

✍️ Over Before It Began AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Summary: For the Maribat? Get In! Discord Civil War Event ~🦇🐞🦇~ “Marinette! What, exactly, did you do?” “I…attacked a man for being happy with his partner, screamed at him for betraying me, and ran away. I think I hit him like three times, oh my god.” ~🦇🐞🦇~ Rated T for cursing and the singular use of the word 'erection', in the context of crudely saying one person is interested in another (ie. to have a hard-on for someone), but make it formal Part One of We Laughed. We Loved. We Lost.

✍️ A Work of Art AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Explicit Summary: For the Maribat? Get In! Discord Civil War Event ~🦇🐞🦇~ “Now, listen to me,” he growls. “You’re going to very carefully sit on the pedestal and spread your legs as wide as you can. And then, you’re going to keep your legs spread while I devour you. If you mess up my paint, I’m not going to be pleased. Do you understand me?” A wide-eyed nod. “Words.” “Yes, sir.” “Good girl.” ~🦇🐞🦇~ This is a oneshot. Second chapter will be the same thing, just with art. Actual fic length is ~9.4k words. Can be read as stand-alone. Or as a Sequel. Or as a Prequel. Or both. you can't see me, but I'm doing jazz hands Part Two of We Laughed. We Loved. We Lost.

Series - Bad Idea AU

✍️ A Pretty Good Bad Idea (See In-Progress Works) AO3

✍️ I (Don't) Need A Bad Idea AO3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Mature Summary: The alternate meeting scene from A Pretty Good Bad Idea, which got nixed for not being as good. It was the initial draft, though.

[echo-writes-letters]

Rules and Info

Rules:

Keep explicit sexual content out of the letters.

Echo is not available to date. I may consider other characters if something grows organically, no promises though. I generally prefer plot and friendships over romance.

Any mention of self harm other than things along the lines of skin picking must be kept vague and/or non-descriptive, and I would prefer to avoid mention of it at all. Same with suicide and rape.

You can borrow concepts, ideas, characters, etc from a fandom. However, you must cite the source you’re drawing from, and I would strongly prefer that overly controversial fandoms not be used.

Information:

This is a side blog.

I tag triggers as “#tw [trigger]” and “#[trigger] tw”.

I don’t plan on having everything be dark and gloomy. That said, I don’t shy from dark content at times. Content that is part of my backstories or my plotline includes detailed depictions of mental illness (anxiety, panic attacks, skin picking, potentially more), manipulative behavior, non-descriptive accounts of physical abuse, violence, blood, injuries, death, and emotional/physical torment.

Upon request, I’ll provide summaries of what happened in triggering or uncomfortable letters with the disturbing content trimmed so that you can still enjoy the stories.

I have a lot of characters planned. Some will have more prevalence in the plot than others.

For the moment, I am fairly active and will probably respond shortly to letters or DMs, unless I’m in the middle of something. You are not expected or required to match my activity level.

I will occasionally be using colored text in my letters, but will provide a plain text version under a cut or in reblogs when this happens. If someone I’m directly replying to (ask, reblog, etc) has something that needs to have an image ID or needs to be put into plain text, I’ll do that before opening into the letter itself. If there’s anything else I can do for additional accessibility, please feel free to let me know.

Having a plotline of your own is encouraged but not required.

Direct messages can be used to have a conversation directly with certain characters at certain times, and may even occasionally be used to write brief scenes in a more traditional RP format. Or they just can be used to speak one on one out of character.

[subtletruamadumping]

What is Gender?

______________________________________________________________

Fun Fact: This was written while bored behind the front desk of the ice rink I used to work at. I don't think it was technically finished, but I can't remember what else I wanted to add to it. So... I guess it's completed.

TW: Transphobia; Mentions of Violence, Religious Ideation, Medical Terms, and Dysphoria

Date Written: May 8, 2022

______________________________________________________________

My gender is black figure skates with purple laces,

But also hockey skates that are sharpened to a figure skating hollow.

I had a student ask me if I liked having “boy skates” more

After I changed from the expected white to the comforting black.

I replied saying that I liked the black skates more.

They weren’t boy skates.

Just black ones.

My gender is cutting my hair shorter and shorter

Each time I look at myself in the mirror,

But also shaving my legs every day

Whether there is actually any hair there or not

It’s like crying at the way blouses look on me

But loving the way i fell in a skirt

No one owes androidegy

Except for me.

My gender is a Texas fall.

Everyone is expecting the leaves to turn red and fall, even the trees.

There’s that brief moment of cool weather and all the leaves die,

Then it shoots back up to 95 degrees out of nowhere.

The trees themselves are confused.

As are the people who are new here.

My gender is one of those optical illusion drawings

The ones that are so confusing and nauseating from a distance

But, supposedly, you can see something there when you look closely

After you’ve strained your eyes and given

yourself a headache looking for the answer.

I’m pretty sure the people who say they see it

Are either lying or trying to mess with me.

My gender is loving the cottage core vibes,

But not really fitting in.

Or going to punk concerts

And not fitting in.

Or going to queer bars 

And not fitting in.

Or going to thrift stores

And not fitting in

Or going home

And not fitting in.

Or going to trans spaces

And not fitting in.

Or going to the doctor’s

And not fitting in.

Or hanging out with friends

And not fitting in.

Or being told there’s a place for me

And still not feeling like I fit in.

Or going to cafes with gender neutral bathrooms

And still not feeling like I fit in.

Or being asked my pronouns

And feeling like I stole them from someone more worthy.

My gender is being forced to constantly deadname,

Misgender, and hide myself just to make the people around me comfortable.

I have to make sure they’re comfortable around me.

Because if they’re not comfortable,

if I make them uncomfortable by being alive

They might just change that.

My gender is crying when looking at the F on my license,

But knowing that I can’t get it changed where I live.

And even if I lived in a place where I could

Just changing that letter to an X would

Immediately increase the possibility

Of me being

assaulted,

raped,

murdered,

kidnapped,

beaten,

stalked,

harassed…

The list goes on.

My gender is feeling sick and miserable

looking at myself in the mirror

But being so scared to make any big changes.

Who knows?

I might be illegal tomorrow.

My gender is the coworker that wears rainbows during Pride

Telling me that I need to make up my mind when I thought she was safe.

All I can think about is what people who don’t know say around me.

Maybe I am just faking for attention. Maybe I am just confused.

Thanks Mom.

You always said you knew me better than I knew myself.

My gender isn’t an option on most medical forms.

And even when it is, I don’t select it.

I’ve heard doctors admit to wanting to kill people like me.

I’ve heard priests using their homilies as a call to arms.

So many people want me dead

Without even realizing they want me dead.

My gender is mine.

No one else could ever really understand it.

A lot of people don’t even want to.

It’s different.

Scary.

An attack on the status quo.

I don’t necessarily want to hide.

But I also don’t want to die.

Is it worth sticking around to fight for myself

Against people who will never care?

I want to be loud and proud,

Showing the next generations it’ll be okay,

We will survive this.

But I don’t know if I will, if I stay here.

I’m tired but I don’t feel like I have the right to be.

I’m scared but feel like I need to get over it.

I don’t want to be here, but want to help the ones that have no choice.

I don’t want to force myself to fit in, but don’t want to be alone anymore.

My gender is reaching into a box of donuts with your eyes closed.

You might not know exactly what you’re going to get,

But the odds are it’ll be sweet, and nice, and if you don’t like it

It won’t be hard to find someone that will.

I’m not everyone's favorite 

But who cares?

My gender is a Texas beach with muddy, brown water

that’s infested with jellyfish and trash.

A mixed bag of the feeling of sand between your toes,

The splashing of waves, the breeze on your face.

And finding the strangest plastic objects tangled in seaweed.

I really wish it was different.

But it isn’t.

My gender is metal, but not screamo

Or that electro punk band that has like 4 followers on Spotify.

It’s the bitterness of lime frozen yogurt,

but the sweetness of so, so many chocolate chips mixed in.

It’s not just one or the other.

It’s also not just both at the same time.

It’s…

Just me.