#I wrote so much 😔

[ana283]

HELP ME I SHIP VOX X ALASTOR X LUCIFER (credits to @valc0 for pic) THE. ALASTOR X VOX (unaware who made the pic) AND LUCIFER X LILITH (unaware who made pic) AND RAIDOAPPLE (unaware who made pic) AND VOX X VAL (made by megan joyce. I don't think they have tumblr)

[melonalemonade]

the man, the myth, the legend ✨

[maxybabyy]

passions narrow but deep

inspired by this wonderful gif (also on ao3)

By the time she unwraps the measuring tape from his neck, Max is ready to bolt.

She brushes her thumb over his skin where she must have left an indent, over the muscle and just inches from his scent gland. Max barely holds back a flinch, clenches his teeth instead.

“There we go,” she says with a smile that drips with kindness, but Max doesn’t care, would rather be anywhere but here. “It’s better to be certain in these situations.”

Max doesn’t reply.

The woman is a beta, and he knows she’s supposed to be a neutral party in this, indifferent to the dynamic pull from either side. It’s clear too from the almost clinical way that she touches Max, hands ruthlessly direct in how she moves him, brushing over spots that would be intimate – invasive – from anyone else. But still, she has a scent, soaked in someone’s tart, uncomfortable stench that makes his nose itch.

Max pulls up the collar of his shirt, rubs his neck into the sides of it. He stole it from GP during their meeting earlier, and the familiar musk soothes his skin, his nose.

“Here it is, Max,” she says and hands over the strip of leather. The edges are rounded, and it looks like the collar Spyke had worn. Built more for durability than comfort, thick enough that no shirt would be able to cover it, the dark brown always visible on his throat.

“Do you need help to fasten it?”

“No,” he tells her.

He turns to leave, but there’s a touch to his shoulder, an apologetic smile on her face, and Max really fucking hopes it’s the last time he has to see her.

“I cannot let you leave without the collar on, the FIA mandate went into action today.”

He shrugs off her touch, fumbles with the clasp until the leather opens. It takes longer than it should, rough on his fingers, and maybe it isn’t meant to be taken off. Max wouldn’t put it past them.

It’s – fine, how it sits on his throat.

It doesn’t dig into his skin, but he feels it when he moves his head, the subtle strain makes it impossible not to. Max wonders how it will be in the car on tracks with sharp turns and bumpy kerbs, if they had someone test it under duress. If they considered how the collar could impact breathing, track awareness.

He doesn’t know who would have volunteered to test that.

“I think you wear it well,” she tells him kindly. Max wonders if he’s the first of them to come through, if she told the other three the same thing.

“I have written down your measurements if you want to –“

Max slams the door shut behind him.

There’s a box in his office when he comes back to the factory.

It’s neatly wrapped, and there’s a card to the side that Max doesn’t bother to read. He already knows what it is. There have been no recent anniversaries, no wins outside of the usual, no achievements to celebrate – nothing but the fucking FIA-mandated collar.

 The collar inside is nice.

The leather is a dyed blue and soft to touch. The colour matches one of his TAG Heuer watches, the buckle the same but without the engraving. Max knows it must have been tempting to keep it, to brand this with the partnership too.

The leather is dotted with gold, no bigger than the holes for the buckle. But as he looks closer, the dots expand and turn into tiny Red Bull logos that span the length of the collar.

Max doesn’t mind it, but he knows Daniel wouldn’t like it.

 Even now with a renewed loyalty to Red Bull, Daniel would wince at the sight, would tell him that it’s a bit on the nose. Tacky, he wouldn’t say – not now, not with the dreams he still has – but Max would know that’s what he meant.

He wraps it around his wrist, tries to remember the look of the watch he left at home.  

The blue looks nice against his skin, and the bend of the leather is better than what the FIA had given him. The buckle comes apart easier, and Max has it off in a second.

He doesn’t put it on again.

Max’s favourite thing after sex is the smell, how the sheets will be soaked in their shared scent.

He’s spread out on his stomach, head buried in the pillow as he feels the slow drip of come as it escapes him. If he turns his head to the side, tucks his nose into his shoulder, he will smell how Daniel’s sweet scent has leaked onto his skin – the sharp notes of fuel, the contrast of the honey that leaves Max dizzy.

Daniel’s hand is heavy on his back, rubbing over the knobs of his spine until there’s a tug on his throat.

“I thought you didn’t like the collar,” he says, voice soft. His hands are careful, hesitant as he slips two fingers underneath the leather.

The collar sits tight on his throat like this, but Max likes how it strains under Daniel’s touch. His breath hitches, and Max already feels come-dumb, but his heart beats wildly in his chest, and Max never wants it to end. Daniel’s eyes are huge when Max turns to look at him, and he thinks he likes that even more.

“I don’t,” Max tells him and chases Daniel’s hand with his lips.

His mouth closes around the meat of his thumb, sucks the skin between his teeth. He moves his mouth down to the bend of his wrist where Daniel’s scent is strong, licks over his pulse until his mouth is full of it, the tip of his tongue almost numb.

“So why don’t you take it off?”

Daniel rubs his other wrist on his throat, over the collar where the scent will cling to him, staying on until his next shower. Even then Max never washes too well after nights like these, likes the way Daniel stays with him.

“There is a FIA thing tomorrow with Red Bull,” Max says. “The buckle is of course so tricky. It is easier to just keep it on.”

His head falls to the side to give Daniel more access to his throat. The collar strains with the move, and Max moans loudly, fucking into the bed where he’s getting hard again. 

Daniel’s hand fiddles with the buckle, the end of the leather slipping out of the tiny metal thing. He pushes the collar down a bit and frowns at the marks it has left. Max usually turns the buckle to the back of his neck. It’s easier like that, irritates his skin less.

“I could take it off,” Daniel offers. His smile is soft as his thumb strokes over the swell of his throat, pressing into his windpipe. “Put it back on tomorrow if you want.”

His head is dizzy, and his body buzzes with heat. His dick chafes against the bed, but even that isn’t enough because he feels so fucking empty as slick slips down his thighs, soaking into the bed. His mouth barely fits around Daniel’s wrist, but it feels right as he bites down, sinks his teeth into his skin.

“Please,” he begs, slurring his words.

Daniel moves quick, strips the collar from his throat and lets his hand take its place, squeezing tightly until Max is loose against the bed. He shakes his wrist free from Max’s teeth and shoves the leather into his mouth instead, “Bite down.”

And Max does.

Max is on the sim when his heat hits.

It’s a rare sunny day in Milton Keynes, so Max shows up in shorts and lets himself be strapped in. The room is stuffy, but it always is, leaving him hot and bothered. Max doesn’t notice until GP touches him on the shoulder to say, “I think you’re going into heat, mate.”

Max squeezes his thighs together and finds a patch of wet between them, bullets of sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

“Oh.”

Since the FIA deregulated suppressants, Max has been working towards a natural heat cycle to let his body rebalance. But that has meant overproduction of slick, scent-sickness and worst of all, flash heats. His summer heat is scheduled for the break when both he and Daniel will be free, not when Daniel is stuck in Italy.

But it’s only a day, and Max makes do. Or at least he does, until Daniel calls him.

Something about hearing Daniel’s voice when he’s half-lucid and sick with heat makes him go wild. Everything that reminds him of Daniel has been left behind, leaving him with half his hand inside him, sloppy with heat and slick as he works himself up to his fist.

“Baby,” Daniel begs him softly. “Be good to yourself, please. For me?”

Max tries, he really does.

But nothing feels good like this.

His body is too big, his skin too tight, his hole is too loose and his hand isn’t big enough. He’s come five times, but his dick hasn’t become soft since he left the factory. His skin itches and when Daniel tells him to touch himself, to make him feel good, Max doesn’t even think as he rips the collar from his throat to wrap a hand around it.

Daniel finds him just after his heat has ended, hand still inside himself and the collar ripped apart by his feet. He’s dehydrated and tired, but he doesn’t want to sleep, and when Daniel tries to make him eat, Max begs him to fuck him.

“Please, Daniel. I haven’t, I can’t –“

There’s still come on his stomach, but it doesn’t count, it didn’t feel good – didn’t make him feel good. Not like Daniel does.

“Okay, Maxy,” Daniel says and fucks him soft, fucks him good until Max’s body feels like his own again.

It’s the same woman who has to make him his new collar.

The same bright smile as she whips out her measuring tape and motions for him to bend down so she can reach, “Better be safe and get the measurements right.”

His jaw feels tight, his feet rooted to the spot, and Max thinks for the first time, that maybe the Red Bull collar would have been just fine.

Carlos is deep in his answer about Monza when Max bends his head towards Daniel, “You are being weird.”

Daniel presses his knee against Max’s with a hum. His eyes are soft when he looks at him, but there’s a furrow between his brows. A note of something sour in his scent, and Max doesn’t like it.

Daniel shrugs, “That’s just me, baby. Race weekend, we’re all a bit weird.”

Max doesn’t let up, stares at him even as he’s asked about the upgrades, about his sim times and the track, how it will fit the car. But Daniel doesn’t budge.

When they let them go, Max shoves him into a side room and locks the door behind them. Daniel pushes him back and pins him against the wall, digging his thumbs into his shoulder.

“Fine, okay. You smell off, like – I don’t know? Are you close to a heat?” Daniel asks. But the frown is still there. He cradles Max’s arm in his hand and pulls his wrist to his nose, breathing in until his senses must be satiated with Max. His face turns soft, but the confusion doesn’t stray. “That’s not – your scent is fine. Could you be getting sick, maybe?”

Max rolls his eyes. He rubs his thumb over the leather of the collar and shoves it under his nose, watches as Daniel’s face transforms with it.  

“Fuck, Max,” Daniel says and shoves his hand away. “That’s fucking nasty.”

“That’s Alex.”

“What?”

“The scent. You didn’t put my collar back on before you left,” Max tells him, eyes sharp because it’s not his fucking fault he’s smelling bad. Daniel of course should have remembered it too. “Always it is back at the hotel, so I had to wear George’s spare.”

Daniel leans in to bury his face in his throat and when he stands back up, his face is smoother than before, more confused than repulsed, “Oh.” He rubs his wrist over the collar, and Max already knows George will be furious, upright and prissy about it.

“You couldn’t have asked Yuki instead?”

“Fuck off,” Max tells him and pulls him in for a kiss.

The next time his collar breaks, it isn’t his fault.

It’s a hard-fought win and Max throws himself into his team, soaks in their praise, in their love. Max has always liked how they touch him after, rough touches and tight squeezes, on his back and his waist, his ass – everywhere they can reach.

Someone touches his neck, and Max doesn’t mind it, knows it’s from the rush of the moment.

Maybe it’s one of the newer guys because suddenly the touch turns frantic. They pull back too fast, too hard, and Max feels the snap against his throat as the leather gives away under their hands.

On the podium, he wears the Red Bull branded collar, neck red from where it had been pulled off him.  

“Back again?” The woman says.

She doesn’t smile at him now, and the measuring tape doesn’t come out. She looks up his measurements on the computer, calls them out to check with him like Max somehow knows them by heart.

“I will put in the order right away, but it will be a few days,” she tells him, and Max knows then that she hates this too.

When the new collar comes in, it’s different.

The FIA must have changed their leather smith because the new one makes him break out in a rash, his skin red and sensitive. The team doctor prescribes him a round of steroids but even that does little to dampen the reaction.

So Max is back to wearing the Red Bull collar but that digs into his skin, sits awkwardly under the helmet, and GP has to tell him twice to stop fuzzing before he can focus on the race.

He’s spread out in Daniel’s bed, dragging his feet to get ready because that means putting the collar back on, when Daniel wraps his hand around his throat, covering up the marks.

“You know I don’t like this shit,” he says with a frown. His thumb soft on his skin even as his nail digs into sensitive marks. “Like, the collaring is a whole fucking mess. But they should at least make them comfortable for you.”

Somewhere in the box of scratched ‘grill the grid’ videos, some fucking marketing exec had the idea to make the alphas design their own collars as if the mandate had been rolled out for the entire grid, “And then we will make them for you to review later on!”

Mercedes’ invitation for that one had somehow gotten lost.

“This is of course what they have,” Max says with a soft breath. He leans into the touch, and Daniel’s grasp tightens, thumb digging into his pulse point. “I could order one also, but who has the time for this?”

Daniel’s hold becomes loose, and Max whines. Daniel shushes him as he pulls his hand away, kissing him as he goes, “Just a moment, baby.”

Max turns to his side to glare at Daniel, at the clock that is ticking down. Rupert will be here soon if he doesn’t get out of bed.

But Daniel is quick to come back, a familiar square box held between precarious hands, and a heat builds low in Max’s stomach.

“It’s cool if you don’t like it, but. I had this made a while ago, like after the shit with Alex?” Daniel says and hands over the box. He keeps his hands on Max’s and helps him unwrap it, the weight of his gaze heavy on Max’s face. “In case you lost it again, so you wouldn’t have to wear his. But I think this would also –“

Max kicks him gently to stop his rambling, rips the delicate paper off the box.

The leather is black and buttery soft when he pulls it out, an odd contrast to the velvet of the box. The buckle comes apart easily and there’s padding on the back of it, so it won’t dig into his skin. It’s thinner than the one from the FIA, barely a thumb’s width, but already it looks so lovely.

“You like it?” Daniel asks when Max still hasn’t said anything. He takes the collar and flips it over, turns it so the front is facing him instead, showing off the engraving of a golden lion staring back at him. “I had them put this in too. So it would fit with your helmet.”

“Daniel,” Max whispers.

He traces the logo with his finger, the familiar lines. There’s something else on the inside, on the side that will press against his skin, and Max sucks in a breath looking at the ‘3’ printed there.

“I love it. Will you put it on?”

Daniel’s face turns soft, his smile loose and happy. “Always, Maxy.”

Daniel follows him down onto the bed, body spread wide to cover all of Max.

“So fucking beautiful, Maxy,” he whispers and runs a hand over bare skin.

Max shivers underneath him, feels the way the slick pours out of him. Even like this, moments away from being fucked, Max feels desperate. But he always feels like this when Daniel is near, always wants him inside him, on him – close, in any way that he can be.

Daniel's hand wraps around his throat and squeezes, knuckles bumping against the edge of his collar, and Max moans. Daniel shushes him and presses sloppy kisses to his lips, “Soon, baby. I promise.”

Daniel’s fingers leave his skin for a moment to Max’s despair and then they’re back, making quick work of the buckle attached to the leather, pulling the strap free to –

“No! Please, don’t,” Max whines and fumbles to wrap his hands around his throat where the collar has come undone. “What are you doing.”

“I – Max?”

Max twists in his arms, turns on his side to look at Daniel who looks just as confused as Max is feeling. His heart beats in his chest, and Max doesn’t understand why he would take it back now.

“You said – it is my collar, Daniel. You gave it to me.”

“I did, yeah. Of course, I did, baby,” Daniel says, promises. His hands move slowly as they refasten the buckle, pressing the leather into his skin until Max lets his fingers drop. “I just, normally you want it off during sex, so I thought – “  

“But it’s your collar,” Max says. “I like it because it’s yours, Daniel.”

Daniel cups his face with trembling hands, kisses him sweetly. “Okay, Maxy. We’ll leave it on.”  

Max burns hot with heat, with need and desire.

He’s two orgasms in, and he knows it will happen soon. Daniel won’t tell him – Max asked him not to – but he can feel it coming, the anticipation heavy in the air. And then –

Daniel fucks him into him, a stutter in his thrusts and suddenly, there are teeth in his throat sinking into skin, Max mad with pleasure. The bond snaps into place, and Max can feel how his mind makes room for Daniel, how it relents and pushes until everything fits, already so in tune with each other.

Max is flayed open and bare, exposed. But in the best way possible.

“Did you – is it,” he pants, unsure if he will ever stop feeling like this, all consumed by Daniel. “Did you remember?”

Daniel removes his teeth from his neck, licks at the skin with slow, deep licks until leans up to kiss Max. Max hates the taste of blood, but like this, he loves it. The reminder of why it’s there, what it means.

“Of course, Maxy. Your collar will be here,” he says softly and wraps his hand around his throat, squeezing until Max’s sight goes blurry. He leans in to kiss the skin above his hand, where he bit him, “And your mark will be here, visible to everyone.”

“Good,” Max slurs and lets his head be moved into the crook of Daniel’s neck, biting down when Daniel tells him to.

Max barely comes to races anymore, prefers to watch them from home where no one disturbs him. But Daniel had wanted him there, so Max had come.

It’s only been a year since his retirement, but Max has already forgotten the absolute nightmare the paddock is on race day, chewing up and spitting out everyone they can put a name to, and who’s better than a former world champion?

He’s five minutes deep into an interview with some pundit he doesn’t remember the name of when they ask him about the roll-back of the FIA-mandated collars.

Max has already shared his opinion on it, both after he left the sport, and then again when the roll-back was announced. The shitty apology they had directed at him, George, Yuki, and Oscar for that first year where nothing had worked as it should, and then the five other omegas who had suffered under it.

George who had been fuming at the roll-back, at the lack of retroactive action.

“It was of course bullshit,” Max tells them now. His hand rests lightly on the swell of his stomach where the baby has started to kick, and he has maybe two minutes left before he has to pee again. “I don’t know why they made us wear them in the first place.”

“But haven’t we seen you wear your collar since your retirement, Max?” The pundit asks, and maybe it’s supposed to be a joke, but Max doesn’t know them, and it doesn’t feel like it is. Or maybe he’s just seven months pregnant and overly hormonal, who the fuck knows? “So was it really that bad?”

Max stares him down, rooted to the ground until they shift in their spot, and then he says, “I like Daniel’s hand around my neck too, do you want to ask me about that also?”

The other host cuts in, ushering him out fast and unsubtle, “And thank you, Max Verstappen! Let’s head back to the studio.”

[skyward-floored]

When I was 10 my sister and I wanted a puppy so bad, but when my dad saw how much puppies at the pet store were he told us we were getting a brother soon, which would be about the same. Now I’m picturing a very tired IAU Time telling little Twilight that when he tries to beg his dad for a dog. Legend at least ends up being fluffy!

HA yeah, he would totally do that. Or... honestly I could see Warriors doing it too. Either of them. Both of them XD Twilight is pretty little when Legend comes along so I don’t know if he would do it for him specifically, but I’m sure it gets said at some point. It’d be like—

...

“Dad pleeeeeease?” Twilight begged, hanging on Time’s leg. “Please please please please?”

Time looked at the puppy in the pet store window again, it’s tail wagging as it watched them walk by, and he sighed.

“No, Twilight, you know why we can’t have a dog,” he reminded in a tired voice. This was the third store they’d walked by with an animal in the window, and Twilight had clung to his leg and made begging eyes each time they walked by.

“But he’s so cute,” Twilight whined, and the puppy stuck it’s tongue out, paws scrabbling at the glass.

“I’m sorry pup, but you know we can’t,” he said, and Twilight drooped, giving the puppy in the window a longing look. “Besides, you’re going to be getting a new brother soon. That’s practically the same thing.”

“No it’s not!” Twilight said indignantly. “You can’t even pet a brother!”

“You can pet Legend,” Time pointed out, and Twilight screwed his face up like he was thinking that through.

“It’s not the same. He’s a bunny, not a puppy.”

“But they’re both fuzzy,” Time continued, gently tugging Twilight away from the pet store. “And both have tails, and ears. And run around too much when they’re energetic.”

“Puppies aren’t pink,” Twilight pointed out, holding Time’s hand as he walked along a short stone wall. “But... I guess they’re closeish. Legend sure bites like a puppy anyway.”

Time hid a laugh behind a cough. “...That is true. He doesn’t quite know better yet, huh.”

Twilight perked up as he hopped off the end of the wall. “Kinda like a puppy! You’re right Daddy, he is like one. Do you think the baby will be too? Maybe he’ll be able to be an animal also!”

“...we’ll just have to wait and see, pup.”

[mercillery]

ADMIRALS AS TEACHERS

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD + MODERN AU???

CHARACTERS: Akainu + Kizaru + Aokiji

NOTES: This was has been sitting in my drafts for a while... Also, to whoever sent in requests yes I am working on them just give me time please <3

AKAINU

Honestly, Akainu would likely teach a subject that requires an unwavering commitment to discipline, structure, and a strong sense of justice. Subjects such as ethics, law, or history seem to be right up his alley. Specifically, I envision him as an Advanced Placement (AP) History teacher. His approach to teaching would be strict and authoritarian, instilling both respect and a sense of fear among his students. 99% of the students in his class are driven by fear of him rather than actual motivation to learn. That being said, the atmosphere in his classroom would be one of constant pressure and high expectations, which almost every student finds overwhelming and intimidating. 

Akainu would demand nothing short of absolute perfection. He would have zero tolerance for disobedience or laziness, expecting his students to show the same dedication and rigor that he himself embodies. Any form of attitude or defiance would be met with immediate consequences—Akainu would not hesitate to expel a disruptive student from his classroom without a second thought. Is spending time outside the classroom better than being stuck in his class? Probably. But your chances of failing his class have probably just increased by a lot, and he will absolutely catch on if you’re just being disobedient to skip his class. So don’t abuse this.

His primary focus would be on the material being taught rather than on his students' personal feelings or stress levels. To him, the importance of the subject matter would always trump any student's grievances or frustrations. He would expect his students to maintain a laser-sharp focus, regardless of how they feel about school on any given day—meaning that you’ve got to bring your A game to his class every day. It’s that or nothing. Even if you’re grieving or stressed like crazy, he expects you to give it your all, no matter what. Sorry! 

Akainu motivates his students through a combination of fear and respect rather than through encouragement or praise. He firmly believes that the fear of failure and its consequences is a powerful motivator, driving students to excel in their studies and adhere to his exacting standards. For students who are particularly afraid of failing or falling short of his expectations, Akainu's methods can be both terrifying and effective. The fear of disappointing him or not meeting his high standards often has students working themselves to the brink, sweating blood, and shedding tears to avoid his wrath. Despite the intense pressure, those who manage to channel their fear into diligence and hard work will find that they can succeed in his class! And yes, he does notice when his students are actually trying and putting in effort; he just isn’t the type to announce it to the whole school building out loud.

His classroom is orderly, with students seated in neat, precise rows. He enforces assigned seating, meticulously choosing who sits where. And this isn’t a random arrangement; Akainu deliberately separates friends, ensuring they sit far apart, while placing those who aren't close right next to each other. This strategic seating plan is just another layer of his strict control over the classroom environment, much to the students' frustration. Moreover, the walls of his class are adorned with military posters and detailed maps of various historical battles. This carefully curated setting, combined with his demanding teaching style, ensures that students understand the weight of their education under his watchful eyes… 👁️ 👁️

To conclude, Akainu’s teaching methods are definitely controversial, as most view his strictness as too harsh or oppressive. However, he believes that it is necessary to prepare his students for the harsh realities of the world they will eventually enter. He has good intentions, believe me. He’s just too strict and intense.

AOKIJI

After mulling it over for a while, I still can't pinpoint the exact subject he would teach. Environmental science, literature, or geography all come to mind, but I can't decide :( Regardless of the subject, though, one thing is certain: he’s a student favorite for a multitude of reasons. Despite his frequent tardiness—honestly, he’s late to his own class more often than not. Students and faculty alike wonder how he manages to keep his teaching position. But the truth is, no one really cares because Aokiji is simply adored by everyone—specifically the students. His laid-back attitude and approachable demeanor make him the most beloved and popular teacher in the entire school. It's almost as if his popularity grants him immunity from the usual rules and expectations. He’s the kind of teacher who leaves a lasting impression—the one students talk about long after they've graduated.

As I mentioned just now, Aokiji has a habit of arriving late to his own class, but his students don’t mind because that just means they get more time to chill. His tardiness has become a running joke among the students too. In fact, it’s almost a tradition at this point. Despite his late arrivals, Aokiji makes up for it by staying late to help students who need extra assistance. If you're wondering about his usual delay, it's typically just a few minutes. However, on Mondays, Thursdays, or any of those universally dreaded days, he can be 20–30 minutes late at best.

Unlike Akainu, Aokiji very much cares about his students' well-being, even if it’s not immediately apparent. Despite his tired and nonchalant appearance during class, he absolutely cares—trust me on this. If you’re struggling to focus on school because of other issues weighing on your mind, you can turn to Aokiji. He’s always ready to listen, and he’ll never dismiss your concerns. Whether you need to talk things through or just need some space, he’s there to support you. He might suggest signing you up for a guidance counselor or offering some time alone to collect your thoughts. Whatever you need to feel more comfortable and less stressed, Aokiji will do his best to accommodate. His students know they can rely on him, not just as a teacher but as a genuine source of support and understanding.

His class is... messy? Chaotic? Unorganized? Probably all three. Desks are scattered haphazardly around the room, with some areas having far more desks than others. Aokiji doesn’t care where his students sit as long as they aren’t too disruptive. He’s the kind of teacher who gives his students the freedom to arrange themselves. Some students take advantage of this by placing their desks close to his, eager to chat and interact with him since they absolutely enjoy talking with him. If Akainu ever walked into Aokiji’s class, he’d probably have a stroke. The disarray and lack of strict order would be too much for him to handle. But for Aokiji and his students, this chaotic setup works perfectly.

Aokiji is also known for his patience with his students. When one or a group of students become too disruptive, he lets it slide a few times, but with each incident, he becomes a bit more firm—not mean, just firm. He understands that students need a bit of leeway, and his relaxed approach reflects that. Despite his leniency, he rarely has to make students change their seats for being disruptive. His students usually get the message after a few warnings and straighten up, likely because they genuinely like and respect him as a teacher. However, if a student is being outright disrespectful or causing problems for him or another student, that's when Aokiji's demeanor changes. He becomes noticeably firm and directly addresses the issue. He’ll tell the student that they need to either chill out or take a walk around the school for a few minutes to cool off. When something like this happens, the entire class becomes captivated. It's almost as if every student suddenly has a bowl of popcorn, eagerly watching the situation unfold. They relish not only the chaos of the situation but also the rare moment of seeing Aokiji get serious, given his usual laid-back attitude.

In conclusion, Aokiji is one of the coolest teachers in the building. That’s about it. Everyone loves him and wishes to have him as their teacher for every class.

KIZARU

I'm definitely getting physics teacher vibes here... Yeah, Kizaru would be the perfect fit for teaching physics. Physics can be really complicated and confusing, but with his laid-back attitude, you'll feel much more at ease. His relaxed approach helps take the edge off, so you won’t find yourself too stressed out or panicking when grappling with the subject matter. And there’s an added bonus: Kizaru speaks incredibly slowly (like in the anime lol), which gives you plenty of time to process everything he’s saying. This means you can really take in the information and understand it better, rather than feeling overwhelmed by a barrage of fast-paced explanations. So, even if physics isn’t your strong suit, Kizaru’s teaching style makes it a lot more approachable for you.

Now, unlike other teachers, Kizaru actually goes out of his way to make his class entertaining and engaging. He understands that while some students can push through the boredom and focus solely on the material, others struggle with staying attentive. He completely gets it—he’d be bored too if his own class was dull. With this in mind, Kizaru uses everyday objects and interactive demonstrations to bring physics concepts to life. Whether he's using a simple toy car to explain inertia or demonstrating wave interference with water in a tub, he makes sure that the principles of physics are not only accessible but also enjoyable to learn. Additionally, Kizaru infuses his lessons with humor and a touch of sarcasm, making jokes that keep the class lively. His witty remarks and playful banter can quickly recapture the attention of his students if their minds start to wander. And just like that, in no time, he wins over his students, making physics a subject they look forward to rather than dread.

Kizaru is incredibly patient with his students. He never rushes them and always takes the time to ensure that everyone understands the material before moving on. If a student is struggling, he's always ready to offer one-on-one help. His supportive approach fosters a casual atmosphere where students feel comfortable asking questions and participating in discussions! For those who are too nervous to ask questions in front of the class, Kizaru has a special approach. He makes it a point to quietly check in with these students individually, asking if they have any questions or need further clarification. He understands that some students are just too shy or prefer not to speak up in a group setting, so he keeps a close eye on those who tend to be more reserved. This attentiveness ensures that everyone, even the quietest students, has their needs met. Kizaru’s ability to create a welcoming and supportive environment means that no one gets left behind!

Inside Kizaru's classroom, it's a hub of physics experiments and fascinating gadgets. From gyroscopes spinning on desks to pendulums swinging gracefully and intricate Rube Goldberg machines humming with activity, the room is alive with hands-on learning opportunities. The seating arrangement in Kizaru's class is designed to promote collaboration and lively discussions. Desks are often grouped in clusters, encouraging students to work together on projects and problem-solving exercises. What's more, Kizaru allows his students the freedom to choose their seating partners! However, he maintains a balance by gently addressing any disruptions that may arise. While students are generally free to sit where they please, he sets clear expectations for behavior. If there's occasional distraction, Kizaru might let it slide a couple of times, but he ensures that the focus remains on productive learning.

I feel like outside of just normal class, Kizaru leads or supports a physics club, where students can delve deeper into their interests, participate in science fairs, and engage in fun physics-related activities like building rockets or participating in robotics competitions.

Kizaru takes an understanding stance if he notices a student having difficulties because of personal problems like stress or other issues. He acknowledges the need for space and time to attend to personal problems and acknowledges that everyone encounters challenges occasionally. As a lenient and understanding teacher, Kizaru absolutely prioritizes the well-being of his students. If someone requires additional time to cope with personal challenges or simply needs a break to recharge, he's supportive and accommodating. Whether it's offering extensions on assignments, providing extra guidance, or simply lending a listening ear.

In summary, Kizaru's physics class is a dynamic blend of humor, creativity, and hands-on learning, transforming physics into an exciting and accessible subject for all his student!

[brutal-nemesis]

ok siiince you asked for requests for demon boy castys… the tongue cut out + gag seemed like such an adorable situation for him <33

Giving you that and a little extra because I wanted More Whump 💕

←Previous - Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: manhandling, a lot of unsexy noncon touching, slight dehumanization, partial nudity

Castys wasn’t sure if he slept at all that night, but after what felt like an eternity, Neteri reappeared wearing different clothes under her white coat.

“Good morning, Castys!” She sat on one of the stools from last night and motioned for him to do the same. “Get up, I’ve got wonderful news to share!” 

Castys opened his mouth to retort, but he found he couldn’t form the words. His tongue was still…he looked away, swallowing, and sat up while remaining on the floor. 

“You’re going to have to start listening to me, you know. Because,” she broke out into an excited smile, “I get to keep you!” Upon seeing Castys’s glare, she just laughed. “I figured you wouldn’t be excited, but trust me,” she held up a finger, “you’ll be much better off in my hands than if you were sold as a pet to some bored aristocrat. I’m sure they’d beat that personality right out of you, and I don’t plan on doing anything of the sort. As long as you cooperate with my experiments, you’re free to be yourself. You can even hate me as much as you like!” Castys raised an eyebrow at her final statement. He’d see about that.

After rummaging in her bag for a moment, she pulled out a little silver medal and moved to crouch next to him on the ground. “Hold still now,” she ordered as she started to bring it towards his neck. Castys wasn’t sure what was happening at first, but after a moment, it clicked, and he decided he’d rather not listen, leaning back. Neteri just sighed. “You’re not off to a very good start.” Well, it’s not like he wanted to be.

Suddenly, Neteri changed tactics, shoving him down on his back and straddling his waist before he could try to sit up, pinning his arms down with a knee on each elbow. Castys cried out, the wounds on his back from the whip lighting up in pain, and that combined with her full weight on him kept him from moving. He bared his teeth as her hand came closer, daring her to get within range, but she just curled her other hand in his hair, yanking it back and keeping his head firmly in place. Great. He was once again powerless against this tiny lady, forced to keep still as she attached that dumb little tag to the collar and sealed the metal shut with the same spell that kept him from taking it off.

“There,” she said once it was on. She tapped the tag, cold against his throat. “Property of Neteri Crozien. Whether you like it or not. Now,” she grabbed his chin, “are you going to let me put some new restraints on you or should I call the guards to manhandle you? Your resistance is pointless and only delaying the inevitable, exactly like every other time. Just nod if you’re going to cooperate.”

Did he want to get manhandled again? Not particularly. He’d had more than enough of being grabbed and held still while chains were taken off and put on. And it’s not like he was resisting out of pride or something stupid, he just fought back when it was something he really didn’t want to happen. Which was most things in the past couple days, but, hey, if new restraints meant he got to leave this boring-ass cell, he was okay with it. Her grip on his hair had loosened enough to allow him a small nod, so he gave one, praying she’d get the fuck off of him now.

Neteri smiled brightly at his cooperation. “Great! Although,” she got off of him and stood, thinking, “maybe just stay laying down. I don’t really trust you not to try and run at the moment, so just roll on your stomach and I’ll take the chains off.” Castys sighed in annoyance but complied, gritting his teeth as his weight went from his injured back to his burned chest. The cold stone floor felt a little good on it, at least, but it was a small consolation as he watched Neteri walk back over with a key and a coil of rope. 

She squatted down and-fuck, that was a knee on his back, not her full weight but enough to make him gasp in pain. Paying him no mind, Neteri unlocked the manacles around his wrists, and he could barely enjoy the feeling of not having anything around them for a moment, just wishing she’d tie him up and get the fuck off of his back. It didn’t feel like she was going particularly slow as she pulled his arms behind him and wound the rope around his wrists, but the seconds still dragged by at an agonizing pace. 

Finally, she finished tying the knot and took her knee off of his back as she stood. “There we go!” Castys just groaned, rolling on his side. “Oh, stop being so dramatic. It’s not like I was hurting you.” Castys’s glare deepened, and he awkwardly used his bound hands to pull up the back his shirt enough to expose the bandages wrapped around his torso. Neteri’s jaw dropped slightly, and she just stared at him for a second before worry took over her features.

“I…I’m so sorry I…I completely forgot. That you were hurt. I wouldn’t have done that if I remembered.” Her head hung slightly. “I’m really sorry, Castys.” Her apology seemed genuine, but how the fuck did she forget he got whipped and branded yesterday? She looked back at him again. “Let’s just hurry and get you to your new home so I can heal you up, okay?” Wait, new home? She was taking him somewhere else? At first the idea was scary, but then Castys remembered that he’d never particularly loved living in the castle, so whatever. It was probably just going to be a different prison cell, anyway.

With ridiculous difficulty and a lot of groaning in pain, he managed to sit up, using his elbows to help him do it since his hands were kind of useless. By the time that was done, Neteri was standing above him with…a chain? He was already tied up what the fu-no. No fucking way. He growled as her hands moved towards his neck, baring his teeth once more.

“Seriously, Castys? You said you weren’t a dog yesterday, but you sure are acting like one.” Yeah, sure, whatever, but since he couldn’t fucking talk, he was forced to resort to other means of protest. He honestly wasn’t entirely sure where the growling came from himself, and, yeah, it was a little animalistic, but that didn’t mean he deserved to get put on a leash. “This is happening either way, so just give it up already.” Her hand was moving closer, closer, the clasp at the end of the chain open, ready to-

Once again, instinct took over, and before he knew it, his teeth were buried in the flesh of her hand.

Neteri cried out, jerking her hand back and dropping the leash. “Lyte! Seriously?!” She winced as she dabbed the wounds with what smelled like the stingy liquid from yesterday and used her magic to close them up, during which Castys couldn’t help but smile smugly. Once she was done healing, she pulled on her leather gloves and grabbed a couple rolls of bandages from her bag. “I figured you were going to be difficult to keep in line, but this is just ridiculous.” Castys took pride in being ridiculous, so he’d take the compliment. What he didn’t want to take were the consequences of his actions, but he was a little bit helpless at the moment, so there wasn’t much he could do as Neteri shoved a wad of bandages in his mouth and tied a strip around his head to keep him from spitting it out.

“There. You’re just about the only person who’d need to be gagged when they can’t talk.” Castys just looked away, feeling his face grow hot as she clipped the leash to the collar. She gave it a tug, but he didn’t budge. Now he was just resisting out of spite. Neteri’s expression grew even more frustrated, and it looked like she was about to say something before she stopped herself and took a deep breath, calming herself down. She crouched down to look Castys in the eye.

“Look, I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I hurt you when I didn’t mean to, so I’m not going to punish you for biting me. We’ll just call it even.” She paused and held up a finger. “The gag stays until we reach our destination, though. Just for safety’s sake. But I’ll tell you something about my plans for you. If you come with me, you’ll have a tongue again by the end of tomorrow. Does that sound good?” 

Castys could be stupid and stubborn and petty and shake his head and sit here and then end up getting dragged off to wherever, or he could just suck it the fuck up and get the ability to complain back. Complaining would be nice...After weighing his options he nodded, and Neteri broke into a smile. “Good. Let’s go, then.” She helped him stand, and she seemed to do her best not to pull on the leash as they walked along. Soon enough, they had reached the teleportation stone, and Castys…he couldn’t help but be a little excited to leave this stupid place. He knew he was a fucking prisoner now, but he was basically a prisoner in his old life, too, minus the chains and plus a comfy bed. 

At least he was going somewhere else.

The other palace was pretty cool, at least, the short glimpses he got before he was pulled into the lower levels, down halls and through doors until they arrived at his lame little prison cell. It did have a bed, though, so that was an upgrade. And a private bathroom?! Why did the prison cells in his family’s dungeon have to suck so much ass? He only spent two nights there, but still. If he was ever in charge of a dungeon, he would make sure it was at least a little comfy in case he got thrown in there.

Neteri clamped a manacle around his ankle, which was whatever, because that meant she untied his wrists and took that stupid leash off. And then, true to her word, she healed his wounds. The brand scarred, of course, which was…the symbol was kind of cool, but since it meant he was “property” or whatever he wasn’t too excited about it being on his chest for the rest of his life. At least shirts existed.

After that was done, Neteri instructed him to clean himself off and left him alone for a bit. He wandered into the bathroom, chain clinking with every step, and paused in front of the mirror. He looked pretty much the same as always, just a little more tired and blood-covered than usual. Oh, and the stupid collar around his neck. Neteri was fucking delusional, it didn’t look the slightest bit “cute” on him, it just looked…He didn’t want to see it anymore.

Once he was clean and dressed in some slightly comfier clothes, Castys tried out his new bed. It was nowhere near as nice as his old one, but it was way better than the floor, so he’d take it. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, Neteri poked him in the face.

“I’m back, Castys, get up and take your shirt off.” Castys sat up, but didn’t take his shirt off, instead just crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. His wounds were healed, so what the hell did she need it off for? “Come on, I’m just going to examine you and take some measurements. Nothing painful, I promise.” Not painful, sure, but probably still not pleasant. Even so, he didn’t really have much choice but to listen, so he pulled off his shirt and stood, hoping this wouldn’t involve too much touching.

His hopes were in vain.

It started off fine, her measuring his height and a few other things with a strip of leather, but then she started running her hands all over him, poking at him, moving him this way and that. He couldn’t help but flinch every time since he hated being touched, and Neteri was clearly getting annoyed by it. His full-body recoil after she ran a hand down his spine was the final straw. Wordlessly, she clamped a manacle around one of his wrists before shoving him down onto the bed. He tried to stand back up, but she basically fucking tackled him, pinning him down on his back for the second time today. And, to top it all off, she managed to loop the chain around the top of the cot before cuffing his other wrist, leaving him pretty much helpless.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just kept still,” Neteri sighed, seeing his frustration. Well, it was a little fucking hard to be still when someone who’s basically a stranger is running their hands all over your bare skin. He considered trying to kick her, but she’d probably just chain him up more and keep going, and he’d rather this bullshit just be over with already.

Being chained down on his back somehow made this infinitely worse. There was nowhere to run, nothing he could do, Neteri looming over him as she put her hands all over him, touching his chest, his brand, squeezing his arms, grabbing his chin, pulling at his eyelids, gloves on now, hands in his mouth, poking at the stump of his tongue, feeling his teeth, gripping his hair to turn his head from side to side, his skin was crawling, crawling, his muscles tense, breaths coming short, fast, he just wanted her to get off stop touching him examining him taking notes reducing him down to just numbers just a body not a person not someone who got boundaries or personal space no just someone who gets touched and touched and touched-

“Castys! Hey, hey, just breathe.” Neteri was standing over him now, fiddling with the cuffs on his wrists, releasing him. Castys hadn’t even realized he was hyperventilating, but he tried his best to calm down as he scrambled to the other end of the bed, as far away from her as he could get. Neteri watched him sadly. “I…I was making you uncomfortable, wasn’t I? I’m sorry, I just thought you were trying to be a nuisance.” No shit he was fucking uncomfortable, how the hell did she misread that?! At least she looked upset by this, but it was way too late for that. Castys still felt like there were bugs crawling all over him, and he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. 

Neteri reached out a hand in a misguided attempt to comfort him, but after seeing how Castys flinched and bared his teeth, she backed off. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave you alone. Well, I’ll go get you something to eat, and then I’ll leave you alone. Until tomorrow, and then you’ll have a tongue again and you can complain all you want and yell at me, okay?” Castys would rather never have to see her stupid face ever again, but that’s not how this was gonna work, so he just nodded silently, not relaxing until she’d left the room. 

He almost wanted to take a shower again, just to wash the feeling of her hands off, but it was starting to subside, so he just pulled his shirt back on and hid under the covers. What was that, exactly? He knew he didn’t like being touched, and he’d never let anyone do it remotely that much, so maybe being touched for so long in such an invasive way had been too overwhelming. Castys had thought he’d be a little tougher than this, since the thought of pain didn’t really scare him, but apparently being pinned down and touched was too much for him? Kind of…pathetic. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he could talk, protest, fight back a little bit with his words. Maybe he’d be okay once he could talk again.

He just hoped Neteri wasn’t lying about giving him his tongue back.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ 

@starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump 

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​

@whumpedydump

[jrueships]

Paul George on Stephen A. Smith’s Kawhi Leonard jab: “I didn’t like that moment… Kawhi wants to play… We exhausted a lot out of Kawhi this season. So at some point your body breaks you down… I didn’t appreciate that moment. I know I laughed because the situation was lighthearted, but deep down it was like you gotta let that go, Stephen A.”

Paul George, knight in shining armor

[crybaby-bkg]

something something……you record touching yourself in the shower…..something something denki hacks into your phone w his nerd tech shit something something………shares the footage with shinsou who calls him a sicko but also asks for him to send the full video…….something something showing the BakuSquad the video too and having a group jerk off session getting off to it something………blackmailing you w the video……..something something touch yourself like that in front of us and we won’t send it out something something slimy, sleazy pro heroes who shouldn’t be as infatuated with regular civilian you something………..

[amiharana]

i come bearing a revalink suggestion,, they’re friends?? rivals?? but Revali’s been trying to rile Link up in a more flirtatious way and it all comes to a head when the champaign’s are out on an expedition with Zelda and oops! someone forgot to bring enough bedrolls for the night, enter: sharing a bed

yk what i mean

HI ANON i'm sorry i took so long to answer 😭 but thank you for the suggestion 👁️👁️ i've written about revalink sharing a hammock, but that was them in an established relationship, so this.... and they were hammockmates (oh my god they were hammockmates)

the premise of my canon-based situationship fic (if i ever get to write it LOL) was going to kinda be like this, a pre-calamity revalink who have decided they are no longer going to be rivals, but not necessarily friends, and then somehow revali catches feelings for link 😄 i just love the idea of revali seeing link and being like "this fucking idiot. i want him so bad." and reluctantly attempting to court him even if he knows that link doesn't understand what he's trying to do. my favorite part of this is that link is completely clueless. he has no idea what the hell is going on but he appreciates that revali is nicer to him :D

(warning: long ass fucking post. but we are so fucking back baby)

imagine revali trying his damndest to work up the courage to go give link a bouquet of swift violets, because (1) he knows it's a hylian courting ritual and link is a pretty simple guy, so he'll probably appreciate flowers, right? (2) revali thinks swift violets are very pretty flowers actually, and (3) they have a functional use in increasing link's speed during a fight when cooked into a meal, and with how often link gets injured in battle, goddess knows he needs the extra boost. imagining revali trying to give the bouquet to link on several occasions, but he always ends up chickening out or he waits too long so the bouquet gets ruined or dies so he has to gather more flowers for a new one, and when he finally gets to actually hand the bouquet to link, he gets nervous and insults link like the dumbass he is 😭 ("being the one with more foresight between the two of us, i predicted you would be in great need of something as simple as these swift violets. perhaps you could stand to learn a meal or two utilizing their innate effects on the field.") and then it turns out link is actually allergic to swift violets KJDHFKJSHDKFJH and revali has to take him to the infirmary in shame

just an endless string of the most cartoonish failures of revali's attempts to court link ☝️😹 because it either ends in disaster or link completely misunderstands the situation, and of course revali gets frustrated that link isn't understanding his advances, what an idiot! and it makes him want link even more! so his advances become more and more obvious until even daruk is like. hey man. please calm down now it's not that serious. and revali is like NO he's so stupid daruk how can he not understand that i am trying to court him!!! how much clearer can i make it? (meanwhile daruk is like 🧍)

but revali's desperate pleads are answered when zelda calls the champions early in the morning into the throne room for a mission 🙇 i'm thinking maybe there have been sightings of a lynel up in the northernmost part of akkala and it seems to be much more powerful that the citadel squadrons can handle, so they've called in the help of the champions. not that i'm actually gonna write about them fighting the lynel though 😹 you know me, i just be creating context and circumstances wherever i go

"they couldn't handle one lynel? revali says, when the princess finishes. "you would think a fortress chock-full of hyrule's greatest soldiers would be able to take at least one down."

"well, i don't see you volunteering," urbosa says crossing her arms, a faint smile on her lips. "would you like to show them how it's done?"

revali shoots her a glare and then tilts his beak up, tossing his braids over his shoulder. "hmph. i normally don't waste my time on something as savage as a lynel, but if it could inspire better archers of the citadel, then i suppose my extraordinary skills may be necessary there." out of the corner of his eye, he glances at link; the little hylian doesn't react at all to his boasting, continuing to stand calmly at attention. it irks something in revali, but he blows air out of his beak and turns his head again. stupid link.

zelda sighs. "well, if we are all settled then, i dismiss you all to begin preparations to leave. we hope to leave just past noon and make it to foothill stable by nightfall."

"that'll be right in between our homes, miphy!" daruk says, placing his hands on his hips and leaning backward to laugh heartily. "ah, we've stayed at the castle so long i almost forgot what the heat of death mountain feels like!"

"i feel similarly, daruk," mipha says, giving a small smile. "i wonder if my father and sidon are doing well..."

zelda bows her head in remorse. "i apologize for keeping you all from home for so long. i did not intend for you to stay this long, either."

"it's alright, little bird," urbosa says, stepping forward to place a hand on zelda's shoulder in reassurance. "it's our duty as champions to serve the land of hyrule and protect it from all evildoing. if staying a little longer is what will ensure this era of peace and prosperity, then so be it; we can be patient." she smiles at the princess, and zelda stares at her with wide eyes for a moment before returning the smile.

"thank you, urbosa, i appreciate your kind words," she says. zelda turns back to the rest of the champions and bows her head slightly again. "i will see you all in a few hours. thank you."

SORRY FOR WRITING OUT THINGS THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE PROMPT LMAO. ONCE AGAIN. I JUST LOVE TO SET THE STAGE AND CREATE A CIRCUMSTANCE. i also just miss the lack of champions in totk 🥹 but anyways! zelda & the champions meet at the front of the castle and with some extra personnel (hi impa!) & a battalion, they all set out towards the akkala citadel as the sun hits its peak in the sky.

at this point, you might be thinking, why don't they just travel in the divine beasts since they're bigger and can cover more ground in a shorter period of time? and to that i tell you, 🌸 shut the fuck up 🌸 KJDFHKDFJKH nah but in my head in this point of time, the champions all left their divine beasts in their respective regions because they're all still learning to control them and they would rather not go stomping around on random civilians while traversing hyrule. do you know how insane it would be to be a traveler going through hyrule field to visit the coliseum or something and then all of a sudden, a gigantic stone camel with long ass legs nearly squashes you flat? i would die of a heart attack on the spot.

i also think it's important to romanticize the naturalness of traveling on-foot and it would also be interesting to see how they would accommodate for each champions' needs or habits as they travel together; they have to travel near water so that mipha doesn't dehydrate, revali and daruk leave the main group momentarily every now and then to go burst into the sky or roll down further along the path respectively bc they're sick of walking, etc.

the group reaches foothill stable just after sundown; revali complains that they should have just brute forced it to the citadel since it was just further down the road, but zelda insists that it could be dangerous since ganon's power seems to be growing and they could be ambushed by monsters in the night. as safe as the citadel seems, they shouldn't let down their guard! so revali, not wanting to fight with the literal princess of hyrule, just shuts his beak and trudges along after the rest of the group, the calm warm glow of the stable in the distance growing brighter as they approach. he won't admit it out loud but he's a little weary from travel too 😹

link and zelda board their horses at the stable, and everyone else sets up camp just off to the side of the stable, pitching tents, starting campfires and cooking pots, and passing out bedrolls. but as they unpack and pass out bedrolls, they realize that there's not enough for everyone to sleep comfortably through the night. zelda pays for the rest of the beds in the stable to cover for the rest of the battalion, but it leaves out one soldier who link knows happens to have sleeping problems or something. so he decides to give up his bedroll to the dude; it's not like he needs it as much, he could probably fall asleep straight in the dirt right now if he wanted.

"ah, champion link! i couldn't take this from you—" the man starts, but link just shakes his head and pushes the bedroll into his arms, giving him an insistent look. the soldier accepts the bedroll in defeat, but bows his head. "oh... well thank you, champion, i appreciate it very much!" link nods and turns away before returning to the rest of the champions.

"hello, link— where's your bedroll?" mipha says, noticing the lack of one in his hands. link tilts his head back towards the soldier he had given his bedroll to. "oh, what about you?"

he just shakes his head. "don't need one," link says softly. though he's comfortable speaking with the champions, he's still not used to the way his own voice reverberates against his throat; he hasn't used his voice as much as he should since he took his 'vow of silence'.

"what do you mean you don't need one, little guy?" daruk says, scratching his head. "i might be a goron, but fleshy little hylians like you are made for fluffy beds and—"

but link pays him no mind and strides over to a nearby tree (one that happens to be near the two that revali has set his hammock up at 👁️), drops his stuff on the ground and sits next to it, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed. mipha and daruk both open their mouths to object, but urbosa places a hand on both of their shoulders.

"leave him be," she says, as all of them watch link settle against the tree. "that boy is far too stubborn for his own good. once he has his mind set on something, he won't give up."

"you sure the little guy's gonna be alright?" daruk says, face contorted into an expression of concern. "i know he's tough, but i can't imagine that what he's doing is comfortable at all."

"he'll be fine," urbosa reassures him. she glances to the side, where revali is already keeping an eye on link, sitting at the tree where the farther end of his hammock from the little hylian is tied and tending to his bow. she smirks knowingly; "he's already in good care."

so everyone gets ready for the night; the battalion soldiers are already fast asleep, zelda, urbosa, and impa are sleeping in the stable beds, daruk is rolled up closer to the rockier terrain near the stable, mipha is straight up sleeping in the nearby cephla lake, leaving link and revali to be the only people awake. they're both still sitting against the trees, revali making the final tweaks to the great eagle bow and link polishing the master sword. revali has been stealing glances at link the entire time, watching and waiting for an opportunity (and also working up the courage) to say something. even at the base of death mountain, the cold night wind perseveres and revali catches every single tremor that goes through link's body as he shivers. maybe he could offer to...

"why did you give up your bedroll?" revali says finally. to be honest, he could probably already figure out an answer if he wanted to, but he asks anyway.

link pauses and glances up at him, before returning to polishing. revali's feathers ruffle at the lack of answer and he looks away, beak clenching. while he cared not for link's stance on verbal speech, acknowledging him and not giving an answer was rather unnecessary, wasn't it? especially since link had grown comfortable speaking with the princess and the champions, that should have included revali as well—

"i don't need one," link says suddenly, so softly, revali has to hold his breath, straining to hear the little hylian. link's voice is so quiet, it could be carried away by the night wind and revali is borderline obsessed with it, but the answer he gives is the same one he had given to the other champions. so revali says nothing and stares at link, prompting him to elaborate. "torin needed it more than me."

"torin?" revali questions. he wonders how much of the hyrulean army link knows by name.

"the man i gave my bedroll to," link replies, still wiping at his blade. "excellent fighter, great with a sword. but his chronic pain makes it difficult for him on the field." he sets down the cloth he was using to polish the master sword with and holds it up, appraising the blade. it glints in the moonlight quite elegantly. "giving him my bedroll is the least i can do to aid his comfort."

for a moment, revali is speechless; he had known that link was rather altruistic, always offering to help out even if it was inconvenient to himself. perhaps he shouldn't be surprised at all.

"you didn't have to do that though," revali says. he has stopped tending to his own bow at this point, letting it lay across his lap instead. "isn't it 'first come first serve' with you hylians? you were one of the first to receive a bedroll. you could have kept it to yourself, and i doubt anyone would complain since you're their champion."

link only shakes his head. "he needed it more than me," he insists, still in the same soft voice. "as a captain and a champion, it's my duty to care for my fellow knights. we're only as strong as our weakest member."

"then what about you?" revali says, staring straight at link. "if that's true, you're in no better of a situation than he was in previously."

"i'll survive," link says simply, and then, he yawns. at the same exact moment, another cold night breeze passes by, tousling link's bangs and once more does revali watch, completely entranced by the way link's body shivers in reaction. then, he slides the master sword back in its scabbard before raising his arms to stretch and yawn again. "sleeping on the ground for one night isn't that big of a deal."

and revali sees his chance and it stares right back at him like it's a challenge, like an eye glowing bright gold in the darkness; this is now or never.

"you don't have to sleep on the ground," he says quietly, but he looks down at the bow in his lap when he says it. in the corner of his eye, he sees link's arms pause mid-stretch before he slowly lowers them. he can feel the piercing blue gaze of link's eyes searing right through his cheek feathers and in turn, his heart skips a beat. stupid, stupid link. revali wishes he could despise the effect that a hylian of all people has on him.

"what do you mean?" link says in similar volume.

revali looks up to meet his gaze and swallows at the sight of those terribly beautiful blue eyes sparkling at him in the moonlight. now or never. "you could stay with me," he says softly, before he loses his nerve.

and link's eyes widen. if revali lets his vision blur a little, perhaps he can convince himself into thinking that the pink flush on link's cheeks is just the natural color of hylian skin, or just a trick of the moon's light and the glow of lava oozing down death mountain above them. but nothing can change the fact that he can see the entirety of link's irises, or the slight part in his lips.

"with you? in your...?" link whispers, but in this moment, his voice is the only thing the rito can hear at all. revali gives a single nod. "why?" there's not a single hint of mirth in link's voice, only genuine surprise.

revali looks away. "your heroism makes you foolish enough to give up the supplies necessary for your own survival in order to ensure the survival of others," he murmurs. "look at you, you're shaking in the cold like a loose feather. if you were a rito like i, you wouldn't have this problem."

he hears link snort and glances up at him. link is looking at him fully, a small smile on his face, and perhaps they are far too close to death mountain with the way that heat floods revali's cheeks and makes his limbs melt into the ground.

"and we wouldn't want the princess and the hyrulean army to wake up in the morning finding that their beloved champion froze to death in the night," he continues softly.

"no, i suppose not," link replies, still smiling. but the smile fades in the next moment or two, the pink flush revali had tried to pretend was just the color of his skin returning to link's cheeks much darker than before, as if to goad him. "s-so... how are we going to...?" he trails off, staring at revali with wide blue eyes.

revali blinks, and then swallows. truthfully, he didn't think he would get this far, but there's no backing out now. with his heart grabbing the bones of his ribcage and bashing its head against them, revali stands dusting himself off and hangs the great eagle bow on one of the branches of the tree. then, he turns back to face link, who's still staring at him with wide blue eyes and his pretty pink-flushed face from the ground. he walks towards link until he's standing in front of the little hylian, and then offers a hand.

"well firstly, are you ready for bed?" revali says, attempting to sound irritated, like his own offer is an inconvenience to him. but it's all in vain; his voice comes out too soft, too tender, too fond.

link stares up at him for a couple moments more before nodding, so revali extends his hand a little further out. "hurry up then," he says, voice still so unbearably soft. "i wouldn't do this for anyone else."

so link takes his hand and revali pulls him up in one swift movement. but he pulls too hard, because before he can even register it, suddenly both of link's hands are on his chest, his body pressed up against revali's. instinctively, one of his arms goes to circle link's waist, pushing them closer together, and the rito's ears are full of the sound of link's quiet gasp at the pressure; is he depraved to want to push him closer, to hear it again?

"s-sorry," link whispers, just slightly pushing off of revali's chest. "i didn't mean to—"

"it's fine," revali whispers back. with all his will, he lets his arm fall from link's waist to let him step away, resisting the urge to pull the warm little hylian back into his embrace. hylia above, how could revali ever have offered to share his hammock with such depravities rotting his mind?

revali turns away to walk towards the hammock, desperately trying to ignore the electric pull of the string tying him back to link. he looks over his shoulder back at the little hylian. "come on," revali says, feigning all the coolness, all the suaveness he can muster. the show must go on, after all.

revali slides into the hammock easily, settling into a comfortable position, and then he looks back at link. the little hylian stares down at his body and suddenly he feels self-conscious, his crest feathers ruffling. "are you getting in or would you rather stand there until sunrise?" revali snaps, and then cringes at his own tone.

but link only looks at him with the same wide, blue-eyed gaze sparkling in the moonlight. "yeah," he whispers, "i just..."

"just get in," revali mutters, looking away. "i won't fall out unless you're trying to make me fall out on purpose."

and slowly, so slowly, link grabs the edge of the hammock closer to him with hesitant, gentle fingers. he looks up at revali, who gives him a nod of encouragement, so he continues, reaching over revali's chest to grab the opposite edge of the hammock and begins to climb in. with some fidgeting and struggling, link lies atop revali's chest, their legs somehow tangled together. revali hopes the little hylian can't hear his heart drumming its high-strung song against his ribs.

"you're so warm," link whispers. "i didn't think you'd be."

"how do you think the rito are able to live so close to the hebra mountains?" revali murmurs back. "our feathers are insulative and keep us warm even in the most bitter of winters." he pauses, considering his next words, and then continues. "if you ever return to the village... our artisans are working on a prototype of an outfit to help featherless hylians like yourself brave the frigid temperatures of hebra. they are... using some of my own plumage to make it. if you wanted to truly experience the power of rito feathers yourself, i extend an invitation for you to come visit rito village at your earliest convenience."

"i'd like that a lot," link murmurs in response.

the rito hums in acknowledgement and they both fall silent. another cold wind breezes past and this time, link curls closer around revali's body, sighing quietly. instinctively, the rito raises his wings and drapes them around the little hylian's form in response, pressing him even closer than before. they stay just like this, beginning to drift off to the sounds of nature around them.

"revali?" link says suddenly, pulling revali a little bit out of his drowsy.

"mm?" revali replies. he doesn't try to summon the energy to even pretend to be irritated, only wrapping his wings tighter around link's body.

"thank you," link whispers. "for this. you didn't have to."

revali just hums back, letting the drowsiness pull him under. "go to sleep," he mumbles. "there will be more time for gratitude in the morning."

"okay," link whispers back, and revali feels him snuggle closer. there's a moment of hesitation, and in the next, it dissipates as revali finally falls asleep, feeling link's arms circle his torso, embracing him gently.

in the morning, the champions find them wrapped around each other in the hammock, urbosa being the first. she smirks down at them, a hand on her hip and shaking her head in amusement.

"ah, urbosa, where's link—?" mipha says as she approaches the chieftess. but she spots them right away, snapping her mouth shut and blinking owlishly until it grows in a held-back grin.

"i told you, link is already in good care," urbosa says. she looks past mipha to see daruk and zelda walking over, the latter yawning and tying her hair up. when they see the predicament that revali and link have gotten themselves into, daruk has to hold back a guffaw and zelda just rolls her eyes.

"they took their time, didn't they?" zelda grumbles.

"with all due respect, you should not be the one to talk, princess," mipha says, smiling politely. zelda wrinkles her nose at the zora princess, who giggles behind her hand.

"none of you should be talking at all," comes revali's voice, gravelly and hoarse from sleep. the champions turn back to the hammock, where revali gives them a dirty look with only one eye open. he remains in his position in the hammock, wings still wrapped around link who's asleep on his chest. "speak louder than a summer breeze and i'll show you the true strength of a rito's shot."

"my, my, so aggressive," urbosa muses. "has he made you soft for him already?" revali's glare only intensifies, so she holds up her hands in playful surrender. "alright, i'll leave you two alone. everyone, let's go start making breakfast. we have some time before we need to be at the citadel."

the rest of the champions begin to walk over to the cooking pots they've set up, zelda's head on mipha's shoulder and daruk listing off what his favorite types of rock meals are for breakfast. when they're out of earshot, revali relaxes and lets a breath out through the nares of his beak.

"what'd they mean, 'take our time'?" link suddenly mumbles against revali's chest.

revali blinks in surprise, staring down at the mop of dark gold hair atop him. "nothing you need to concern yourself with," he says, eyes wide. "when did you wake up?"

"been 'wake since 'fore sunrise," link mumbles. "jus' too warm 'n comfy to get up. hope you don't mind."

revali relaxes and sighs. "you're lucky i'm too comfortable to care either," he murmurs. he adjusts the way his wings are wrapped around link's body, and the little hylian hums and snuggles closer. suddenly, revali feels wide awake and he swears his heart could jump right out of his chest right now. "do you plan on remaining shackled to my body for the rest of the morning?"

"if you'll let me," link murmurs in response, and the rito feels like the breath has been stolen from his lungs.

"fine," revali acquiesces, once he feels like he can breathe again. "just this once... you'll have to get up to eat anyway. everyone here knows about your voracious appetite. you're incredibly insatiable for a hylian." it's not like he truly wants link to leave anyway... but link doesn't need to know that part.

link hums. "okay." they're both quiet for a couple moments, until the little hylian speaks again. "thank you again for this, revali. i appreciate it a lot."

revali pauses, his heart skipping several beats now. "good to know you possess enough of a developed brain to not take my gifts for granted," he replies, barely keeping the tremor out of his voice. but the rito's voice softens as he continues. "and... you're welcome. my kindness is not a gift i grant as often as you might think. so treasure it now; you may not be so lucky to receive it so freely again."

"i will," link replies, his voice muffled in revali's feathers. the rito swears he can feel link smiling into his skin. "so thanks again."

revali blows air through his nares of his beak. stupid, stupid link. try as he might to reject and dislike the effect this little hylian has on him, he can't help but crave it more and more. perhaps the bestowal of more of revali's gifts onto link are in order...

[entering--hyperspace]

Sjiwjwiwqnjawn it feels silly to start writing about an 8 year old oc again, in a way. But it also feels like i missed out on a lot bc i was younger at the time...its hard to describe. Idk, my brain wasnt fully developed i couldn't cook oc lore as hard as I can now, i didnt have the skill i wanted to show my ideas like I do (kinda) now. Idk i feel like im in a weird place where it feels too late to really make my mark and share stuff about him while knowing ive been yapping a lot about him as i go through the story and flesh out parts of him i either forgot or felt too cringe to actually.

[ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty]

I know it's been talked about many times before, but I just love the hc that Hunter started falling asleep everywhere in the human realm since he finally felt safe and comfortable enough to let his guard down for once.

Like I'm just imagining the kids a few weeks after coming to the human realm, sitting on the floor of the living room, all staring at Luz as she tries to explain the rules of uno to them (to at least try to get a sense of normalcy back into her life.) Gus is staring at her, wide-eyed, trying to soak up all possible information about this odd human game, Amity is just happy to finally see Luz smiling again, Willow is trying to collect all the green cards and Hunter is just sitting contentedly on his little pillow, Luz's voice going in one ear and out the other, though he is trying hard to memorise the rules. And with every question Gus asks, Hunters head sinks lower and lower, until his chin is resting against his chest and hes completely dozed off. The kids notice, but they don't bother him at all, even though they know his neck is gonna be killing him when he wakes up. They let him sleep, lower their voices, and try not to giggle when the uno cards slowly slip out of his grip. Flapjack is resting in his hair, and for a little while, everything seems fine. They dont need to mention that this is the longest Hunter has slept without waking up screaming from whatever monster was plaguing his dreams.

All of the kids start to notice how often Hunter would just suddenly fall asleep in the middle of doing something. He fell asleep on top of the recipe when he was trying to help Camila cook dinner once, he completely crashed in Luz's room another time when she was giving him a summary of the good witch Azura books, which Luz found odd, since he seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying. He keeps drifting off when he spends time in the garden outside with Willow, but none of the kids say anything when Willow just makes a bed of flowers for him and continues her gardening. They've all noticed how prone Hunter is to falling asleep when theyre with him, all except Amity...

When he's with her, he always stands too tall, or sits up too straight. Amity doesnt really seem to care too much, just chalks it up to their rocky relationship from the past, but she cant deny that it does bother her how rigid he always is around her compared to everyone else. She brings up her concerns to Luz, and Luz tells her that she should try talking to him, and so she does. She goes down to the basement one day to see Hunter stitching up a shirt, all alone. As soon as he notices her walk in, he sits up straighter and puffs his chest out. Even though his movements arent all that obvious or exaggerated, its uncomfortably close to how he used to hold himself as the golden guard. So Amity sighs, sits down cross-legged in front of him, and starts talking, just like her girlfriend told her to. And after a long, emotional talk about expectations and abuse, Hunters shoulders sag and his back relaxes a bit. A few days later Luz walks into the living room to find Amity reading a book, and Hunter sound asleep right next to her.

[languri]

I cant afford therapy so I decide to make an s/i oc just to make myself happy 🥲 i can finally daydream in peace

[scarrletmoon]

okay i have to know if anyone else has written ed wearing a bell bc if it turns out i predicted it over a year in advance, im gonna be sooooo insufferable about it

[nevalizona]

I want to name these two ocs soooo bad😭😭😭😭 they're all I want to talk about ahhhhhh

[vulpixelates]

there's nothing like editing and formatting to send me into a hyperfixation tunnel where i don't notice basic needs like "OH GOD MOVE YOU'RE TOO OLD TO SIT IN THIS POSITION" or "pls consume sustenance"