#Y’ALL !!!!!

[alsofoundinpeas]

The way I was hurrying to read this between calls at work is a clear testament to just how good this was oh my GOSHHHH !!

Send Nudes

Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 

It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 

It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 

Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 

A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 

You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 

“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 

You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 

You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 

Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 

“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 

“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 

“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 

“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 

Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 

A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.

“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 

“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 

“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 

“I’m not… offended.”

You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 

“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 

Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 

If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.

The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 

He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 

“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 

He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 

Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”

“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?

He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”

“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”

That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 

“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”

His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.

His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 

The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 

It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 

He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 

A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.

Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”

The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 

“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”

A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”

“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 

Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 

Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 

He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 

When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 

Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 

Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 

Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 

It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 

As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”

His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 

“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 

He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 

“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 

“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 

The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 

You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 

Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 

Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 

“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 

It was everything you wanted right then, too. 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 

He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 

Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 

Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 

You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 

“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 

He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 

There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.

“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 

His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 

With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 

The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 

You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 

“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 

Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 

With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 

“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 

The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 

“So, you want to fuck me?” 

“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”

With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 

Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 

“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 

Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 

“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”

One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 

With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 

For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 

“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 

You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 

“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 

“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”

“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”

“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

[et-in-arkadia]

aziraphale and crowley try to perform the tiniest most unobservable fraction of a miracle together and they end up producing a massive burst of power so astonishing in scope that it sets off alarm bells in heaven where it can be seen as an enormous purple beam and radiates with a force twenty-five times the energy needed to raise someone from the dead. we’re told only an archangel could perform an act of such earth-shaking consequence which again is the result of them trying to exert their abilities in the subtlest way possible so can you imagine what they’re going to be like in bed? talk about the second coming. in this essay i will

[procrastiel]

Please y’all. Listen to the podcast before you accuse Neil or cancel him.

The article was written by the right wing.

The apparent accuser herself said it was consensual.

Believe the victim. The victim said it was consensual. Why are we believing Rachel Johnson who wrote the article, and who happens to be Boris Johnson’s sister?

[cokowiii]

*throws up*

[littler3d]

“It’s Odysseus’ fault” “It’s Eurylochus’ fault” “it’s everyone’s fault” WRONG

👏always 👏blame 👏the 👏gods 👏when 👏they 👏meddle 👏in 👏the 👏story 👏

[cryptidbait]

Kombatember Day 8: Wounded

[myteenageendocrinologist]

Get this, furniture but make it outta leaves call it Ferniture

[seveneyesoup]

ninth doctor kill yourself is ruining me btw. any time i have any kind of aggravation with anything i’m like “kill yourself.” and that’s very often Not a thing that’s appropriate to say

[marshmallowcat666]

I’m currently hyperfixated rereading Ftfo and can barely do any drawing but I’m trying!!! ‘^’ Designs are easier to draw for some reason so might see only those for a bit T-T

anyways have my version of Lord Lunar’s Gemini! They get fun new outfits!!!

[missallanious]

They!! When they!! When! When they!! WheEeeEen!

[lazybakerart]

no. you don’t understand. tommy wore his tightest shirt to apologize to the pretty man he just met for making him sad.

[kawaiialeisha]

How feral are you over reboot wally

Beyond incredibly.

✨ Reboot AU belongs to: @bloodrediscream !!

(I SEE YOU PEOPLE IN MY INBOX HARASSING ME FOR THIS DRAWING TO BE SHOWN /HJ)

(ITS CROPPED THOUGH SO HAHAHAHAA)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Prisoner of War (Imprisoning War)

Despite the chaos of the battle, something distinct caught Ganondorf’s attention. In a sea of red hair and brown skin paired with leather and steel, in a sea of armor and white banners, there was light gold, like the pale yellow chrysanthemums Orik had gifted to Hemisi.

Orik. Link.

Link was here.

Damn that child. He’d told him to stay away. He knew the boy hadn’t listened, but to have the audacity to fight where Ganondorf himself was…

Well, he had to admit the boy had far more gumption to him than he’d realized. It was no wonder Hemisi had fallen for him.

Ganondorf caught the attention of his commander. “Bring Link to me. Alive.”

XXX

It had been no small feat.

Link was a menace on the battlefield. The boy had gotten far better with that blasted sword, swinging it with ease, dodging and weaving around the Gerudo and monster attacks. He clearly still favored getting in close and personal, often tripping up his enemies so they’d lose their footing before he dove in for a finishing blow. There was no hesitation to it, either – the young fighter was no stranger to killing at this point.

Nevertheless, he went down when Ganondorf cut off the reinforcements that were around him, leaving him to be overwhelmed.

With their Hero captured, the enemy forces had to fall back. It seemed Link was enough of a powerhouse that they couldn’t win the fight without him – at least their general thought so.

Ganondorf waited in his tent, adrenaline fresh in his system, slowly taking his armor off as the guards dragged the boy to him. He heard their approach easily; Link was moaning, clearly hurt, and it made the Gerudo king tense up instinctively.

When they entered the tent, the women tossed the boy on the ground, and he let out a cry of pain. Ganondorf watched him a moment, eyes flicking up to his soldiers, and he dismissed them. Link shriveled into himself a little, though he didn’t seem to move his right leg, which looked misshapen.

Broken, most likely.

A part of the king felt vindicated. This is what happens when you don’t listen, he wanted to growl. But the way Link squeezed his eyes shut, tears mixing with sweat, face stained with blood and dirt…

Ganondorf sighed, kneeling down in front of him. “I told you to stay out of this, boy.”

Link grunted, breaths sharp and unsteady.

Ganondorf supposed there was little need to drive the point home. He’d said what he needed to. The lack of apology or acknowledgement was irritating, but understandable given the boy’s state.

The boy’s state. He remembered seeing the teenager laughing, throwing powders that matched every hue of light into the air during the Festival of Colors. He remembered seeing the boy smiling as he taught Hemisi traditional Sheikah dances and songs. He remembered the young man’s keen eyes glowing with wonder as he’d listened to him tell stories. He remembered the child’s desperate look for comfort, his fear and trust when he’d been so ill he could hardly breathe. He remembered the warmth in his heart when he’d taught the boy how to shave, how those expressive red eyes watched his every move, reminding him so much of Merovar’s younger years that it almost hurt.

And here now, he saw a warrior, bloodied and bruised and broken and in pain.

Ganondorf bit his tongue. Then he sighed, gently picking the boy up and laying him on the cot nearby. Link hissed in pain, jerking his entire body as his broken leg was jostled. The Gerudo didn’t bother to apologize for hurting the boy, still irate, but there was little point in arguing with the softer side that was screaming he clean the child up.

What would he do with him? He wondered as he slowly stripped the boy of his armor, removing first his belt and scarf, then his boot off his uninjured leg. He should have the boy taken back to Lagema, where he could be kept safe and out of the way. Hemisi would no doubt be thrilled.

Hemisi. He definitely wasn’t going to tell her about this until the boy was secured in the Gerudo capital. The last thing he needed was for her to get distracted. Though, perhaps she’d be even more motivated to ferociously defend the desert knowing she was protecting him as well as everyone else, rather than fighting against him. Who knew. The teenage drama that had been unfolding between the pair because of this conflict was an entirely different matter that Ganondorf did not have patience for at the moment.

Perhaps it was best Hemisi didn’t know for a good while. She would remain at her station on the edge of Hyrule territory, safe from the main conflict.

But if he wasn’t saving this boy for his daughter’s sake, then… what was he doing??

You know damn well that you’ve gotten attached too, his mind taunted him as he sighed heavily. He reached carefully for Link’s other boot, shushing him as he winced and moaned while he removed it.

Link lay trembling on the cot now, looking far too broken and beaten down for the Gerudo king’s liking. He pulled away the dark mask the boy wore, showing his young face, showing the tear tracks and the way he bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming and showing weakness.

He told himself he’d clean the boy up once he’d stripped off some more layers, reaching for his gloves next. Link needed a bath and a potion (a part of him wanted the boy to stay injured, as a lesson and a means to ensuring he didn’t escape, while another part of him screamed to heal him now, to stop his moans and cries and soothe his tears).

The right glove came off easily. The left—

Link hissed, pulling his hand away. Ganondorf gently reached for it again. “Let me look, child.”

Link glared in return, breaths coming in shaky heaves.

The Gerudo king huffed. “Of my three children, you were the gentlest and sweetest. Strange that you went to war first.”

“You started it!” Link snapped before wincing as he tried to sit up.

“I do remember your temper,” Ganondorf remarked, gently pushing him back down. “I warned you not to get involved, Link. I had you captured to protect you, and you still don’t think I’ll help you? Let me see your hand.”

“You betrayed—” Link cut himself off, lips trembling.

“Betrayed who?” Ganondorf asked, mildly annoyed. “You?”

There was silence for a long time, neither man breaking eye contact. Then Link muttered, tiredly, brokenly, “You’d said you cared. That you…”

The boy swallowed his words, doubling down on an attempt to be stoic and strong.

I put my entire operation at risk for you, idiotic child, he almost snapped, but Ganondorf didn’t voice it. He had no reason to justify himself to this boy. Instead, he said, “The Triforce is mine, Link.”

“It belongs to—”

“A foolish king!” Ganondorf interrupted. “Who throws his power away at anyone who grovels enough! Such a man is unworthy of divine power!”

“Ozen isn’t king anymore!” Link argued, sitting up again, breath growing erratic as he fought through the pain to make his point. “Zelda is the rightful ruler of Hyrule, and she’s a far better leader than you ever will be! She doesn’t put her people in peril for her own selfish desires! You ingratiated yourself to everyone so you could steal the Triforce, you never cared!”

Anger surged through him, and Ganondorf channeled it quickly, backhanding the defiant teenager. The force of the blow nearly sent the boy careening off the cot, but Link recovered quickly, glaring at him as if he hadn’t felt it despite how his lip bled.

They were getting nowhere. This boy wouldn’t listen! Ganondorf should just kill him and be done with it!

“Did your time with us mean so little to you?” he said in a low voice, surprising himself at the regret panging in his chest all of a sudden. Where had that come from? “Did Hemisi mean so little to you?”

Link’s anger melted in an instant, eyes widening, hurt evident. For a moment, Ganondorf saw the sweet, placating child he’d known, the fierce warrior fading into the background. “I… it… sh-she… she meant everything to me.”

That was a lie and he knew it. But the tears in the boy’s eyes were genuine, and Ganondorf hated how it was working on him.

“Yet you fight her people, her father,” he snapped in return.

Link’s tears vanished, replaced with a rage he hadn’t seen in the boy. “Did you expect me to lay down and let you try to destroy my country?”

“I expected loyalty if you truly loved her,” Ganondorf rebuked, voice darkening.

“You expect groveling,” Link hissed. “You expect slavery. My loyalty isn’t blind, I’m not the idiot you think I am!”

This was going nowhere and he knew it. His own temper was rising, and Link was working himself up so much his face was actually draining of color like he was about to pass out.

Idiot child, he berated the boy in his mind. And he berated himself – why had he thought it was a good idea to capture him?

It was honestly pointless denying that he’d grown attached to the boy. But it was equally pointless to see this ending well. Link was too far gone… wasn’t he?

He’d spared that boy when Link had found the Master Sword. Of all the times—if Ganondorf were to have ever killed him, it would have been then. It wasn’t as if the Gerudo king hadn’t been surprised, perhaps even horrified at the sight of it – a sword of destiny, imbued with divine power to defeat darkness, etched into the fabric of destiny and history as a beacon of hope for Hyrule against its enemies… and it was in the hands of a child Ganondorf had grown to love.

Link. It was supposed to be an anomaly. That name wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Destiny wasn’t supposed to meddle with his family.

Ganondorf gritted his teeth. Din’s warning echoed in the back of his mind, and he grew angrier for it. How dare she try to torment him like this? She, who had given him a second chance at life, who had placed him in this land after he’d nearly died at the hands of the sages, who had listened to his plea when she’d offered him an alternative, only for her to tear his family apart?

He felt his eyes widen a little at the thought of it. Since when had he started viewing Link as family, anyway? He’d known from the beginning, even from the night before the assault, that the boy would not join their fight.

Link fell back on to the pillow of the cot, whimpering a little at the sudden movement as he lost his strength. He tried to save face, scrunching his face and refusing to look the king in the eye. Ganondorf sighed, taking a step back to give them both some space.

He supposed he had presumed Link would join them when it was done. Because there wasn’t supposed to be a war. Not like this. It was supposed to be swift, decisive, quick and clean. The original plan was to take the Triforce and immediately take Hyrule with it. That would have simplified things. Ganondorf didn’t mind getting his hands dirty, and a war wasn’t going to stop him, but if it had gone the way it was supposed to, he’d already be ruling all the lands, his wife at his side, and his children would be happy.

Besides… now that war had broken out and he was seeing Link as a fierce warrior, he felt… even more admiration for the kid. The sweet Sheikah who was always so shy and quiet and acquiescing, who held a little mischief to his eye whenever Hemisi pulled him into silliness, who was always respectful, who had enough grit to prove to a culture of warriors that he could hold his own in a fight at twelve years old… he was really coming into his own. Ganondorf had to respect the boy’s determination, had to smile at how the little glimpses he’d gotten of the iron will the boy held were finally shining through. The Gerudo king had always loved a challenge, and the boy was certainly both presenting himself as one and rising up to meet the one he was facing.

Either way, he had to figure out what to do with the boy now. He’d mull it over more as he finished cleaning him up. The fewer words they said to each other, the better. He knelt down carefully, putting a hand over the boy’s chest to quietly let him know he was there.

Link’s eyes barely opened, sluggish and exhausted. Ganondorf gently pulled the hair tie out of the knots that had formed around clots in his hair, letting it fall down into the mess that it was. The boy feebly moved at the touch, sniffling. He was too tired to put up a fight anymore, as the king suspected he might be. The vulnerability that was laid bare as a result made Ganondorf’s heart ache far more than it had any right to.

“Oh, Link,” he sighed.

At the sound of his name, Link’s eyes opened entirely now, tracing around confusedly at the ceiling before settling on the king. The blood from where he’d hit him earlier had started to clot, leaving a trail of red syrupy crust from his lip to his ear. Ganondorf’s gut churned a little at the sight of it, and he was strangely on edge.

He’s not family yet, he reminded himself. He’s still fighting for the enemy.

This conflicting loyalty was growing tiring and irritating, but he still needed to follow through with the original plan. He was a man of action, not indecisive debate based on sentimentality. Looking the teenager over, he saw where he’d left off, one fingerless leather glove remaining on Link’s left hand. The boy had pulled away when he’d touched it, so it was likely hurt.

Ganondorf took the boy’s hand in his own. Whatever injury Link had, he could—

The glove slipped off Link’s trembling fingers easily, revealing a sacred mark.

The blessing of Farore was etched on his skin, like the remnants of a kiss from the goddess herself.

Ganondorf stared.

What?!

All this time, he’d been looking for the other pieces of the Triforce. All this time, he’d been waging war with little idea how he would actually obtain his goal.

And it was hidden in his child.

The goddesses truly did love to torment him, didn’t they? Or was this some sort of sign that he should bring the boy into the fold and protect him?

But Link knew. He knew what this signified, because he was trying to hide it, because the boy still tried to pull his hand away, succeeded in doing so as Ganondorf’s grip went slack.

He felt his temper rise to the forefront, and he rose with it. “You have one of the pieces?”

Link tucked his left hand into his armpit as if it could hide the evidence, eyes halfheartedly glaring behind a very thinly veiled fear.

He was afraid of him. Of course he was afraid of him. Ganondorf was his enemy.

Link had chosen that path! Ganondorf had warned him at their last confrontation, despite the obvious signs that he should kill the boy! He’d told him to stay out of the fight! And now, after ignoring such an order, he willingly kept the Triforce of Courage away from him! It was clear the boy’s loyalty was to the crown, as Ganondorf had always known it would be, and nothing would change that. He wasn’t going to swear his fealty to Hemisi or Ganondorf. He never would!

To think he was so close to achieving everything that he wanted…

Ganondorf swallowed, swallowed his temper and tried one last time.

“Give it to me,” he said as calmly as he could, reaching his hand out.

Link’s fear evaporated, replaced only with determination, eyes hardening.

Ganondorf’s patience snapped, and he threw his hand down, ramming it into the child’s broken leg. “GIVE IT TO ME!”

Link screamed. It tore into Ganondorf’s mind, shredding the red haze that clouded his vision, but his heart raced and his desire for power thrummed just as loudly.

He wasn’t giving up his plans for a boy who wasn’t even family, who purposefully chose to not join his family. He refused. He gripped the warrior’s broken leg more firmly and, with his other hand, reached for his left wrist. Link couldn’t fight him, completely overrun with agony, but despite the sacred relic staring at him and mocking him, he couldn’t access it.

“Give up the Triforce of Courage or perish!” Ganondorf threatened.

Link gasped for air before seeming to get a hold of himself. He watched Ganondorf a moment, giving the king a moment of hope, before the boy spat at him, eyes vicious.

Ganondorf grabbed the brat by the throat, raising him into the air, snarling with fury. Link struggled, left leg trying to kick, tears freely falling as he clutched desperately at the man’s grip around his neck.

Tears. Tears.

He’s crying. You’re killing him.

He was a traitor!!

He’s a child!

He was standing between Ganondorf and victory!

Hemisi won’t forgive you for killing him.

Hemisi had to learn how to handle the cruelty of the world. This boy was a traitor to her as well as him.

You love him too.

Ganondorf’s grip tightened. Link’s struggling grew weaker.

The Gerudo king let out a shaky exhale, letting his fingers relax a little, other hand reaching up to grip the boy’s tunic instead as he finally released his throat. Link rasped, a wretched, unhealthy sound, and Ganondorf felt his stomach churn, remembering when the boy had sand fever and he’d cared for him.

Look what you did.

He deserved it! The boy was an enemy!

Ganondorf grit his teeth, letting magic surge through his arm. It hardened, crystallizing around the child, leaving Link floating in an amber prison within seconds. The boy tried to cling to consciousness, hands desperately pressed against his cage, exhaustion evident, emotions raw. He leaned his head against the amber, and Ganondorf’s hand hovered over his forehead, touching cool, magical stone instead of soft, bloody skin.

He needed to calm down. He couldn’t kill Link. If nothing else, it could make the Triforce of Courage disappear entirely.

The boy’s screams still echoed in his head, despite the silence from him now. He doubted Link could make a sound through his damaged throat. His breaths came in high pitched gasps, alarming some part of his mind that told him his breathing could get worse.

Ganondorf shook his head. He couldn’t stay in here. He walked away, leaving Link’s fate to the goddess who cursed him with her grace. If the boy was still alive when he returned, cooler heads would prevail. Perhaps Ganondorf would clean him up and heal him then.

Perhaps.

XXX

Impa barely listened as the officers around her bickered.

Their loss was catastrophic in nearly every way. The majority of their battles up to this point had been skirmishes, aside from siege on the Wastelands and the Battle of Hyrule Field. It had been a back and forth between the warring factions, monster camps taking military bases, Hyrule soldiers tracking down Gerudo pockets. But this…

To attack the lands of the Mountains and Forests of peace, the seat of power for the sages and the land of the forgotten temple where the Master Sword had been rediscovered, was to attack the soul of Hyrule. Ganondorf had been very precise in this battle, and he’d brought all his power and soldiers with him. The Sage of Lightning had been killed, and—

Orik.

The chief of the Sheikah felt her heart clench at the thought of her youngest brethren in war. She’d tried, as best she could, to look after the young man ever since he’d passed his trials – he was the youngest ever to do so, and it made her worry, despite knowing that he’d earned the right and had no need to be coddled. Nevertheless, as his chief, he was her responsibility as much as anyone else.

Link had stepped up in every way possible, and had even been chosen by the goddesses to truly deserve the Hylian name his mother had given him. He’d helped Impa fight for Zelda during the coup to overthrow King Ozen. He was one of Hyrule’s best soldiers.

And now, he’d been captured.

The Hyrulian army was in a frenzy. They’d lost a sage and the Hero. They’d lost their sacred grounds, watching the sacrilege of Gerudo banners lay claim to the land after their leader had desecrated their most sacred relic.

And Link held a piece of it.

Impa’s heart thrummed in her chest. Ganondorf will kill him to claim it. If he hasn’t already.

She couldn’t just sit on this. They couldn’t limp away and lick their wounds and prepare for an entirely new battle. They had to act quickly.

But the officers were too busy panicking, bickering. She listened halfheartedly, mind buzzing and clouded at the same time, before she bit her tongue to help her focus. Their soldiers were still trying to recover, having retreated to the fortress near the Lost Woods. She’d sent word to the capital to ensure that Castle Town was fortified, as Ganondorf’s forces were closer than ever to try another assault.

They couldn’t sit on this failure. They had to retaliate.

But they needed more soldiers for a full-frontal assault. Her Sheikah warriors had been nearly cut in half due to the coup – there were still many who were injured and some who were imprisoned and had yet declared their loyalty to Zelda over Ozen. General Enos’ army had been fairly depleted form this fight. House Serenne could perhaps loan their personal militia as this was their territory, foolishly given to them by the former king. While Serenne looked out for its own agendas, this was a matter of survival. Impa vaguely heard the general speak as much, claiming to send word to them. It could take a day or two to get a response and organize a counterattack.

Impa finally interjected the inane babbling in the war tent. “We don’t have time. We don’t have time for any of this. We need to attack their camp now.”

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” the general asked, frustrated. “We hardly have the men.”

Impa bit her lip. “Retaking the land is the ultimate goal, but it shouldn’t be our priority right now. Link holds both the Master Sword and the Triforce of Courage. Our focus should be on getting him back before they can kill him or extricate him.”

The other officers murmured worriedly, an anxious energy filling the air.

“I can gather my people to infiltrate the camp,” Impa continued. “But we’ll need a distraction.”

The general’s brow lowered heavily over his eyes. “You’re suggesting we use my troops as bait.”

Impa met his gaze, face stony. What other options did they have? There was no time to gather a larger force. “I am. But we just need to rescue the Hero. With that as our objective, we can retreat as soon as we have him.”

Hopefully too many won’t die, she implied.

General Enos sighed heavily. “Gather your forces, then. We will attack at dusk. The cover of nightfall should help. I will send someone to contact House Serenne for reinforcements in the larger assault. In the meantime, we’ll wait for word from Queen Zelda.”

Impa nodded, leaving the tent. Hang in there, Link. We’re coming.

XXX

Ganondorf had to admit, he’d definitely been finding reasons to avoid the tent. However, they were valid reasons. He had to ensure that they held this territory – he’d attacked Hyrule’s most sacred land in the hopes that it would reveal the location of the other two Triforce pieces, and it had certainly done that. But now he had to hold this land, both to potentially find the Triforce of Wisdom and to rub it into Hyrule’s face. Such a victory was hugely impactful, and it could break the enemy’s spirit entirely, especially given that its new ruler was so young and inexperienced.

But after twenty-four hours of taking tally of the casualties, making plans to fortify their stronghold, and looking at maps to see where they should investigate and attack next, he could no longer avoid visiting the makeshift prison cell he’d created.

He’d given himself time to calm down, at least, and the distractions had helped. He still wasn’t happy with Link – the boy was actively in defiance of him, refusing to give him the Triforce of Courage. He wondered if killing him would extract it, or if it would simply make it move to another location. He couldn’t risk losing the sacred relic, and…

He wasn’t ready to go that far yet. Not… not yet.

He still had to clean the boy up and heal him. Mostly. He would send him back to Lagema where Hyrule’s forces couldn’t reach him, where the boy had no chance of escaping. And perhaps he’d eventually come to his senses, but Ganondorf wasn’t really holding out hope. It was foolish to assume such a thing would happen, even if his heart ached for it.

A pity, really.

The Gerudo king’s walk back to the tent was interrupted, however, when there was a cry from one of the sentries. “Enemies spotted to the south!”

Ganondorf immediately changed directions, moving towards the guard’s post to see what she was talking about. It was a fairly large group, seemingly the remainder of the army they’d encountered yesterday. He hadn’t expected a counterattack so quickly, not after they’d retreated as they had.

“Send the beasts,” he ordered. The monsters could handle the first wave – his women were recovering as well. This would thin the enemy’s numbers first.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He had a bad feeling about this.

On the other end of the Gerudo camp, ten Sheikah snuck in through the shadows, quickly killing the guards in the area. Impa motioned silently, ordering her brethren to fan out, and they spread across the camp while the majority of its inhabitants lined the southern border.

Impa moved towards the center of the camp, figuring Link would be somewhere well guarded, but saw no structures that might indicate a prison of sorts. When she found the largest tent in a cluster, she peeked inside and gasped.

Link was there, floating in an amber magical crystal prison. His head was drooping, brow slightly furrowed in pain, shadows across his face even in the glowing light. His green tunic was stained with blood and dirt, right leg bent the wrong way, brown trousers darker than they should be, saturated with blood and heaven only knew what else. His hair was matted, colored like an artist’s palette where light gold and crimson mixed together, patches of blood clot and dirt holding clumps of hair hostage.

Goddesses.

Impa rushed forward, tracing her hands along the smooth crystal, wondering how in the world she was supposed to release him. She pulled out a knife first, whispering his name desperately as she slammed against his prison. The knife was getting her nowhere, though, and she knew she’d have to use magic to break through. Link didn’t budge, limp in midair.

Thankfully, all Sheikah knew magic, and she focused hers to her hands, pressing her palms to the amber. Although her magic was hardly ever used for brute force, she could connect it enough with the magic encasing him that it started to crack. She heard some noise outside and overhead, and she whirled around as the crystal continued to fracture, armed and ready for a fight. When no one entered the tent, she listened closer and realized it was beginning to rain.

Good. That would help cover their escape. It would make sending off the signal difficult, though.

When Impa returned her attention to the amber in the center, it was falling to pieces, chunks of crystal dissipating into the air, until she could reach in and grab the young warrior. The prison faded immediately as soon as she pulled him to her, and his full weight bore down on her. Impa drew him close, trying to support the dead weight by bringing his center of gravity to hers, but she still stumbled as she held him to her chest.

“Link,” she whispered, strained and desperate and scared for him.

The teenager groaned in reply, hissing when his right leg scraped against the ground. Impa knelt down, lowering them both to the earth so she could rearrange him a little, slinging an arm over her shoulders. He flinched and almost cried out until she slammed her palm over his mouth to muffle the sound.

“I’m getting you out of here,” she told him softly, gently, as reassuringly as she could, heart breaking for the kid. She braced herself and stood once more. Link, addled as he was, tried to put some weight on his good leg, and she was grateful for it. “You must stay quiet. Understood?”

Across camp, Ganondorf picked up his pace as he listened to battle break out in the open field. Rain started to pelt against him before it became a steady downpour, decreasing visibility. This attack was so abrupt, and it didn’t seem like they had the numbers for an assault like this. It was either utter desperation, or…

He had to move quickly.

When he reached his tent, he got as far as opening the flap to enter when he saw the empty space in the center. His heart felt it stopped a moment, cold ice filling his veins, and he snarled, drawing his swords and prowling the surrounding area as he alerted his troops. They couldn’t have gotten far.

A few rows of tents away, Impa dragged Link as best she could, her grunts of exertion covered by the torrential rain. Link had tried his best to assist, but he was mostly dead weight hanging off her. He was spending all his energy gritting his teeth and trying not to make a sound as his broken leg was scuffed along the earth and stones. Impa just needed to get somewhere they could pause and she could concentrate long enough to get them out of there. Then she could worry about sending the signal to everyone.

Ganondorf’s voice echoed across the way, disappearing in a peal of thunder. Impa froze nonetheless, swearing she heard something, heart skipping a beat. Her breath quickened, and she tried to move faster.

The Gerudo king rounded another corner, and the opposing combatants froze as their eyes met.

“Link, hold on to me,” Impa ordered breathlessly, standing her ground. Ganondorf charged, a snarl on his lips, blades at the ready. The young Sheikah moved feebly, and she repeated, more frantically, “Link, hold on to me!”

She felt him put enough weight on her with a trembling grip that she could release him and focus her energy and magic. Ganondorf was ten paces away and closing, hunger and rage in his eyes, and he moved in to strike.

Her body warmed despite the frigid rain and her adrenaline. Link moved abruptly, throwing her off for a second, and Ganondorf flinched a moment as a kunai sliced his cheek open. It didn’t quite stop his attack, but it did make him stutter a moment, surprised and confused and realizing—

Link glared at him, balefulness painted in every aspect of his face, hand still thrust outward from the toss that could have taken out an eye if he’d aimed better. The shock of the move didn’t last long, and Ganondorf was on them in an instant, massive swords held over his head as if to crush them.

Impa finally had enough energy summoned, and she and Link vanished in a heartbeat as the Gerudo’s blades sank into the earth.

His battle cry echoed in the air, absorbed in the rain like water to a sponge. Ganondorf didn’t move for a long while, and the downpour was deafening.

XXX

It was honestly a near miracle that everything had worked out as it had.

Once the signal from the Sheikah chief had been fired into the air, the remainder of her task force and the Hyrulian army retreated before being reinforced by House Serenne’s militia. Queen Zelda herself also sent more troops from Castle Town, leaving the capital’s defenses unnervingly thin, but that changed when the Hero was escorted back there to recover.

Zelda found herself wandering one of the many castle halls that had been converted into a hospital area, trying to help out as best she could. She didn’t have the time she did when she was a princess, but she still tried to assist the overworked healers. She hated to hear the moans of the dying and injured, but she’d started to grow accustomed to it.

When she didn’t see the Hero anywhere, though, she started searching other areas for him.

She eventually found him sitting on a cut down tree at the edge of the city, its base large enough to fit three Hylians. He stared off at the sunset, his back to her, posture slumped, hair a disheveled mess. She could see the tears in his clothing, and she grew worried as she moved faster to reach him.

“Link,” Zelda called gently, walking into his periphery. He didn’t bother acknowledging her at first, and so she hesitantly sat beside him. “You shouldn’t be out here. They said you were hurt pretty badly. Let me take you back to the castle, okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied quietly, glancing down at his hands. “I drank a potion. They patched me up on the way to the capital, anyway.”

To emphasize his point, he played with the empty bottle in his hands, and then gave her a halfhearted smile. His face was still bloody, exhaustion etched into every corner of his being, emphasized by the lines under his eyes. Zelda had never seen him in such a state, and it frankly left her so unsettled that for a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

“You still need to rest,” she tried to insist, not entirely used to him ignoring her.

Link said nothing for a long time, the air around them stilling. Then he said, softly, “I’m sorry you had to fight your father for the throne.”

Zelda blinked, a little caught off guard, wondering why this was being brought up. Was he going to mention how she’d cried that night?

Wait. She… she remembered seeing him with the Gerudo delegation often before the war.

“Not that he didn’t deserve it,” Link continued with a dark huff of a laugh. “He was a terrible king and a terrible man. But… I’m sorry you had to overthrow him, to…”

Her friend swallowed, face hardening, glaring into the sunset, its light reflecting fire in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated before putting the bottle down between them and patting her on the shoulder. He rose, walking to the western end of camp, his silhouette cutting into the dusk’s light, shadow growing ever longer. Zelda watched him go uncertainly, heart aching at her own confrontation and what she was beginning to assume must have happened when he’d been captured.

Link moved in silence, ignoring the world around him, until he reached the basins of water where he could wash his face. Some sanitary supplies were nearby, and he wordlessly rinsed the blood and dirt away. He paused when he grabbed a shaving foam, staring at it and the razor beside it.

The area was deserted. The Hero stood alone in the center, eyes fixed on the shaving supplies. And then he burst into tears, burying his face in his left hand, Farore’s blessing dully shining through the blood that dripped off his knuckles.

[shegetsburned]

hands hands hands hands hands hands hands

[pealeii]

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