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notsodailycake · 3 days ago

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Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

#mecha pilot jazz au #oh god I'm so nervous about this one #i hope yall like it #and plz plz share whatever thoughts you have on this (as long as they're positive ofc bc my ego is very fragile YwY)#cake writed #yeah that's a tag now #cakes art #transformers #tf jazz #tf prowl #jazzprowl

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pretzel-box · 3 months ago

Note

woe, Reverse AU angst be upon ye (not necessarily a request, just a thought i had, but if anything strikes feel free to go ham :3 i also like to think about this with the og universe because i love feeling emotional pain 🧘🏾)

but instead of the reader having a classified file for themselves (& having it for sale), there are videotapes (or maybe different colored pendrives? CDs work too, i guess!!) scattered across the abandoned offices, and at first Sebastian isn't sure what to do with them, but then he meets p.ai.nter and they recognize those immediately, questioning why Sebastian is carrying that stuff with him in a concerned tone, and Sebastian just stares at the computer like, "??? okay, what's up with it?"

p.ai.nter is hesitant to show him what those hide at first, but eventually agrees to let him watch, then warns him that he is not going to like any second of it

Sebastian gets comfortable in front of the screen but is only greeted with an extremely heartbreaking scene– it's (now an experiment) reader visibly shaking as they stare in horror at their new body, unable to speak in any way while sobbing and whimpering, hugging themselves (or maybe their tail? guess it depends on the way readers want to look) and wondering what they had done to deserve this outcome, to be stripped of their humanity

now i personally like to think that the reader struggling to speak is something that comes with their body being altered, like everything is big so they're not used to any of it so really all they can do is cry and struggle to say a coherent sentence because it sounds like a garbled mess, but that is also me wanting to add salt to the wound because this is supposed to be sad ooooo ⚡⚡

anyway, at the end of it all (cause there was more than one video, a whole documentary on reader and the experiments done on them), Sebastian is left feeling too many emotions and he doesn't even know when he started crying but he is (since the reader he knows now is different from the one he just saw in the videos but deep down it hurts so much because that is the same person in different years of their life) and p.ai.nter isn't sure how to comfort him so they keep apologizing till Sebastian finally chooses to leave

next time he stops by reader's shop he can't even bring himself to stare at them properly because he's afraid he'll start bawling his eyes out, meanwhile, reader is just staring at him like ":3? no snarky comments or banter today wow what happened to him" unaware that he has seen The Horrors

that's all thanks for coming to my tedtalk

Authors Note: This is inspired by this request but not 1:1 written like it. This is pure angst and some gore. READ AT OWN RISK.

Tags: GORE, Angst, Reversed AU, mentions of syringes, drugs and operations.

Words: 2,7k

The sound of a click filled the room, followed by the small red light blinking on the video camera, indicating it was recording. Sebastian glanced at you with irritation as you held the camera—a little relic you'd scavenged from a deeper part of the facility—not too long ago. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of the leather jacket you had once sold him.

"And we are live!~ Say hello to the viewers, Seb!" you teased, shoving the camera playfully in his face. He immediately pushed it away with his hand, his scowl deepening.

"I get it, I get it," he grumbled, pointing at the camera with a mock glare. "You found a new toy. Now what? You planning to make a movie or something?"

You shot him a sharp look, the room growing colder as if you were subtly irritated by his comment. Sebastian could sense he'd hit a nerve, a rare feat considering your usual carefree attitude. But then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach and flashing him the signature grin that always greeted him when he came to your shop.

"I’ve already starred in plenty,” you replied cryptically, your words hanging in the air with an eerie undertone. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but you cut him off with another sly comment. “Maybe you’re the next big star, Solace.”

After leaving your shop, Sebastian wandered through the halls of the Hadal Blackside facility, the encounter with you replaying in his mind. He’d grown to enjoy your company—your banter, your teasing, the way you challenged him. But today, something about your behavior felt off. Beneath the jokes and sarcasm, there was something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And that unsettled him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

How could he be in a relationship with someone so different, so complex? You were like a puzzle with missing pieces, a riddle that refused to be solved. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him. His legs carried him on autopilot through the winding corridors, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

It wasn’t until he found himself in the office segment of the building that he realized he’d been walking without really paying attention. His hand hovered over the keycard reader, and it struck him that he hadn’t even looked for the blue plastic card he needed to get through the next door. The desk was a mess of papers, ink, and tapes.

His eyes fell on an old, unlabeled tape, the kind they'd used for surveillance back in the day. Scrawled on it in red ink was a series of numbers: *Z-13.* The sight of it piqued his curiosity, a nagging feeling that it was significant. Without thinking, he slipped it into his pocket. He’d find a way to watch it later.

Sebastian rummaged through countless drawers, lockers, and cabinets, searching for the keycard, but instead, he kept finding more of those mysterious tapes. Each one seemed older than the last, covered in dust and marked with strange codes.

His practical side told him he should probably look through all of them, not just the one he had picked up. So, he gathered them into a makeshift box he'd found lying around and continued his search for the keycard, all the while wondering what secrets these tapes might hold—and what they had to do with you. He know the Name Z-13 was related to you.

If there was anything he knew for sure, it was that you were full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe, these tapes would help him understand you a little better.

By pure coincidence, Sebastian ran into P.AI.nter a while later as he continued through the seemingly endless corridors of the facility, taking casual steps despite the weight of the wonky box filled with random tapes he was carrying. The AI's sketched face flickered to life, its eyes narrowing with a curious gaze. "Quite the haul today, Sebastian," it remarked, its voice tinged with artificial cheerfulness. "Planning to deliver all of that to our trusty shopkeeper?"

Sebastian grunted in response, setting the box down on the floor with a thud. He raised his hands above his head, stretching to relieve the ache that had settled in his shoulders from lugging the heavy box around. "Can you play them?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. It was a simple question, and he knew the answer even as he asked it—of course P.AI.nter could play a few tapes.

But as soon as the question left his lips, the room fell into an uneasy silence. P.AI.nter’s usual cheerful demeanor seemed to shift, its sketched form glitching for a moment as if processing something more than just data. The AI stared at Sebastian and the tapes, an uncharacteristic hesitation creeping into its expression.

"It's just a tape, Sebastian," P.AI.nter finally replied, its voice flat, devoid of its usual light-heartedness. There was something in the way it spoke—something guarded, almost cautious—that only fueled Sebastian's curiosity further. The AI’s reluctance was like gasoline on a fire.

“A tape I want to watch,” Sebastian shot back, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of the evasiveness, the constant roadblocks whenever he sought answers. He moved with purpose, selecting one of the tapes and sliding it into the nearest recorder, right next to P.AI.nter’s screen.

“I have to warn you, Sebastian,” P.AI.nter said, its tone shifting to something closer to pleading. The air between them grew heavy, the tension thickening as the tape began to whirl in the machine. Sebastian paused, the gravity of the AI's words weighing on him.

"You won’t like any second of it," P.AI.nter added, its voice barely more than a whisper. There was a finality in its tone, a sense of foreboding that hung in the air like a storm about to break. The familiar face of his AI friend got replaced by some white noise and then a black screen.

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the screen flicker to life, unsure of what he was about to see but certain of one thing: whatever was on these tapes, it was something the facility—and P.AI.nter—wanted to keep hidden.

“Hellooo! I'm one of the new researchers here at the Hadal Blackside. I'm recording Tape Nr. XXXX in Containment Cell XXXX. Wish me luck!”

Sebastian watched as a cheerful person appeared on the screen, holding a camera up to their face. Excitement radiated from their eyes, and despite the poor quality of the footage, their energy was infectious. Some of the information on the screen glitched out, redacting key details as if the tape had deliberately scrambled those moments, keeping certain things obscured.

The person on the screen shifted their stance, and the camera followed their movement. “This is a video for my friend who was super excited to hear about my job. I totally stole the camera for this, so shhh, we can't get caught,” they whispered conspiratorially, a playful grin spreading across their face. There was something unsettling about their carefree demeanor, yet Sebastian couldn't help but feel a small flicker of amusement. The tape felt like a low-quality YouTube vlog, reminiscent of simpler times, with this familiar-looking worker goofing off for the amusement of a friend.

“They told me this is super secret stuff,” the voice continued, the lens panning around the containment cell. “But I just have to show you this.”

The video abruptly cut to another segment, the view shifting to reveal a massive anglerfish-like entity lurking behind an enormous glass wall. The waters it swam in were inky black, like thick oil, giving the creature an unsettling and eerie aura as it moved in the dark liquid.

“Isn't it cool?” the person behind the camera asked with an almost childlike wonder, pressing their flat hand against the glass. “They’re hiding this here! They do some voodoo fish shit in this facility. Even the human centipede would turn pale in envy.”

Sebastian froze as he watched the footage. The creature behind the glass was terrifying—a monstrous anglerfish, its grotesque form barely discernible in the murky waters. It was an unsettling sight, made even more disturbing by the fact that this reckless researcher was standing mere inches from one of the most dangerous entities imaginable, their tone light and casual as if they were commenting on the weather.

A chill ran down Sebastian’s spine as he continued to watch the video, his breath caught in his throat. The footage shifted again, but the image of the monstrous fish remained burned into his mind. His gut twisted with unease. What was this person thinking, standing so close to something so deadly? And why did they seem so familiar?

As the old tape continued to play, the weight of the discovery settled on Sebastian’s shoulders like a heavy boulder. Whatever secrets were buried in these tapes, he was certain they weren’t meant to be uncovered—especially not by him. Yet here he was, staring at a reality that seemed more and more like a nightmare. The things he saw so far in the blackside were not as terrifying as this giant monster that rested behind that glass wall.

The tape ended abruptly, and for a moment, there was only silence. Sebastian’s hands trembled as he reached down to turn the cassette over, the worn edges rough against his fingertips. He knew there were at least four more tapes waiting in the box at his feet, each one a potential gateway to another nightmare. His breath caught in his throat, a cold sweat forming on his brow. Still, his curiosity and a gnawing need for answers compelled him to continue.

With a shaky breath, he pressed the tape back into the player, flipping it to the other side. The screen flickered to life again, this time showing a cold, sterile operating room. Several figures in hazmat suits moved with practiced precision, their faces obscured by masks and goggles. The room was pristine, a stark contrast to the horror Sebastian knew was about to unfold.

“This is Experiment Nr. XXXX,” a calm, clinical voice narrated. “And our newest trial patient, Z-13, who volunteered for their transformation.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he recognized the person strapped to the operating chair—the same person from the earlier footage. They were bound tightly, their limbs secured as though they were a dangerous criminal. There was no mistaking the fear and confusion in their eyes, even through the drug-induced haze.

“Z-13 was administered XXXX, XXXX, and XXXX 20 minutes prior to the start of this procedure,” the voice continued with an unsettling detachment. “Their pupils are dilated, and the patient has entered a state of delirium, necessary for the next phase of the experiment.”

The camera zoomed in on the bound figure, their eyes bloodshot and unnaturally wide, darting around the room in a frantic, unfocused search for something familiar. Sebastian felt his stomach churn with a sickening realization—this was no volunteer. This was a person trapped, forced into an unimaginable horror. The idea of volunteering was just another lie, a thin veneer over a darker truth.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into his knees as he watched, his body tense with dread. He knew what was coming next, but the tape did not shy away from the gruesome details. The hours that followed were a blur of pain and suffering, each tape more harrowing than the last. Scenes of torn flesh and oily blood filled the screen, detached limbs falling to the sterile floor with sickening thuds. Each cut, each scream was more unbearable than the last. And those eyes—those haunted, slowly awakening eyes—followed Sebastian throughout each frame, pleading silently for mercy.

With each passing minute, it became painfully clear that the drugs were losing its effectiveness and the person that was tied to the chair gained the ability to feel every single thing that happened there. The delirium ended and the terror began.

The scream tore through the speakers with such intensity that Sebastian flinched. It wasn’t just a scream—it was a raw, visceral sound, a guttural cry filled with a mix of agony, fear, and desperation. It was a sound so primal that it clawed its way into his very bones, settling there with an uncomfortable weight. It was the worst thing he had heard in ages. Every nerve in his body screamed in empathy for the poor soul on the screen, the person whose existence had been reduced to nothing but a vessel for pain.

“Silence them,” a cold, emotionless voice commanded from off-screen.

Almost immediately, a set of cruel, metal clamps were forcefully shoved into the patient's mouth, prying it open with a brutality that made Sebastian wince. These were the kind of instruments used for people with severe jaw fractures, designed to immobilize and inflict pain to prevent further injury. But here, they were used as a tool of torture, a means to quiet the suffering that had become too loud for the facility’s sterile walls. The rough, unyielding metal dug into their flesh, tearing into the soft tissue of their mouth, blood trickling down their chin. The sight was gruesome, and Sebastian could feel his stomach twist with disgust.

The person’s screams were abruptly cut off, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. They were left to suffer in silence, their jaw now clamped shut, the metal rods cruelly keeping it from moving even a fraction. Tears streamed down their face, their eyes wide with terror and pain, every muscle in their body taut with agony.

And just when Sebastian thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the camera shifted. The surgeon, clad in a sterile suit that seemed to mock the very concept of humanity, moved over the patient's eyes. Those eyes—once filled with life, now wide with shock, pain, and a frantic, animalistic fear—darted around in sheer terror. They were crying frantically, tears mingling with the blood on their face.

“We will now begin our final part,” the disembodied voice continued with a chilling detachment. “Removal of the natural human eyes to replace them with XXXX using XXXX and XXXX. The expected results will lead to an ability to see underwater.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a gloved hand reach for a long, thin needle, the metal glinting ominously under the harsh, fluorescent lights. The needle was positioned directly over the patient's eye, the sharp tip hovering just above the delicate orb. Their wide, terrified gaze seemed to plead with the unseen surgeons, with the camera, with anyone who might be watching—to stop, to help, to do something.

But there was no help. There was no mercy.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then, mercifully, the tape cut to black. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sound the low hum of the equipment around him. Sebastian sat frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with the horrific images he had just witnessed. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, the tension radiating through his entire body.

He was left alone in the darkness, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. The horror of what he had seen, of what had been done to someone who had likely never asked for any of this, crashed over him.

Then P.AI.nters face greeted him on the screen.

“They first drugged them, then they put in a row of ocean animal dna into their body.”

He was pointing out the steps that the surgeons did in the tape.

“They cut off their fingers, waiting for them to grow back. They took of the part from the knees to the feet…and then they noticed that it wasn't enough.”

Sebastian raised his hands, to put them over his ears.

“They lost both their healthy legs. Next was their ears, they cut it off. And then…they silenced them by closing their jaw.”

He could still hear P.AI.nter.

“And then they lost their eyes. The transformation from the human self to…the thing they are now…took 7 weeks. They attached and deattached plenty of stuff on them.”

For a moment he felt the urge to shut P.AI.nter off for good.

“Our shopkeeper went through much, don't you think?”

A loud sound filled the room and then there was darkness.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace fanfic #roblox pressure #pressure #tw:gore #tw:syringe

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whiteraven90 · 2 months ago

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Your take on griffins is so cool 👀 Do you have worldbuilding notes somewhere? Like what their dynamic is with humans, or what their habitats and habits usually are? I’d love to know more about them!

Hey, thanks for asking! I actually had written a little species description for them, but I shelved it until I draw illustrations for it. However I might as well post it now with less relevant pictures. Who knows when would I get around to drawing those illustrations. First of all... there are no gryphons on Tetra. No mortal ones, just spirits.

Spirits were created by the gods to be sentient blueprints for species. Flora & fauna were created out of chosen spirits (e.g. polar bear, barn owl), and the leftovers were repurposed (e.g. great horned gryphon, common pegasus).

In addition to the whole range of shapes/forms spirits were designed to take as part of nature, they also had their would-be behavioral patterns pre-set into them. So now lets see how the Great Horned Gryphons would have lived!

Great horned gryphons (also simply referred to as 'griffins' from now on) are sexually dimorphic, and live in pairs. They are very resource-conscious - individuals not raised properly may hunt their food sources to extinction, after which they either starve to death or get themselves killed while ravaging the animals of other griffins or humans. Each pair oversees a vast territory filled with wild herd animals. They engage in several behaviors that are basically animal husbandry. They will protect their herds from other predators and even natural disasters. They will herd their animals toward quality food. They can recognize juveniles of many species - humans included -, and will not eat them. They sometimes raise the abandoned offspring of other species, not because they plan to eat them, but because they get a kick out of it. They don't hunt, per se. They hit up one of their herds, select a specimen, and carry it home for lunch. They like to construct their nests atop cliffs and similar high points overlooking their territory.

Their relationship with people is complex (and hypothetical, as is everything else), since people may want to claim the same lands for the same purposes. But typically if they saw a lone human child, just waltzing around on their territory, they'd pick it up and put it down near adult humans. Solitary adult people tend to be safe as well for different reasons. The staple of griffins is large animals, and they like to conserve their energy. Normally they won't get up for 1 lone human nugget.

If an adult pair spots an unrelated juvenile griffin on their turf, they leave it alone, but they don't tolerate mature trespassers or other pairs. They are hostile to all other species of gryphon. Given the opportunity, they will kill and eat them. Great horned gryphons are viviparous and give birth to 1 chick at a time which stays with the parents for several years to learn some manners. Mostly moderation, recognizing important animal species, and caring for their animals. Their lifespan is 40-70 years.

And that's more or less it. At present, great horned gryphons are not plural. There's just one spirit, Griffin, representing the whole species, either until the heat death of the universe or until he bites the dust. Spirits are shapeshifters with a range of native forms as opposed to one original form. They have some rules among them on etiquette, such as when is it ok to take the form of another spirit. Griffin mostly uses his adult male form, and lets Phoenix take his adult female one.

Several of his species' characteristics can be felt in his personality - excels at relaxing, hard to anger or scare, won't hurt kids or pets and is good with them, extraverted, resource-conscious, enjoys having vast lands. His relationship with humans is... complicated. Nowadays he kinda pretends to be a pet at the palace of the emperor of the Karkian Empire, and is banned from or unwelcome in several other countries. Sorcerers summon him sometimes, but the jolly fucker usually charges by the hour for his spirit-y services, and may even screw the summoners over if he doesn't like them.

#whiteraven90 #whiteraventxt #Tetra #Griffin #great horned gryphon #worldbuilding

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lxkeee · 10 months ago

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Hi!! I absolutely adore/love your works!🥰💕 Also if you do accept a request can you do platonic with reader as the second child of Lucifer and Lilith!

If your requests are closed you can just ignore this and have a good day/night!😁

TO-DO LIST

—Father! Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter! Reader [Platonic]

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Synopsis: Lucifer promised himself to do better, making a to-do list to keep track of what he needed to work on. Including mending his broken relationship with his second daughter.

Notes: will be making a male version of this later.

Additional Notes: anon didn't specify what scenario it is so I just winged it and made up a scenario of my own.

Progress, sure it's slow but progress is progress no matter what the speed of the process is. Lucifer sighs softly to himself, his right hand holding a fountain pen and his left holding a notepad. Moving his hand as he fluidly crossed out something from the paper.

Organize my room. Done.

He smiled proudly at himself, admiring his work. His bedroom is now neat and tidy, the pile of rubber duckies are now stored away properly. Some are used as decorations but the others were hidden somewhere. He made sure to display his proudest creations, such as the backflipping and fire breathing rubber duckie he recently just made.

He promised himself and Charlie that he'll be better. He thanked himself for allowing himself to visit his daughter's hotel. There, he was able to reconnect with her.

His eyes became heavy as his gaze landed on the very last goal he wanted to achieve. Reconnect with [y/n].

Reconnecting with Charlie was easy as the girl was like an exact copy of him. [Y/n] on the other hand is the copy of Lilith, his ex-wife.

Sure, she has his qualities but personality wise. Lilith.

He and [y/n] stopped communicating with one another after he and Lilith split. Guilt. He felt guilty.

He avoided his second daughter as she reminded him so much of her mother.

It's not [y/n]'s fault, nor is it his. He was just grieving, grieving over a love that lasted for so long and suddenly fell apart.

He couldn't process it properly and hurt his daughters in the process.

He doesn't even know what [y/n] is up to lately. Last he remembered is that she took over some things around the kingdom as he was quite useless during these past seven years.

What a shitty father he is. He couldn't protect his daughter. He wonders how much his daughter is going through by temporarily taking his place for the meantime. He could just imagine those filthy sinners looking at her with those disgusting eyes. The harsh words, the objectification.

He just wants to shelter and adore both of his daughters, okay?

Lucifer sighs softly, hand gripping the notepad.

He wants to reconnect so badly but he's being too much of a coward.

He doesn't want to admit it but he's doing all of these tasks because he's prolonging the inevitable of talking to [y/n].

Running away like he always does.

Before he could self destruct like he always does when facing a problem, he could remember Charlie's words, “Healing takes time and you shouldn't rush things if you're not ready. Take one step at a time.”

Lucifer calms down, right. Take my time. I should use this to think about what I should say to her.

Progress, just like Charlie has said.

Slowly and surely, goals that were written down are crossed out one by one.

It took a few weeks at most but he's finally done. Taking out his pen and crossing something out of the notepad.

Try to understand sinners. Done.

His eyes landed on his final goal. Reconnect with [y/n].

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his fast beating heart. He's nervous, that's an understatement because he is downright terrified.

Finally picking up his phone, tapping on to the screen to look for his contacts.

Finally seeing [y/n]'s contact, her profile a rubber duck version of her that he had made.

Taking a deep breath, trying to remember what he planned to say. Finally, his fingers hit the call button.

Ringing. It's ringing.

His fingers taps along the table of his office nervously, waiting for her to accept his call.

“Father...?” [y/n] answers hesitantly from the other line and his heart almost leaped out of his chest. He cringed a little, after his relationship with his second daughter fell apart. She started calling him father instead of dad. Which sounded way too formal for his liking.

Taking a deep breath, he needs this to be perfect.

“Hey sweetie... I am just calling because I am wondering how you have been?” he says, stuttering a little.

The other line went silent for a few moments before she answered, “Are you okay? This has been the first time you've called me in the last... 5 years. Do you need something father?”

He could practically hear doubts in her voice, imagining that she's raising an eyebrow at him at the moment.

“Are you busy at the moment...?” he asked softly and he could hear the deep sigh from the other line, he could practically hear the disappointment from the sigh she let out.

She probably thought he only called her for a favor. What a bad father he is, really.

“Not at the moment, why?”she asked.

“Can I visit?” he asked hesitantly and the line went silent once more.

“Why...?” she asked, he flinches from the question.

“Can't I visit my daughter now?” he asked, jokingly. He can practically imagine her deadpanning at him.

“Surprised to hear you still call me your daughter, I'm sure I didn't feel it for the last seven ish years.”

He flinches, yeah. He hurt her a lot.

“I know [y/n]... I was a horrible father to you and you didn't deserve that treatment but... I want to be better. For you and Charlie... So please? Can I see you...?” he pleaded softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could hear her breath hitched from the other line, followed by a sigh.

“Alright, fine. You can come over.” she says, defeated. No matter what he did, she'll always look for her dad.

The phone call ends and Lucifer takes a deep breath, calming himself before eventually teleporting to the other side of the pride circle, where his daughter's office is located.

He immediately teleported to her office, seeing her working on her desk, typing out on her laptop.

Without giving her time to process, he immediately went to her side. Pulling her up from her seat making her yelp in surprise and hugging her.

“Dad?!” she yelped in surprise, surprised by the warmth her father gave her after seven long years. The male hugged her waist. [Y/n]'s eyes soften as she returns the hug.

“I know I treated you so horribly and I cannot justify my actions. You have been nothing but the best daughter to me and I pushed you away. For that I am sorry, please forgive me.” Lucifer pleaded softly, crying silently against her suit.

“I should've been there for you as you lost your mother but I made it all about me. You had to take over my work while also grieving. I should've been more competent but I pushed all my responsibilities to you and for that I am deeply sorry for hurting you.”

[Y/n] stayed silent, crying silently as she hugged her father. She misses him so much.

“And for that, I hope you know that I am very much proud of you. I love you my dearest princess.” he says softly and it was enough for the girl to finally breakdown, sobbing into her father's shoulders as she kneeled down to reach him. Lucifer held her, holding her body protectively.

“I am grateful that you are my daughter more than anything.” he says, running his hand through her hair. His other hand rubs circles on her back for comfort. “You've grown into such an amazing woman and I am very proud of you. I hope you forgive your father for making you do his work. Don't worry, daddy's here now...” he cooed softly, still holding into the crying girl in his arms. He promised to be better. One step at a time.

General Taglist:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lxkeee answers #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lxkeee updates #lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar

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tarotofhope · 3 months ago

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PAC: Self-Care Tips For Your Own Well Being

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

Pile 1:

Cards: Father Of Wands, The Hermit And Politics- 7 Of Swords.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. Beware of snakes in your own garden. You need to stay away from people who are controlling, manipulating, taking advantage of you, those who are not grateful for you being there for them. It also seems like you're not able to tell good people from bad ones, because of this, you might also sometimes have a wrong judgement of certain people. Your self care tip would be to keep yourself away and safe from people who seem to be your friend/good towards you, but is actually a backbiter. Some may be rude towards you openly as well, people/friends/family who use you or talk to you only when they want something from you and then they leave you, people who always treat you as a second option or a bystander. So, the card 'Politics' which is the '7 of Swords' card in tarot fits well here because people might be playing politics with you, backstabbing you, tricking you and what not. I'm also hearing defame, so, for a few of you, it could be that you're a popular person, famous for your work, and some people whom you consider friends might actually be slandering you behind your back. One advice is, try to observe certain patterns in people's behaviour, try to observe closely and decide for yourself. See, I'm not trying to scare you. It's just what I felt from the cards.

So I wish you good luck. Love, Light, Peace and Hope to you.

Pile 2:

Cards: 6 Of Wands, Ace Of Swords and Morality-Queen Of Swords.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2.

You're someone who is in the process of awakening. Your intuition is at point, you're hunches are mostly correct. You're aware of your body needs, what it likes and what it doesn't, your mind and soul. People might perceive you as awkward, weird or they might also think that you're out of your mind, irrational even, but it is so because you have unique thoughts and ideas. Let them have their own perceptions. You just need to know that you don't need to fit in. Your ideas are gold, don't let others let you down. You just need to keep standing out and fight to remain there. You feel like executing a weird plan/business idea or project, do it. Fight for your passions. Your words, yes, your words have a lot of positive effect(either written or oral), speak them, write them, live them. Fight until you succeed, it's not going to be easy but it's going to be worth all the effort.

So I wish you good luck. Love, light, peace and hope to you.

Pile 3:

Cards: Death, The Emperor and Awareness-The Chariot.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3.

I can see 2 phases here. It's going to be different for everybody. 1st phase is, some beloved one of yours, someone very close to you might have passed away, so you feel like the world has come to eat you, you feel so small, like this is the end of the world but no my dear, let me tell you one thing, only if you allow the universe and open up your heart shall you receive something better. Remember that change is essential no matter how heart breaking or soul wrenching. You need to grow physically, mentally and emotionally. Your life needs a lot more organisation, de-cluttering and changes here and there. Your body is your home, if you don't try to heal yourself, if you resist change, you'll not be able to function properly in the long term. 2nd phase is, you went through a huge glow up, you took care of your body and your mental health. Somehow, you look much better, much healthier, meaning you already went through change and put the required effort. You are much calmer and serene now. If you've gone through this phase, nobody would be able to break you.

So, that was all. I wish you good luck. Love, light, peace and hope to you.

Pile 4:

Cards: 9 Of Wands, The Moon, Breakthrough-Justice.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. It seems like you've got a lot of trust issues, my dear pile 4. You've build a wall around you and you don't let people in. You might be secretive and don't like to expose yourself in the fear that people might harm you or take advantage of you. You might also be very picky and have very few people that are very close to you. This all could be due to a heartbreak for some people while others are like that by nature. Someone here is also rejecting proposals and not giving love a chance. For a few of you, I'm also hearing guilt, you might also carry a guilt within you, it could be a past mistake, a wrong decision, a fault, a lie or anything which had harmed you or anybody else. Forgiveness is necessary, for yourself and others. There is a lack of balance here but you need to know that you will be fine. Not everybody is here to hurt you, so you can open up and as far as guilt is concerned, do things which bring positivity in yours and others' lives. Help people as much as you can. Fill the void. Be that hope for somebody, a helping hand for another and so on.

So, that's all.

I wish you good luck.

Love, light, peace and hope to you.

Pile 5:

Cards: 10 Of Cups Reverse, The Moon, Stress- 7 Of Wands.

Welcome to your reading Pile 5. You seem to want to have everything under your own control, which is not healthy either for you or others. You are either over-protective or very possessive or both. There is a lack of balance. You need to calm down a bit and let go of things because the universe has not burdened only you to take all the responsibilities of yourself and others as well. So, start surrendering things to the universe/God/ whatever power you believe in. It might be like a strong urge to do things by yourself and not taking the help of others. For some of you, this could also be a toxic habit of imposing your way of doing things on others/deciding for others unnecessarily even when not asked for. This pile especially needs to meditate a lot. Looks like you guys have strong leadership qualities which is a really good thing but using authoritative power correctly is very important. Some of you also have a habit of clinging to toxic people/your own possessions, which needs to be changed. I'm getting very maternal/nurturing energy from your pile. Remember it's an energy that I'm talking about which applies to both the genders. You're like mommy/daddy of your friend group. If this is not you then this could be your parent or your guardian. Either way, this habit needs to be controlled and balanced, even if you're the victim of such issues, you need to talk to that other person and create your own healthy boundaries.

So, this was all I got.

I wish you good luck. Love, light, peace and hope to you.

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

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#astrology #divination #spirituality #tarot #pick a card #tarot pick a card #pick a pile #tarot pac #daily tarot #self care

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gogotti · 1 year ago

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Michael Myers/GN! Reader - NSFW

Here we go again with another Michael fic, this time it’s Kinktober and not just me horny posting on main LMFAO

This fic's prompt was Humping

WARNINGS: Michael humps you so nsfw, Michael pins the reader down but reader is into it. This is the tamest thing I’ve written in months so there’s not much else I can add warning wise.

It wasn't often that the massive man who occupied your home needed something from you other than basic necessities, but it was a nightmare trying to figure out when he did. Michael didn't talk and didn't bother trying other ways of communication, so he was basically a brick wall that moved around and routinely demanded food from you. Most days, when he'd decided that he wanted to be difficult, you'd struggle endlessly trying to figure out what he wanted, but this time you tried something different. Your plan was to give him a list of all of the things you could offer him at the moment, and then get him what he needed, simple enough. You went through the entire list, even adding things onto the list that you didn't even want to do, just to not get any response from him. After the second attempt, you didn't even bother anymore, instead staring at him in silence. He still didn't acknowledge you at all, not even by tossing an unopened piece of candy in your face like he normally would have. To say you were confused was an understatement, and you couldn't help but let fear crawl up your spine.

You didn't think he was sad or anything since he wouldn't be sitting on your couch clean if that were the case, and if he were hungry he would have already picked you up from your spot at the other end of the couch and placed you in front of the fridge. You slowly scooched over to him, keeping a safe distance just in case he was in one of his choking moods.

“Michael? You okay?”

Obviously, he didn't respond, and a part of you wanted to go back to your comfy spot and relax again, but you knew whatever his problem was would become a you problem if left alone. You reached out to touch his shoulder and Michael quickly took the opportunity to grab at your wrist and use his strength to twist you around and lay you flat on your stomach. You could only sigh uncomfortably, letting him adjust you to his liking before resting his body weight on you. You couldn’t stop him, you could only let your eyes widen slightly as you felt the source of his problems rest on your ass.

“oh.”

He huffed at you, grabbing your waist and seemingly feeling things out for a while. He didn't make much noise as he did this and only seemed to get impatient since he couldn't properly help himself. You sat in silence for a moment, contemplating whether or not to help him or let his frustration get the better of him, which would most likely end up with someone's dead relative on the news the next moring. You sighed again, you were not going to let innocent people die all because the infamous Michael Myers couldn’t figure out how to hump you properly.

You arched your back, trying to angle yourself into a good position to make things easier for him. You succeeded in this, as the next time Michael grinded against you he let out the shakiest of sighs. You couldn't help but feel accomplished as he quickly found a rhythm; you also couldn't help the fact that with every low groan Michael let out above you, you felt a shock of pleasure hit you where it counts.

He suddenly repositioned, now using one hand to grab onto your hip tightly and the other was placed above your head for stability. He picked up the pace as he humped you, the change in stance now giving him the friction he needed, and you could hear how much he enjoyed it. Low groans, grunts, and occasional growls left his mouth and left you a silent mess. You didn't know he would be so noisy but you couldn't care less, as every sound that spilled from his mouth you happily relished in, letting your mind wander to places you wouldn't have dared think about before this moment.

You felt his humping become sloppy, and listened to his groans turn into huffs as he got closer to cumming. Suddenly, he came crashing down on top of you, his arms now positioned above your head and his body completely engulfing yours, still humping you desperately as he almost silently whimpered at the feeling.

Once he stopped moving, he breathed heavily above you, and you relaxed your body, muscles slightly sore from holding the position for so long. The peace only lasted a short moment before Michael got up, not caring about you resting underneath him. You could only peek at him as he walked to the bathroom, catching a quick glimpse of the dark spot on the sweatpants he was wearing.

You sat up slowly, the only things on your mind at the moment were mentally reviewing everything that happened for fuel on lonesome nights, and the creeping suspicion that this might become a regular occurrence. Either way, the result of either thought didn't bother you. In fact, the thought of the big bad Michael Myers humping you as if his life depended on it was something you quietly hoped for.

#rz michael myers #michael myers #slasher fanfiction #slashers x reader #michael myers x reader #rz halloween #Gogotti’s Kinktober #kinktober

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amaranthineghost · 1 year ago

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ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻

| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairings: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 1

ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp

ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.

ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!

ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.

IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?

he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.

it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.

it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.

he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.

he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.

more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.

he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.

when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.

max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.

when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."

lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.

"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.

"I'm fine."

"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."

"I will."

"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."

lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."

"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.

"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."

he paused, "fix it 'ow?"

lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."

"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"

lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.

"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.

"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.

"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"

"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.

"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"

"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.

"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"

"when we had dinner together."

max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"

"i 'ont know."

"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.

"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.

"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.

"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.

max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"

lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery

he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"

"you truly are a muppet."

"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.

and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.

his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.

he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.

it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.

" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."

it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.

"yeah, I know."

he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.

she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.

so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.

she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.

but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.

she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.

because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.

she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.

she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.

"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."

she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.

so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.

because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.

when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.

she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.

"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.

"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.

"but I was the one who broke you with you."

he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.

" 'nd I was the one who left."

she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.

her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.

his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.

"just don't leave again."

he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.

and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.

his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.

"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.

her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"

he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."

money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.

so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.

she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.

they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.

candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.

they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.

when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.

as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.

his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.

his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.

his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.

he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.

his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.

he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.

he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.

he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.

his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.

the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.

he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.

he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.

vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.

he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.

his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.

he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.

but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.

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backtothefanfiction · 7 months ago

Text

Birthday Celebrations

Summary: Your Birthday party turns a little naughty.

Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), getting naughty in the library

A/N- okay, so I had this idea a while ago and have finally written it. I have not proof read it and could have spent more time working out the Shakespeare quotes thing and making it better but it’s late (nearly 3am) and I just wanted to post this, so here goes. Enjoy.

You, Elspeth and Venetia had been planning this for months now. You were still at uni when Elspeth had called to check in on you one evening and had quickly changed the subject to your upcoming birthday, asking what kind of party you’d like this year. When you told her you wanted a royal soirée complete with princess, princesses, knights and queens, kings and court jesters she was ecstatic. Even more so when you suggested a game as the highlight of the evening. A scavenger hunt around the house- with a twist.

The game would see everyone partnering up and donning masks for the occasion. The couples would each be given their code phrases, a call and response taken from Shakespeare plays. Every couple would have a different play and the men had to hunt around the grounds of the house looking for their perfect match using only the lines of dialogue they had been given. When they found their match the couple could take off their masks and go back to the main hall for the party.

You were of coursed paired with Felix. Your locations, in which you would wait, were chosen out of a hat. You were more than happy when you unfolded your little piece of paper to find you’d be waiting in your favourite room in the house- the library.

You grabbed your mask and took your leave, wrapping the ribbon around the back of your head and tying it into a neat little bow. You hitched up the skirts to your princess dress so you wouldn’t trip over them and carefully made your way up the stairs.

Unsure of how long you’d have to wait until Felix found you, you grabbed one of your favourite books off of one of the shelves and sat yourself down on one of the bench seats in front of the window in hopes you could keep an eye out and at least know if he was in the house or the gardens while you waited.

It was another 10 minutes before the grandfather clocks in the house struck 9, and the game officially began.

After another 10 minutes of waiting your first potential suitor entered through the library doors. Although dressed like royalty, you knew already this wasn’t your Princess, but in the name of the game you both went through the motions.

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,” he said, it was clear that it was one of Lord Louthby’s son, a Thomas, or a James or an Elliot or something, you couldn’t quite remember. They were all rather boring and similar.

Either way, you knew he was not your partner. His starting line had been from A Midsummer Nights Dream, not what you were looking for. You replied with your line from Romeo and Juliet. “The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.” You replied.

“Alas my princess, it seems we are not meant to be.” He smiled before he backed away, but not before he popped his head back around the door to wish you a happy birthday. For which you smiled and thanked him before returning to your book.

The next man through your door, also wasn’t your man, but you’d know this man anywhere regardless. “Ah my dear,” your godfather said as he took you in, “are you having a good time?” He asked, rushing towards you and taking both of your hands in his, earnestly. When everyone in this house knew each other as well as they did, the masks really were arbitrary.

“Yes.” She smiled back at him.

“You wouldn’t have any clue as to where I could find Elspeth do you?” He said conspiratorially.

“Now, that wouldn’t be playing the game properly would it if I just told you where she was.”

“Oh, very well.” He said rolling his eyes, but said his line, “When you depart from me, sorrow abides-“ he said, but once again you didn’t have the rest of his line to finish.

So instead you once again said the incomplete part of your own line, “The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.” You said back.

“My dear,” he James said, raising your fingers to his lips with a kiss, “I do love you, but you know I am not a fan of these games. Promise me next year you won’t make me play.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay, next year we wont play this game again.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, before kissing your knuckles once more. Then he too left.

Then came Farleigh. And then another of Lord Louthby’s sons. Then finally-

He didn’t even check it was you inside as he burst obnoxiously through the library door shouting “My bounty is as boundless as the sea! My love as deep.” He said, clutching at his chest, both hands resting on his heart.

You smiled as you took him in. Neither of you had seen what the other was wearing yet for the evening. He was wearing a costume reminiscent of the one Leonardo DiCaprio wore in the Romeo + Juliet movie. He looked just like a knight, if not a little more comfortable.

He seemed to come to a stand still in the middle of the room as he took you in, in your gorgeous Marie Antoinette style outfit. You were going to be taking the “let them eat cake” part of your birthday very literally.

Your smile turned coy as you said in a very sickly sweet way, “the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.” You said, finally finishing the line.

“The more you give to me, aye?” He said, a suddenly naughty look in his eye. “Tut, tut, tut.” He said, stalking over to you and dropping to his knees before you, his fingers already pawing at the ruffles of your skirt. “Naughty princess.” He said, looking up at you with a smile in the corner of his lips. “How much you going to give me?” He asked, his eyes growing dark, his fingers making their way under your skirts.

His eyes grew wide when he realised you weren’t wearing any underwear under all those ruffles. “You really are a naughty princess indeed.” He smirked, before lifting your skirts and placing his whole head underneath them.

“Fix!” You squealed, as his warm breath tickled the inside of your bare thighs.

“Shh, shhh, shh.” He said from under the skirts. “Let me give you your birthday present before someone comes and finds us.”

“Felix, what are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his lips brush against the inside of your left knee. “What do you mean my birthday prese-“ the word caught in your mouth as he reached up to pull you further to the edge of the bench, his tongue reaching out to immediately start lapping at your folds. Your breathing hitched and you reached for his shoulder over your skirts as he began to tease at your clit. “Ahhh, Felix… Felix.” You sighed as you began to relax into his touch.

This wasn’t the first time you’d fooled around in the library together- and it wouldn’t be your last- but you both knew with a house this full and with everyone in the middle of a glorified game of hide and seek, it wouldn’t be long before someone else came knocking at the door.

“Mhhhmmm.” You hummed in urgency as you felt him slip two of his fingers into you, teasing at that spot he knew made you literal putty in his hands. He didn’t let up though, even as you were wriggling, squirming and panting. If you weren’t wrapped up in how good this felt, you’d for sure be laughing about how you could only see his legs sticking out at the bottom of your voluminous skirts.

As he continued to tease you, your eyes closed, head rolling back to rest upon the cold glass of the window behind you. The lewd sound of the wetness between your legs, mixed in with the joint pants of both you and Felix, both of you growing warm from your current activity. You were growing close. You could feel it low in your belly, the sensitivity of his tongue on your clit growing too much. You knew he could feel it too because he pulled back, his fingers rubbing vigorously at your clit, urging you to cascade over the edge.

“Come on Princess, give it to me.” He said from under your skirts; and with a couple more brushes of his fingers over your clit you found yourself careening over the edge.

His mouth latched back onto your fluttering cunt as your orgasm took over, knocking the breathe out of you. You quickly gasped, desperate for air again as Felix’s tongue lapped up everything you were giving him. But you both froze as the sound of the latch on the door opened.

Felix held tight to your thighs reassuringly, but didn’t move from under your skirts, hoping his currently half covered hiding spot would allow whoever it was to look past him initially so you could get rid of them fast.

Your voice was panicked as you locked eyes with Ollie. “Get out.” You quickly shouted. You could just about see the faint blush forming on his cheeks as he quickly left and closed the door again.

Once alone, Felix finally pulled himself out from under your skirts, desperate for air. “Uhh, it’s hot under there.” He panted and you couldn’t help but laugh at his slightly disheveled state. His eyes sparkled as he took in your own post orgasm glow, his hand reaching up to fix his hair.

After a brief pause between you, he looked to the door and back at you. “Who was it?” He asked, taking a seat next to you.

“Ollie.” You said with a tight lipped smile.

Felix scoffed, “I bet he’s gonna love that one for his visual wank bank.”

“Uhhhgg, Fix.” You whined as you shoved him with your shoulder.

“Oh come on,” he replied in jest before standing, reaching a hand out to you, “we both know you’re not an actual innocent princess.”

“No,” you said, letting him pull you up from your perch on the bench, “but I am your princess.” You said cheesily, linking you arm in his.

He gave you a half patronising kiss on the head, “Yes, yes you are.” He said. “Now come on Princess, you have a birthday party to attend…. And cake to eat.”

“Let them eat cake!” You shouted before you both exited the library in a fit of giggles and went off in search of cake.

#summers at saltburn #saltburn imagines #saltburn x reader #felix catton imagine #felix catton smut #felix catton x reader #felix catton

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jiarkives · 5 months ago

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can I please request some cassian (acotar) x reader fluff? maybe he's been away on a long mission and he's finally home with his mate and he can't keep his hands off of her because he missed her so much ... (it can get smutty if you want) thank you!! xx

clingy

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — your mate gets even clingier after being apart from you.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — cassian (a court of thorns and roses)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff ; written with fem!reader in mind

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — thank you for the request! i hope i did your idea justice hehehe also the ending is kinda wack jdhdhdhdhd my hand was on autopilot basically

Mor, Amren, and Nesta all looked annoyed, Feyre and Elain looked... uncomfortable, at most, while you could only smile awkwardly as you sipped your tea soundly, smacking your lips for effect as you put the cup down. “Lovely weather today, am I right?”

“Oh, cut it out!” Nesta grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest as she glared at you. Well, not at you, but rather at the male beside you.

“Aren’t we going to address the elephant in the room?” Mor spoke up as her eyes fell on your mate whose arms were wrapped around your waist and his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One would think he was asleep, but if they would looked closer, they would’ve seen the shit eating grin plastered on his face.

(The sisters were definitely rubbing off of the inner circle, especially with their figures of speech which were definitely confusing at first for the immortals.)

“Is that what you’re calling me now? An elephant?” Cassian picked his head up briefly from your neck to address the females in the garden with you. “I bet I could beat those creatures in a split second. Am I right?” He turned to the sisters with a cocky smirk, his eyebrows wiggling.

All of them ignored him, only looking at you with exasperated expressions. Feyre sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, Amren shook her head, Elain tried to look busy, while Nesta and Mor were practically fuming.

“You do understand the concept of a girls’ day, don’t you?” Mor addressed you, her eyebrows pinched together.

“Yes, of course–”

“Then tell this big, dumb pile of muscle to let go off you and fuck off.” Nesta glared at Cassian who grumbled and tightened his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” You sighed. “He had just come back from Windhaven with Az earlier at dawn and hadn’t let me out of sight since, but we’ve already had this day set even before their mission and I didn’t want to cancel last minute...” Your words slowed at the last part as you smiled sheepishly. “But maybe I should’ve just cancelled...?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be a bother,” Feyre, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in before Mor and Nesta could blow up even more. “So let’s just continue as planned, but with Cassian here, who I’m sure will behave.” She looked over to Cassian, her gaze stern and receiving a mock salute in return from the male. “See? No need for rescheduling.”

Cassian turned to Nesta, sticking his tongue out at her like a toddler, but immediately stopped and hid his face back in your neck when Feyre uttered his name in warning, causing Nesta to smirk at him smugly.

You could only sigh heavily as your mate’s arms wrapped impossibly tighter around you.

Cauldron, this was going to be a long day.

It was, in fact, a long day for the lot of you.

Cassian, despite Feyre’s words of warning, decided to be the most annoying little shit (affectionate for you, derogatory for the rest) during your time together.

He was a busybody, of course he was more invested in the gossip than all of you were. But not only was he gossiping harder than a teenage girl, he was acting like a lovesick teenage boy too.

He wouldn’t keep his hands off of you, even going as far as teasing you with his hands trailing where they shouldn’t. You weren’t able to focus properly on your girls, having to swat at his hand every time.

Then, the girls’ love lives were brought up. Mor was talking about the female she recently met in the city when Cassian interrupted her, “A female? What’s her name? Where does she live? Do I know her? Does Rhys know about her—”

“Mother above, Cassian!” Mor groaned out. “You’re impossibly annoying, leave me alone. Gods.”

You had quickly apologized to the girls with a promise of making up to them another time as you stood, pulling your mate up with you and winnowing into the house Rhysand had gifted you two in your mating ceremony.

As soon as you were standing in the comfort of your own home, Cassian’s smug, cocky smirk softened into one you were used to seeing on him when you were alone.

“Finally.” He groaned in relief, his hands finding their way to your hips to pull you flush to his chest. “I’ve been waiting all godsdamned day, sweetheart.”

Then, his smirk returned as he lifted you in his arms.

“Now, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.” He pushed your bedroom door open. “Properly this time.”

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ julia writes about acotar !#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ julia writes about cass !#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #cassian #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #acotar imagine #cassian imagine #acotar fluff #cassian fluff #acotar x you #cassian x you #acotar x fem!reader #cassian x fem!reader #mate!reader #fem!reader #cassian x mate!reader

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uninformedartist · 22 days ago

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What was the point expecting anything other than dry bones for Millie, Loona even. Vivienne going as far making this bloody long thread (post at the end) hyping people up what she's got in store for Millie when we all know how she writes. Anything written for Millie or Loona or whatever female character is not really for them. Everything written for them has to 1 tie somehow in to a male character & 2 whats written for them ultimately developes a male character more.

Two instances in the latest episode. First instance:

Loona and Millie finally interacting that doesn't have to do with work or saving the other 2 (dorks episode). And what was their conversation about...Moxxie. Millie asking her to look after him. Which understandable Millie feels she has a lot on her plate having to deal with both of them at the same time but it comes back to their "development" comes centered around a man & furthering their character.

Side tangent on how their "development" developing male character more:

From this whole thing of Millie taking a client job what I learned about Moxxie is that he does the businesses finances, he overworks himself so much he 'shuts down' in highly stressful situations especially when its beyond his control or limits, he regrets he didn't become a theatre critic.

What I learnt about Millie, she cares for Blitz & Moxxie (know this), she actually has some sort of relationship with Loona (kind of this but its logical she would have). What I learnt on Loona, she's caring dispite her tough put on persona (definitively know this), she's smart as she picked up Moxxie didn't calculate properly (didn't know this but never doubted her intelligence really).

I learnt 3 new things about Moxxie and Millie & Loona just more examples of things I already know about them because it was said about them or things I never doubted they had already naturally.

Second instance:

Millie's backstory. Her whole backstory only came about because of Blitz, because of his hallucinations she brought up her backstory as a means of comfort to HIM.

Breaking apart her backstory, yeah she doesn't owe Blitz shit nor should apologise for this:

Blitz who we seen throughout the series has done a lot of respecting towards her and her husband.

Listing the "respecting" and not a full list only what I remember

*Episode 1 constantly mistreating and physically hurting her husband, end of the episode going as far making a rape threat towards both of them.

*Episode 2 having explicit sexual fantasies about the two of them at work knowing they've in a monogamous relationship & they established that firmly.

*Episode 5 constantly invalidates her husband in front of her & her family, doesn't show him an ounce of respect ever here.

*Episode 7 stalks them on a date the two of them planned, even after Moxxie verbally told him not to, he disregarded their boundaries in all regards

And so on and so forth so this line girl no.

You cannot establish multiple times Blitz was nothing but a piece of shit towards them then all of a sudden flip it that he actually saved her, gave her a good life ect and then have her say sorry dispite all previously established in show.

Aside, also good luck to her on career, a future in the long run. Millie your pension benefit is gone

💀✋

I know this show runs on having you "forget" what was previously established because its written like a bad fanfic but come on now its getting really ridiculous.

Vivienne YOU don't understand Millie or rather want to understand her more, only when you do is to when it comes to building your male characters more and just like the previous episodes, she fit the bill nicely developing Moxxie and Blitz further, Blitz more so. No amount of solid writing in this episode from Brandon and Waters can save the mess that is before this episode.

So this whole hype thread of hers was absolute nonsense, Millie sigh may you shine bright in the actual fanfics.

#vivziepop critical #my post #helluva boss critical #spindlehorse critical

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rarityroo · 7 months ago

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Dating Shōta Aizawa HCs

Hey, I haven’t written fanficion in a while (about 3 years) so please be kind and if you have any criticism let me hear it. This isn’t proofread and also written with a fem reader in mind, I whipped this up today while I work on requests! Enjoy!

You two have known each other since you were teenagers. You both attended UA and became friends after Hizashi introduced you to him properly, having seen him around whether it be in the halls or passing him as you left the school to go home.

It was very obvious you had a crush on him, so Hizashi being the outgoing guy he is, he decided to play matchmaker and do everything he could to get you two together.

Hizashi started small, he would make plans with the two of you and either "forget" to be there or "something would come up". Unfortunately, it didn't work quite the way he wanted it to as Shōta would be too nervous to be with you one-on-one for an extended amount of time and would often go home.

This made you very sad as you assumed that meant he didn't like you romanticly in the way you liked him. Hizashi noticing this decided to go to more extreme measures, he planned to put fake love confession notes in both of your lockers.

Causing the two of you to finally face each other and confess your feelings.....

You look at the note in your hands lightly trembling peering down at it, your heart clenches in a mixture of anxiety and excitement at the thought that this is genuine. A confession from the man you had a crush on for so long, God this felt like a dream! The note says to meet him at the top of the rooftop of UA, this felt unreal, it felt too outgoing and too forward, this was so unlike Shōta. Despite it all a part of you wanted to believe it anyway.

With anxious steps, you go up toward the rooftop, you see him with his back turned to you the wind lightly sweeping his hair, he turns to you with an unreadable expression he pauses before finally saying, "So...you wanted to meet me here?" You're struck with confusion "W-What? I thought-" Completely bewildered by this situation, Shōta looks at you, you look at him, you both blink in bafflement. "Hold on I thought you wanted to meet me here?" Shōta declares, his eyes holding a look of hurt confusion. "I do! Trust me I do, I just thought...you wanted to meet me here." You say. As you stand there, caught in this whirlwind of misunderstanding, "I think Hizashi had something to do with this." you say sheepishly finally understanding the situation. Shōtas confusion shifts to a mix of annoyance and amusement, while you can't help but feel a rush of embarrassment. But amidst the chaos, something clicks inside you. You take a deep breath, gathering your courage.

"Actually, Shōta, there's something I've been wanting to tell you," you begin, your voice shaky. "Even though this whole situation is a mess, I have to say. I... I have feelings for you. And not just because of this note mix-up, but because, well, I've liked you for a while now."

Shōta's expression softens, his eyes widening in surprise. "You... you do?" he stammers, his usual stoic demeanor faltering.

You nod, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Yeah, I do. So, um, would you maybe want to go out sometime? Like, on a real date?"

A smile spreads across Shōta's face, his eyes sparkling with soft admiration. "I'd love to," he replies, his voice gentle yet so sincere. "And... I think I might have some feelings for you too."

After graduating from UA you two stayed together the entire time even getting an apartment together. Despite you and Shōta being proheros while Shōta is an underground hero with a chaotic schedule that usually makes him return home at ungodly hours of the night, you try to keep a somewhat domestic lifestyle. Making him lunches or making dinner and leaving it in the microwave for when he gets home.

You two also have two cats together, a Russian blue named Cheese and a long-haired tabby cat named Azuki. Shōta is an amazing cat dad, after patrol, he sometimes gets them treats and will always get them the best toys, food, and the nicest food and water bowls.

His students know about you, he doesn't talk about you very often because he values his privacy but Hizashi likes to tease him about his "pretty partner" making Shōta very flustered and annoyed.

One thing you were always sure of is that no matter how difficult either of your days was, no matter how much physical and mental pain both of you were in you would always come back to each other.

After a long night of patrol, his body was sore and his mind was clouded and tired, aching limbs carry his body into the shared apartment, Shōta looks at the clock on the wall, 3 AM "Damn", Shōta says rubbing his hands across his face in exhaustion, a soft mew pulls him out of his fatigued state. Azuki looks up at him, soft round eyes staring, "Hey Azuki, you keep momma company?" Shōta reaches down to pet the cat's head Azuki meows happily in response. He smiles softly and walks over to your shared bedroom, slowly opening the door not bothering to undress out of his hero uniform. Plops down into the bed exhaustion taking him completely he falls asleep comfortably, Shōta mind feels no longer plagued with weariness and anxiety just peace and clarity always with you. Forever with you.

#bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #my hero academia #mha x reader #shota aizawa #shota aizawa x reader #my hero acedamia x reader #aizawa x reader fluff #bnha aizawa #mha aizawa #myheroacedamia

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gliphyartfan · 2 months ago

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@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Another rewrite! …Why do I focus on rewrites?

Because I refuse to accept my earlier works as my standard when I KNOW they could be better. 😀

So enjoy!

Which bit is this rewrite? The Wedding bit!

I am PROUD to say! I have made absolutely sure the the victim of the chain’s anger was written to be as hatable as I could make them! And hopefully I made their fate worse than the original bit! I did my best to finally bring the vision in my head into my writing properly!

(….i need to learn how to make a master list for all my writing 😀)

….

…(I also need to start working on some asks…)

…(meh, later)

Enjoy my pretties!

—————

‘I’ll be fine, guys!’

She totally should have seen this coming.

‘It’s Wars’ era; wandering the market alone won’t be that bad.’

The thought felt almost laughable now. These past few days had been way too calm for all of them.

‘I’ll be gone for an hour! Two hours tops! Promise!’

Of course, something like this had to happen.

Now she was dangling from a makeshift rope made of torn bedsheets, trying to escape through the window of a room she had been trapped in.

‘This. fucking. sucks!’

This is what happens when you jinx yourself. Everything had been fine; no, more than fine, for the first hour.

She’d browsed the market, admired some trinkets, and even petted a few dogs. That had been nice.

But by the second hour...

‘His Grace wishes to discuss some things with you.’

‘Sorry, I’m… flattered, but you got the wrong person. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable—’

‘That wasn’t a request.’

‘...What—?’

She should have known. There had been someone behind her, there always is. It’s when your guard is down that they strike.

And now she was halfway down a rope made of sheets, escaping a wedding she didn’t agree to, running from a Duke who thought he could just claim her.

‘I’m going to get lectured so badly after this!’ she muttered under her breath as she inched down the rope. She could already hear Time’s exasperated sigh, and Wild’s concerned scolding for sneaking off. Warriors would probably be furious that she hadn’t told him where she was going.

‘I’m not even a hero, dammit! I didn’t sign up for this kind of thing!’

Her feet dangled a few feet off the ground as she debated how to drop without making too much noise or hurting herself.

‘Damn you, laws of physics and gravity!’ she hissed.

As if the laws wanted to mock her, the knot at the top of the rope loosened, sending her plummeting into the bushes below.

‘Urk—branch! Branch!’ she winced, reaching behind her to pull a sharp stick out of her back, rubbing the area sorely. The bedsheet rope draped over her head like some absurd veil, and she tossed it aside with an irritated grunt.

She checked her hands quickly, no blood, thank god. But before she could plan her next move, she froze. Heavy thuds of metal clanked through the air.

Guards.

Her heart pounded as she ducked lower into the bushes, her breath catching in her throat. Peering through the leaves, she confirmed her worst fear: the guards were making their rounds, and judging by their armor, they weren’t from Hyrule.

‘Shit.’

She held her breath as they neared her hiding spot.

"Is the Duke really gonna marry that girl?" one of the guards asked, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Seems to be the case. He’s been real pleased with himself too. Wants the wedding done the moment we reach back home, from what I’ve heard. Wants to immediately leave after the peace talks in a week.”

A week? (y/n) bit her lip to keep from gasping aloud. This was worse than she thought. She didn’t have much time.

"Not surprised. Have you seen her? Bet he’s eager for the wedding night, if you catch my drift."

Laughter followed, and her stomach twisted in disgust. She grit her teeth, fury bubbling up in her chest.

"A beauty like that for a wife would sure boost his status. Shame I didn’t find her first.”

His companion laughed, “I hear you.”

Her fingers curled into fists. She wanted nothing more than to leap from the bushes and smack them both across the face. The idea of someone, anyone, talking about her like that...

But it wasn’t just that. The humiliation, the fear—they thought they could just control her, that they could strip away her autonomy like it meant nothing.

The guards passed by her hiding spot, oblivious to the glare she shot their way through the leaves.

Just keep walking, she thought darkly, gripping her dress to keep her emotions in check.

Once the guards were a safe distance away, she slowly exhaled and took stock of her situation. The good news? She wasn’t caught yet. The bad news? She was wearing a dress that restricted her movement and heels she could barely walk in, let alone run.

‘Great. Just great,’ she muttered under her breath, tugging the damn heels off and tossing them aside.

‘Can’t run or climb in these anyway,’ she thought, feeling slightly better as the cool ground met her bare feet.

Looking down at her dress, she felt a new surge of frustration. It was beautiful, kinda, sure, but that was the problem. She hadn’t picked it. It wasn’t for her—it was for the Duke, a symbol of control.

‘I need to get out of here. Now.’

She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do next. She could try to find a disguise, or maybe just rip the dress enough to give herself more mobility. The exit was close, but it would take some clever maneuvering to avoid getting caught.

‘Focus, (Y/N), focus,’ she told herself, peeking out from the bushes again.

This was not how she imagined today going. And the thought of the others being worried sick made her stomach churn with guilt. They would be searching for her by now, maybe even panicking.

‘I am never living this down,’ she groaned internally, her frustration mounting. The more she thought about the situation, the more aggravated she became.

Being kidnapped, forced into a ridiculous wedding dress, leered at by guards, this was just too much.

‘But I’m getting out of here. One way or another.’

With a deep breath, she picked up her dress, tore off a few layers of fabric, and quietly slipped out of the bushes. Time to make her move.

——

“WHERE. IS. SHE?!”

“Link, please—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Zelda!” Warriors snarled, his voice trembling with rage as he stormed forward, his eyes wild. The way he moved had Wind biting his lip, already feeling the tension in the air thickening. This was going to explode, and soon.

Impa had barely finished giving her report when Warriors marched right up to the princess, standing toe to toe with her, his eyes burning with fury.

“Impa’s men are searching every inch of the castle and surrounding areas,” Zelda said steadily, though even Wind could tell she was rattled by the look in Warriors’ eyes. “We will find her.”

“It's been nearly a MONTH, and you have nothing to show for it!” Warriors’ voice cracked. His hand shot to his hair, raking it back, his knuckles white as if he were holding back from drawing his sword. “You’ve wasted time playing politics, while she’s, while she’s out there., who knows where!”

Zelda took a step back, her expression tightening, but her voice held firm. “You know I’ve been working day and night with—”

“The Grand Duke of the overseas kingdom, here to ‘promote peace and unity,’” Warriors spat the words like poison. “Oh, yes, VERY important while someone has gone missing under the ‘watchful eye’ of your men!” His voice was sharp and cutting, each word like a knife thrown in Zelda’s direction.

Wind shot a glance at Hyrule. He didn’t need to say anything. Hyrule’s wide eyes said it all, this was spiraling fast.

“My men?” Zelda’s voice dropped to a dangerous level, but her tone was ice. “I’ve had every guard in the city searching. We've blocked every gate, checked every exit, questioned every merchant. Don’t forget, these are your men too, Captain.”

Warriors’ eyes narrowed into slits. “Apparently not anymore. You’ve got them running errands and playing security for your little peace talks. I’m ashamed to call them my men at this point.”

“Excuse me?!” Zelda’s voice rose, her royal authority barely masking the fury underneath. Wind could practically feel the temperature in the room drop, and for a second, he wondered if they were about to witness something they couldn’t come back from.

“Warriors, cool it,” Wind whispered under his breath, knowing it was useless. When Warriors got like this, there was no reasoning with him.

“Your priorities have been clear from the start, haven’t they, Princess?” Warriors wasn’t backing down, his voice low and venomous. “The Duke arrives, and suddenly, the focus is all on making him comfortable, while she’s been gone for 3 weeks—three weeks—and what have you done? Talked?”

“Don’t you DARE.” Zelda’s voice snapped like a whip. “You think I want her to be missing? I’ve had every resource at my disposal searching for her, but this city is massive, and the Duke—”

“Oh, yes, the Duke!” Warriors threw his arms up in the air, pacing like a caged animal. “I wouldn’t even be hounding you so much if you’d just let me search his quarters! But no, ‘he’s a guest,’ you said. ‘He has nothing to do with it,’ you said. How do you know that, Zelda? How?”

“Because I do! I have been keeping an eye on him—”

“You mean distracting him while we scramble to find her? If he’s behind this, if anything’s happened to her because you—”

Zelda’s expression turned murderous. “How DARE you accuse me of not caring—”

“I'm not accusing you of not caring, Princess.” Warriors cut her off, his voice now trembling with the force of his frustration. “But I am accusing you of negligence. Letting him walk around while she—”

Zelda stepped forward, eyes blazing. “You think you’re the only one who’s worried, Warriors? You think I haven’t thought of every possible angle, every possible move that could have been made? But you cannot just accuse a royal guest without evidence! If I grant you access to his quarters without cause, it’s war!”

“As if our era isn’t already used to war!”

“War is what I am trying to prevent from happening again!”

For a moment, Warriors' hand twitched toward his sword. Wind saw it, Hyrule saw it, but Zelda seemed oblivious to how close he was to losing control. His entire body was tense, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

Wind glanced at Hyrule, who was nervously twisting his hands, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes. Wind felt it too. Enough was enough.

“This is going nowhere,” Hyrule muttered, leaning toward Wind. “We need to do something, or they’ll be at each other’s throats.”

Wind nodded, already hatching a plan. “Twilight’s got Wolfie searching, right?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule whispered back. “But the storm’s making it difficult.”

“And Time, Wild, and Legend?”

“They’re talking with the merchants. Four and Sky are questioning the guards.”

Wind bit back a groan. They were running out of leads, but there was one place they hadn’t checked, somewhere they weren’t allowed to check. Wind’s gaze slid toward the guest wing. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Hyrule nodded grimly. “We’ve gotta sneak in. It’s better than standing here listening to this.”

Wind let out a sigh, straightening up. “Right. I’ll distract the walking volcano.”

He stepped forward. “Wars!” His voice was calm, but commanding enough to cut through the escalating argument.

Warriors spun around, his eyes still blazing with frustration. “What?!”

“Hyrule’s got a lead. I’m heading out with him to check it.”

For a moment, Warriors just stared at him, fists clenched, his body still taut with anger. Wind kept his face casual, but held the captain’s gaze in a way only a fellow hero could have, willing him to stand down.

After what felt like an eternity, Warriors grunted, then turned back to Zelda, still seething, but slightly less dangerous than before.

Wind shot Hyrule a look. “Let’s go.”

They slipped out of the room, leaving the arguing pair behind. Hyrule sighed in relief. “That was close.”

Wind nodded, shaking out the tension in his shoulders. “Too close. Impa’s still scouring the marketplace, right?”

Hyrule nodded as they moved quickly toward the guest wing. “Yeah, but she’ll be too focused there to notice us slipping in here.”

“Good,” Wind muttered, steeling himself. “Let’s get this done.”

They hurried down the hall, the sounds of the heated discussion echoing behind them, hearts pounding but minds set, knowing they were racing against the clock to find their missing beloved, and possibly uncover a truth that no one wanted to admit.

——

Time leaned against the wall of a rundown building, the crumbling stone cold beneath his back as the narrow alleyway closed in around them. The shadows made it hard to tell the time of day, but the stench of rot, dirt, and stale air was unmistakable. In front of him, Wild stood with a scowl, roughly shoving a folded cloth into his hand.

“Stubborn fools,” Wild bit out, glaring toward the darkened streets ahead. “You ask them a simple question, and they act like you’re pulling their teeth.”

Time pressed the cloth to his cheek, wincing as the pressure stung. He pulled it away for a moment to check. Blood. Still fresh. A tsk was heard, he glanced over at Legend who looked at him with a sidelong smirk. “Getting hit by a weakling like that,” he said, shaking his head. “You must be getting rusty.”

Time shot him a dirty look. “I wouldn’t have gotten hit if you hadn’t been so focused on asking your questions that you didn’t see him pull out that hammer. Perhaps you’re the one getting rusty.”

Legend scoffed, “The hell I am. Some people are too stupid to know their limits. Not my fault they sucker-punched you while you were distracted.”

Time grunted, pressing the cloth back to the cut. The blood slowed, but it was a stark reminder of how close they’d been to losing control. It had been days of dead ends, and the longer they searched, the more tempers flared. People were scared, angry, and keeping secrets.

The sound of padded footsteps caught their attention, and Time looked up as Wolfie approached, his muzzle stained with mud and his fur drenched from the storm. The wolf shifted as he neared, and in a blink, Twilight stood before them, frustration carved deep into his face.

“Nothing,” Twilight growled, running a hand through his wet hair. “Even if the Storm hadn’t washed out everything. It’s been weeks. No new scents, no leads. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

Wild kicked at a piece of loose stone on the ground, sending it skittering across the alleyway. “Great. That’s just perfect.”

The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their failed efforts heavy in the damp air. The marketplace had turned up nothing. The guards had been tight-lipped, either clueless or too scared to say anything useful.

“We’re being played,” Legend finally muttered, leaning his back against the wall beside Time. “That tip from the merchant was too clean, too neat. Someone’s feeding us false information.”

Twilight growled low in his throat. “I knew it felt off. The bastard probably got paid to lead us in circles.”

Time wiped at the blood on his cheek and frowned. “Whoever it is, they know more than they’re letting on. And someone’s paying them well enough to stay quiet.”

“Or scared enough,” Wild added darkly, his arms crossing over his chest. “Could be either. Doesn’t matter though. They’ll slip up eventually.”

Twilight’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with frustration. “They think they can play us for fools. That we’ll just chase shadows while she’s...”

He trailed off, unable to finish, his hands curling into fists.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Time said, though even he couldn’t deny the bleakness creeping into his voice. “Whoever’s pulling the strings is leaving a trail. We just need to find it before it disappears.”

They stood for a moment longer, the only sound the faint moans of pain coming from deeper within the building they’d just left. The stench of blood still lingered in the air, mingling with the sourness of sweat and dirt.

Wild pushed off the wall first, his footsteps echoing in the alleyway. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s move.”

Time glanced back at the building, frowning at the fading sounds from inside. The man they’d questioned wouldn’t be giving them any more trouble, but he hadn’t given them anything useful either. The city was vast, and their enemies were hiding in the cracks, pulling the strings while they ran themselves ragged.

As they left the alley behind, the oppressive stench of blood and muffled groans were swallowed by the shadows

—-

(Y/n) crouched behind a large tapestry in the dimly lit room, her heart hammering in her chest. The cold stone floor beneath her did nothing to calm the fire of rage simmering in her veins. She hadn’t realized so much time he passed since that foreign Duke abducted her.

She felt sick to realize she had been been missing for nearly a month, dragged into the, apparently restricted at the Duke’s request, guest wing of the castle, and now she was overhearing the very man responsible for it all.

The Duke.

His voice, low and venomous, echoed through the halls. “Find her!” he hissed to his guards, pacing back and forth. “I don’t care how many walls you need to tear down or how many peasants you need to question. That woman is mine. Her disappearance is an embarrassment I will not tolerate!”

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, bile rising in her throat. She clutched her knees tightly to her chest, pressing herself further into the shadows behind the tapestry, trying to silence the sound of her frantic breathing.

“She will elevate my status beyond anything the nobles back home could dream of,” the Duke continued, his tone sickeningly triumphant. “Marrying such an exotic woman… the people here may be uncivilized and backward, but even they will recognize my superiority when I present her at my side.”

(Y/n)’s fists clenched as she listened. The disdain in his voice made her stomach churn. His words were dripping with arrogance, each syllable laced with contempt for the people of Hyrule.

“Pathetic, really,” the Duke sneered, his voice closer now, as though he were pacing just on the other side of the wall. “These Hylians and their so-called ‘heroes.’ They cling to outdated traditions and backward social norms, to so wholly believe in these ridiculous goddesses. Blind to what true civilization looks like. But they’ll see. They’ll all see.”

He paused, and (Y/n) could hear the faint rustle of fabric as he leaned closer to one of his guards. His voice lowered to a sinister whisper, though it was no less venomous. “Once I marry her, I’ll have the favor of the famed heroes of this kingdom. They seemed so attached to her. They’ll vouch for me, earn the favor of our king, and I’ll be able to solidify my control here. No one would dare defy me once I have their backing.”

He laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver of disgust down her spine. “Hyrule will fall into line, and I’ll rise even further back home. No one will question my power once they see the heroes standing by my side.”

The guards murmured in agreement, and the Duke continued. “And if she resists, well…” He chuckled darkly. “She’ll learn her place soon enough. A wife should know how to serve her husband. She’ll be disciplined into obedience, whether she likes it or not.”

(Y/n) bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, doing everything she could to remain in control. Her body trembled with barely contained fury and disgust, but she couldn’t let it out. Not now. Not when she was so close to being found.

She forced herself to take shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling slowly as she tried to quiet the storm inside her. The Duke’s voice grated on her nerves, but she couldn’t afford to lose control now. Her survival depended on staying hidden.

Another guard spoke, their voice muffled but stern. The Duke scoffed. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll have her found, and Hyrule will learn to bow to our superior kingdom soon enough.”

Her nails dug into her palms, her skin protesting the tightness of her grip as she squeezed her eyes shut even harder.

The thought of him dragging her away from everyone she knew, to force her in front of a foreign kingdom, of forcing her into a marriage for his gain, revolted her to her very core.

She could feel the burn of anger deep inside her, but she had to stay silent. She had to stay hidden.

Breathing in deeply through her nose and letting it out in controlled, quiet exhales, (Y/n) focused on calming her body, no matter how much her mind screamed at her to lash out, to fight. Her legs cramped painfully, but she didn’t dare shift, didn’t dare move a single muscle.

For now, she had to remain in the shadows. She had to wait for the right moment, to find a way out.

And when she did, she swore to herself, there would be hell to pay.

——-

——

——-

Warriors paced back and forth in the small side room, his steps quick and agitated, his breath heavy with frustration. The conversation with Zelda had spiraled out of control, ending with the princess sternly reminding him that under no circumstances was he to storm the guest wing. Not now. Not while she was still in delicate talks with the Duke.

He gritted his teeth, hands clenched into fists at his sides. She had dismissed him, brushed off his suspicions like they were nothing. But he knew. He knew that bastard Duke had something to do with it. His gut screamed at him, instincts honed from years on the battlefield, sharpened by countless encounters with deceit and betrayal.

The Duke had been eyeing (Y/n) from the moment Zelda had introduced the group to him. His gaze lingered too long, and his smile, that polished, slimy smile, barely hid the hunger behind his eyes. Every time the Duke spoke, he oozed charm, but Warriors had seen men like him before,!self-serving, arrogant, and dangerous in their subtlety.

But it was the way he pretended to be concerned for her that sent a pulse of fury through him. The Duke’s false words still echoed in Warriors’ mind, “I do hope the young lady is found safe and sound. Such a terrible thing to happen during such a peaceful visit.”

The image of the Duke’s fake sympathetic expression, his carefully rehearsed tone, made Warriors feel sick. He had to bite back the urge to lash out right then and there.

Safe and sound? No, that man didn’t care about her safety. He was only worried about his damned political games.

Warriors could feel the murderous thoughts bubbling up inside him, thoughts he was struggling to push down. If the Duke had any hand in (Y/n)’s disappearance... He didn’t need a sword to end the man’s life. No, he could already picture it—the Duke’s smug face contorting in pain, Warriors’ hands around his throat as he squeezed the life out of him. Slowly. He would take his time, watching as the fear bloomed in the man’s eyes. Watching as he realized he had made a fatal mistake.

The thought should have disturbed him, but it didn’t. Not anymore. The rage that had been boiling beneath the surface for the past week had numbed everything else. (Y/n) was out there, somewhere, possibly in danger, and this bastard was pretending like he had nothing to do with it.

Warriors' hands shook, not with fear, but with the barely restrained need to act, to do something. He couldn't stand it. But storming into the guest wing now, or throttling the Duke on the spot, wouldn't help. Not yet. He was under too much scrutiny, with Zelda and her royal guards watching every move.

No, he couldn’t move about as freely as he wanted, couldn’t act on his anger just yet. But he could keep the attention off the others. Time, Twilight, Wind—they were moving, searching, following their own leads. Warriors had to buy them time. He had to make sure no one started questioning where they were.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened his back, forcing himself to regain control. The weight of his responsibility settled on his shoulders as he smoothed out his expression, wiping away the fury that threatened to break free. He couldn’t let it show. Not now.

He strode out of the room with purpose, his steps firm, but his mind already planning. If he couldn’t act against the Duke now, he could make sure that Zelda and Impa were too occupied to interfere. Keep them focused elsewhere. Keep the palace guards looking in the wrong places, while the others moved unseen.

First, he needed to find Impa. She had returned recently to report on the search efforts, and Warriors would make sure she and Zelda were kept busy—too busy to start questioning any absences.

If the Duke thought he could play games with them, he was dead wrong. And Warriors would make sure he didn’t get the chance to cover his tracks.

As he marched through the hallways, the image of (Y/n)’s smile flashed in his mind, followed by the overwhelming need to protect her, to find her before it was too late. He clenched his fists once more, his steps becoming more determined.

The Duke would regret ever laying eyes on her. And when the time came, Warriors would make sure of it.

——

—-

——-

Hyrule and Wind crouched in the shadow of a towering stone column, the cool night air of the guest wing stirring their cloaks. The guest wing of the castle, though technically part of the larger palace, felt worlds away from where the rest of the group and Zelda were. It was isolated, built for convenience but also privacy, which was exactly why they were there.

Beyond their hiding spot, Hylian guards patrolled the outer perimeter, their footsteps echoing softly on the stone paths. But inside the wing, the Duke’s personal guards were everywhere, pacing, watching, alert as if they were expecting something. Or worse, as if they were trying to hide something.

Wind’s voice was barely a whisper in the dark. "Why would someone have this many guards searching around like this unless they were hiding something?"

Hyrule pressed his back against the stone, eyes following the movement of two guards passing dangerously close to their position. "No one posts this many men unless they’re nervous about someone finding something," he murmured. “Definitely suspicious.”

They both waited in silence until the guards passed. Wind’s eyes darted from one end of the hallway to the other, clearly trying to figure out their next move. "Where do we start?” he asked, leaning closer to Hyrule. “The top floors? Bottom? If we go high, we can look for anything that might give us a view of what’s going on down here."

Hyrule nodded, biting his lip in thought. "But if there’s something they’re hiding, it’s probably hidden deep, right? Somewhere they think no one will look. We could start with the bottom floors—"

“Or they could be keeping something valuable up top,” Wind interrupted, eyes scanning the darkened windows of the upper floors.

A pause settled between them. Hyrule considered it before sighing, "Top floors, then. They’d expect someone to look below first."

With a shared glance, they crept through the shadows and made their way into the guest wing building, sneaking past the Hylian guards outside and slipping in through a side entrance. Inside, the hallway stretched ahead of them, dimly lit by the occasional torch, with a lavishness that was a stark contrast to the rest of the palace.

They slunk through the corridor, sticking close to the walls, their footsteps light and barely a whisper. At each corner, Wind would glance around, his instincts as sharp as ever, while Hyrule kept an eye out for anything out of place.

They climbed the stairs slowly, cautious not to draw any attention. Several doors lined the upper floor hallway, each one a possible lead, but they couldn’t afford to waste time searching them all. Time was precious. As they moved deeper into the guest wing, a sense of tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Eventually, they found themselves in front of a door far more ornate than the others. Wind raised an eyebrow at Hyrule, and with a small nod, they slipped inside.

The room was richly decorated, luxurious rugs, heavy drapes, and expensive looking furniture. It was clear that this room belonged to someone of high importance.

“Where the Duke’s staying,” Hyrule whispered, eyes narrowing.

They began searching, carefully and quickly rifling through the drawers and shelves. Papers, documents, most of which Wind couldn’t make sense of. But as he sifted through a pile of letters, he paused, squinting at one.

"I can’t read this language," Wind muttered, his fingers tracing over the unfamiliar text. "But I’d recognize (Y/n)’s name anywhere."

Hyrule stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. “That’s her name, alright,” he confirmed, eyes hardening. “We need to keep these. Evidence."

Wind didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly tucked the letters into his tunic before they continued their search, digging through more documents and looking for anything that might give them a clue.

But just as Wind was opening another drawer, Hyrule’s ears twitched. He froze, his eyes widening. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered. “The guards... they’re getting louder.”

Wind straightened, his attention shifting to the noises outside. The once steady pace of the guards had turned frantic, footsteps quickened, orders barked in hushed tones. The two exchanged a look. They didn’t need to say anything; they both knew what it meant.

“They’re onto us,” Hyrule whispered.

Wind gritted his teeth. "We need to get out of here."

Without another word, they slipped back out of the Duke’s room, their movements fast and silent as they retraced their steps. But as they neared the exit, Wind suddenly skidded to a stop, his sharp intake of breath making Hyrule nearly crash into him.

“What?” Hyrule whisper-yelled, his voice barely above a breath. “What is it?”

Wind didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on something, a frown pulling at his lips. "I saw something," he muttered, his voice distant. He turned on his heel and bolted toward a door down the hall, leaving Hyrule no choice but to chase after him.

“Wind!” Hyrule hissed, following close behind. But Wind didn’t go far. He stopped abruptly at the door, his expression hard as he pressed his hand against it.

Hyrule caught up, his heart racing. "What are you doing?"

Wind’s frown deepened as he tested the handle. It didn’t budge. The door was locked tight, and it felt... wrong. He pressed his palm flat against the wood, eyes narrowing in concentration. “I... swore I saw something. Or heard it,” he muttered, shaking his head in frustration. For a moment, he seemed to contemplate something, his brows furrowing.

But then, he shook it off. "We should leave. Now."

Hyrule opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, sensing the urgency in Wind’s tone. With a reluctant nod, they turned and made their way back toward their exit.

Behind the door, muffled by its heavy wood, several guards stood holding it shut, their grips tight and faces tense. Inside, several more restrained a struggling figure, (Y/n), her body thrashing against their iron holds. One of the guards kept his hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her desperate attempts to scream.

Once they were sure the intruders had gone, one of the guards pressed his ear to the door. "They’re gone," he whispered.

The leader of the group turned to his men, his eyes cold. “Good. Bring her to the Duke. Now.”

(Y/n) screamed into the guard’s hand, her eyes wide with panic, but her cries were swallowed by the oppressive silence of the corridor. She kicked and fought, refusing to go down without a fight, but her captors held her fast, dragging her out of the room and down the dimly lit hallway.

The castle’s walls echoed with her muffled struggles, but no one came to her aid. No one heard her, save for the men who would deliver her to the one person she wanted nothing to do with the most.

——

——-

Warriors stood across from Zelda, his posture rigid, his hands clenched tightly behind his back. His voice was low, firm, barely restrained. "Either you help me find her," he began, each word deliberate, "or when we do find her—and we will—you will face immense shame for doubting me."

Zelda, sitting behind her desk, kept her gaze locked with his. Her expression was calm, but there was tension in her shoulders. "Captain," she said, her voice equally measured, "I am deeply concerned for (Y/n), more than you know. But I cannot, will not, risk instigating a war with the foreign kingdom over one person. As important as she is, and believe me, she is, I must think of my people, of the kingdom."

Warriors’ jaw tightened, biting back the retort that sprang to his mind. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had risked everything for a single person. He thought bitterly of Cia and the war of eras she had unleashed in her misguided obsession. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he took a breath, forcing the words down.

"One more time, Princess," he warned, his blue eyes locking with hers, cold and unwavering. "This Duke is hiding something, and you're blinded by your duty. When the truth comes out, and it will, you will regret not trusting me." His voice dropped even lower, carrying a dangerous edge.

Zelda remained composed, but her fingers curled slightly where they rested on the desk. Though her face showed nothing, Warriors could see the subtle shift in her stance, the way her body tensed as if bracing for the weight of his words. He had struck a nerve, even if she refused to show it.

Her reply was steady. "I cannot be reckless, Captain. You know that."

For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken tension. Warriors stared at her for a long beat, then turned sharply on his heel, leaving the room without another word. His strides were quick and purposeful, but his mind was anything but calm. He moved through the halls in silence, his footsteps echoing in the vast corridors of the castle.

When he reached his room, he leaned against the door after closing it behind him. A heavy sigh escaped him as he closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body. But the relief was fleeting. His mind raced, his thoughts a storm of anger, worry, and frustration.

The room was quiet, too quiet. For a moment, he let himself stand there in the stillness, his heart pounding. Then, there was a faint sound—shuffling, the softest of movements.

His eyes snapped open.

---

(Y/n) hit the ground hard, pain radiating from her cheek where the Duke’s hand had struck her. She winced, one hand flying up to clutch the stinging skin, her fingers trembling. The world tilted for a moment, her vision swimming as she tried to gather herself.

The Duke loomed above her, his face twisted with fury, his eyes dark with something far more sinister than mere anger. "You stupid, insolent girl," he spat, his voice venomous. "Do you have any idea what you’ve cost me? Do you even realize how much trouble you’re in?"

(Y/n) didn’t answer. Her cheek burned, and her body felt heavy from the struggle against the guards. She managed to push herself up slightly, her eyes filled with defiance despite the pain.

The Duke’s lip curled in disgust as he glared down at her. "You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side since your group arrived." He stepped closer, towering over her. "But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you understand your place soon enough."

(Y/n) glared up at him, refusing to cower. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stay focused, trying to think of a way out of this.

"You won’t get away with this," she muttered, her voice hoarse.

The Duke laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "Oh, I already have."

The Duke's lips curled into a sickening smile, one he likely thought was charming, as he crouched down to meet (Y/n)’s gaze. His tone, dripping with mockery and condescension, was meant to sound sweet, gentle, almost affectionate. But the cruelty underneath it was unmistakable.

"Oh, my dear," he cooed, as though comforting a child, "you really don’t understand the opportunity you’ve been given, do you? The honor of becoming my wife? The status you’ll gain. Not just in this kingdom , but in my kingdom as well. You’ll be revered, admired by all. The people will look up to you as a noblewoman, married to someone of true importance." His smile widened as he stood, straightening his clothes with a casual air. "You’ll settle down once you return home with me. All of this fighting, this rebellion... it’s unbecoming. But it’s cute. You’ll learn soon enough that your place is by my side."

(Y/n)’s chest heaved with a mixture of rage and disgust, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. His words were vile, each one dripping with misogyny and entitlement, and she couldn’t hold back the sharp retort that burst from her. "I see right through you," she snapped, her voice laced with fury. "You’re pathetic. You have to resort to underhanded tricks to rise in status because you know you’ll never be anything on your own." She met his eyes, her glare defiant. "You think marrying me will get the heroes to vouch for you, don’t you? That somehow being tied to me will give you an edge, make you seem important. But they’ll see you for the snake you are."

The Duke’s face twisted in anger, his hand snapping up as though to strike her again, but (Y/n) didn’t flinch. Instead, she let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh, staring him down with a smirk. "Go ahead," she taunted. "Raise your hand again. But remember, no one wants a bruised bride, do they? It doesn’t matter what you do to me, Duke," she spat his title like a curse, "I’ll make sure everyone knows what kind of monster you are. Touch me again, and I’ll scream it from the rooftops."

For a moment, the Duke froze, his hand hovering in the air, his face a mask of fury. Then, slowly, he lowered it, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You little harlot," he hissed, his voice trembling with rage. "You dare speak to me like that?"

(Y/n) met his gaze, unyielding, even as her heart pounded in her chest.

"The talks with your pathetic princess are nearly over," he said, his voice regaining its cold, calculating tone. "And once they are, you will leave with me. There is no escape. You’ll be mine, whether you like it or not. As for your little group of so-called heroes..." He smirked cruelly. "Perhaps I’ll let them write to you, if they remain useful to me. But don’t get your hopes up."

He turned to leave but paused at the door, casting one more look over his shoulder. "And don’t even think about tearing your gown again. It’ll be remade, and if you ruin it once more..." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "There will be consequences."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving (Y/n) alone in the cold, suffocating silence.

As soon as he was gone, the fury and frustration she had been holding back erupted. A scream tore through her clenched teeth, her entire body trembling with rage. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision as she pressed her palms to the stone floor, her nails digging into the cracks.

She wanted to punch him. To knock that smug, arrogant smile off his face and make him feel the pain he’d caused her.

Her hand drifted to her cheek, the skin still stinging from where he’d struck her. The tears finally spilled over, and she sniffled, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

She wanted to be back with the others, where she was safe, where she didn’t have to endure this nightmare. Where she could hear their voices, their laughter, and feel the comfort of their presence.

——

The Chain moved differently now, more focused, deliberate. Their usual camaraderie was muted, their laughter and conversations replaced by an eerie silence that cloaked them like a shadow. They no longer exchanged pleasantries with Zelda or Impa, nor did they speak to any of the royal guards as they had before.

They were careful. They avoided the guest wing entirely, making Zelda suspicious, yet she could do nothing about it. They hadn’t broken any rules. They hadn’t acted out of line.

But something was off.

Her attention remained on the Duke, but doubt gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. The diplomatic talks were drawing to a close, but instead of relief, Zelda felt an unfamiliar tension rising within her. The Duke’s demeanor had changed. He seemed...happier. Almost too pleased.

His remarks, while outwardly appropriate, struck her as increasingly odd. Every time he expressed his sympathies over (Y/n)’s disappearance, it felt rehearsed, hollow, his words laced with a strange satisfaction she couldn’t quite place.

Zelda took a deep breath, forcing herself to dismiss the unease that coiled in her chest. "Things will turn out okay," she whispered under her breath, repeating the mantra like a spell. Link, was just overly worried, his protective instincts clouding his judgment. He had always been that way, especially when it came to people he cared about. This was all just...a misunderstanding.

But despite the calm she tried to project, the unease remained, simmering beneath her composure.

Several days passed in a haze of diplomacy and pleasantries. The talks concluded, and everything seemed to be falling into place. Yet the uneasy feeling that had plagued Zelda refused to leave, growing stronger with each passing hour.

Now, standing in her chambers, Zelda felt her stomach drop as she stared at the translated letters and documents laid out before her.

Her hands trembled as she traced the familiar writing, the unmistakable references to (Y/n), and she felt her heart pound in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears. The words blurred slightly, but there was no denying their meaning.

She had been wrong.

Across the room, Warriors stood with his arms crossed, his gaze cold and unblinking as he stared down at the documents. His expression, once filled with frustration and warning, had turned to something far more unsettling: icy, controlled fury. Impa stood beside him, her face a mask of stoicism, but even she couldn’t hide the tension in her voice as she reported her own findings from the foreign guards she had interrogated.

Zelda’s breath hitched, and she pressed her hands to the table to steady herself. Her vision swam for a moment, and she wished with everything in her that this wasn’t real. That she had been right all along. That she hadn’t been so very wrong.

But the truth was undeniable, and it hit her like a hammer.

Warriors’ gaze remained fixed on her, cold and unrelenting. There was no anger in his voice when he spoke, but the words cut deeper than any reprimand. "I warned you," he said quietly, his tone almost indifferent, as though he had resigned himself to the inevitability of this moment.

Zelda swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure, but her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at any of them. She had doubted them. And now...

She had been so terribly wrong.

——-

———-

——-

The Duke paced back and forth in his chambers, watching with satisfaction as his servants hurried to pack his belongings. Everything was proceeding as planned. He could already envision his triumphant return home his ship laden with wealth, power, and his soon-to-be bride.

He smiled arrogantly to himself, imagining the rise in his status, the envious looks of the other nobles. Of course, it was only natural. His noble blood, his impeccable lineage, was destined for greatness. The girl, (Y/n), should consider herself blessed to stand beside him as his wife.

"She’ll settle down," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his cuffs with a self-satisfied grin. "Once she realizes her position... she’ll understand how fortunate she is."

His reverie was shattered by the sound of hurried footsteps. One of his guards rushed into the room, eyes wide and face pale with unease. "M-My lord," the guard stammered. "You’re needed in the throne room. The princess has summoned you."

The Duke's mood darkened instantly. "The throne room? What could she possibly need at this hour?" he complained, irritation lacing his voice. He had to retrieve his bride from her chambers. He had far more important matters to attend to, like ensuring his ship was ready for departure.

Before the guard could answer, Impa appeared in the doorway, her expression impassive. She stood tall, unmoved by his complaints. "Your presence is requested by Princess Zelda," she said firmly.

The Duke glared at her, puffing up his chest in indignation. "I am a nobleman, Lady Impa. Surely, whatever the princess wishes can wait until I’ve—"

"It cannot," Impa interrupted, her tone cold and unwavering. "The princess is waiting, and it would be... unwise to keep her waiting any longer."

The Duke’s scowl deepened, but something in Impa's gaze told him there was no room for negotiation. Still, too confident in his own success, he relented with a huff. "Very well, I shall go. But this had better be brief," he muttered as he followed her down the corridors.

When they arrived at the throne room, Princess Zelda was already seated, her face calm and unreadable. The Duke forced a polite smile, bowing low in a show of respect. "Your Highness," he said smoothly, "I hope I haven’t kept you waiting. I understand you are quite busy, especially with my impending departure."

Zelda inclined her head slightly, her tone neutral. "I appreciate you taking the time from your preparations to attend to this matter."

The Duke straightened, his eyes sweeping the room. His heart leapt when he noticed the heroes, the Chain, standing off to the side. For a brief moment, greed flashed across his face. The heroes, known throughout the realms, were looking at him with mild curiosity, but there was no suspicion in their eyes. Perhaps he could further ingratiate himself with them...

He smiled and stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Ah, the heroes of legend. What an honor to meet such esteemed individuals. I am the Duke of—"

"We know who you are," Time interrupted calmly, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. "Just as you know who we are."

The Duke’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, laughing lightly as if Time’s response were a friendly jest. "Of course. Well met, indeed."

Zelda cleared her throat, drawing the Duke's attention back to her. "There have been... rumors circulating as of late," she began, her tone still calm, though a slight edge crept into her voice. "And I would like to clear them up before your departure. An outside perspective may help us resolve this matter."

The Duke’s confidence swelled once more. He could play the part of the nobleman offering his assistance. "Of course, Your Highness. I would be more than happy to offer my insight."

Zelda smiled briefly before her expression turned serious, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Tell me, Duke. Have you abducted the heroes’ companion in an attempt to wed her and elevate your status between our kingdoms?"

The question landed like a blow. The Duke froze, his heart skipping a beat. His mind raced as he struggled to maintain his composure. He forced a smile, though it was far more strained this time. "I-I’m not sure I understand, Your Highness..."

"You know exactly what she means," Warriors spoke up, his voice a low growl as he stepped forward. His blue eyes, cold and piercing, locked onto the Duke. "You know, of course, the identity of our dearest companion, correct?”

The Duke’s heart began to race, but he kept the smile plastered on his face, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Ah, yes, Lady (Y/n)... It is truly terrible how she has gone missing. I had hoped to meet her properly. I have always admired her bravery and strength..."

Warriors’ eyes narrowed, studying him for a long moment before relaxing ever so slightly. "Odd, don’t you think?" he said, his voice deceptively calm. "She vanished without a trace, yet no evidence, no sign of struggle, was found where she was last seen. Nor anywhere else in town. It’s almost as if... someone took great care to ensure there would be no trace."

The Duke felt the sweat begin to form on his brow. He forced a nervous chuckle. "It is certainly strange, yes. But I assure you, I know nothing of her disappearance. Still, I will offer any help I can. Perhaps... my resources might assist in the search?"

Zelda's eyes bore into him, unblinking. "Of course, Duke," she said softly, "you have expressed your concern for her safety many times and it is only right we ask you to assist us before you leave."

The room fell deathly silent. The Duke's smile faltered as the weight of tension hung in the air, his confidence beginning to crack under the pressure.

The Duke’s smile faltered, though he tried to hide it behind a facade of confusion. His voice remained calm, though there was a growing tension in his words. “I truly don’t understand what you are implying. This must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

Warriors scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “I’m sure you hope it’s a misunderstanding,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Zelda.

Zelda sighed, raising her hand slightly. “Enough,” she said, her voice calm but laced with authority. “We all know exactly what this situation is about.”

The Duke blinked, his unease deepening as Zelda’s gaze pierced through him. She took a breath, her tone steady as she spoke. “We know what you’ve done, Duke. You abducted (Y/n), intending to wed her in some twisted scheme to raise your status between our kingdoms.”

Her words hung in the air, the disbelief just barely audible in her tone, though her composure remained flawless. The Duke could feel his heart pounding, but he forced a smile, trying to salvage the situation. “Your Highness, I—”

“She’s not pleased about being taken by the likes of you,” Twilight said, cutting him off. His arms were crossed, his voice low with a simmering anger barely contained.

The Duke’s jaw clenched, his fists trembling as his composure began to slip. His lips curled into a tight sneer, though he tried to maintain a semblance of control. “I will not be spoken to in such a manner!” he spat, his voice rising in pitch. “Princess Zelda, if you even think our kingdoms will ever be allied after this, after I speak to my king, you have another thing coming.”

Warriors, leaning casually against a pillar, glanced at him with a cold smile. “If your homeland is filled with arrogant scum like you, Hyrule will be far better off without an alliance.”

Zelda shot Warriors a sharp look, but he returned it with an icy stare that made her look away, her lips tightening in disapproval.

The Duke was livid now, his face flushed with rage. “You have no proof!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall. “No proof at all! I never imagined I’d be disrespected in such a way, especially by a princess whose own control over her soldiers is so... lacking.”

His insult was veiled, but the implication was clear. He smirked slightly as Zelda narrowed her eyes at him, even as the tension in the room thickened. “I have no interest in assisting anyone who would dare accuse me of such—”

He turned sharply on his heel, preparing to storm out of the throne room, when something solid and unforgiving struck him hard across the face. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, his world spinning as stars exploded in his vision.

He lay on his back, stunned and dazed, his hand pressing against his cheek where he had been struck. A dull ringing filled his ears, and as he groaned, trying to sit up, a voice reached him, cold, furious, and all too familiar.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

His breath hitched in his throat as he slowly lifted his gaze. Standing over him was (Y/n), dressed in her usual tunic and pants, her hand still clenched into a tight fist. She was glaring down at him with an intensity that chilled him to his core.

The Duke’s heart sank as reality crashed down upon him. His plan, his entire scheme, had just fallen apart in a single, humiliating moment. And there, standing before him, was the very woman whose life he had sought to manipulate.

Her eyes blazed with fury as she looked down at him, and for the first time, the Duke felt a deep, gnawing fear that his plan wasn’t going the way he wanted it to.

——

——-

—-

(Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, the cold darkness of the room pressing in around her. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her knees, trying to ground herself, but the pain in her cheek pulsed, a constant reminder of her failed escape. She sniffled, though not out of sadness, her frustration and anger were boiling under the surface. The increased patrols made it impossible to find an opening, and her latest attempt to flee had been met with failure.

Tears welled up again, stinging her eyes, and she bit down on her lip. But these weren’t tears of despair—they were born from sheer rage. Through clenched teeth, she muttered, “I’m going to make him regret taking me… he’s going to pay for this.”

She buried her face in her knees, shaking with fury. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in, and she hadn’t noticed the slight movement along them. Something had slipped through the small crack in the window, moving silently across the shadows. Another presence followed it, a ball of deep green light, small but vibrant, floating into the room like it belonged.

The dark shape continued its crawl along the wall, eyes locked on her from the shadows. The green light slowed, hovering closer to where (Y/n) sat, its soft glow a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness.

(Y/n) remained as she was, struggling to calm herself, talking to no one in particular. “I won’t give up,” she whispered fiercely. “I’ll gouge out that stupid Duke’s eyes if he tries to touch me again.”

The bed shifted beneath her as a weight slowly pressed down next to her. Her heart jumped, and she snapped her head up, prepared to scream at whoever had come in, assuming it was the Duke or one of his guards.

But her voice caught in her throat. There, staring down at her with wide, familiar blue eyes, were three faces she never thought she’d see again.

Legend. Hyrule. Wind.

For a moment, she was frozen, the disbelief crashing over her like a tidal wave. They were just as shocked, their emotions shifting rapidly, but one thing was clear on their faces, horror. Legend's gaze was fixed on her cheek, on the dark bruise marring her skin.

"(Y/n)..." Legend whispered, his voice low, rough with restrained anger. He frowned deeply, his expression hardening. “Was it the Duke? Did he do this to you?”

Hyrule was already lifting a hand toward her, his fingers glowing faintly with healing magic, his touch gentle as he reached for her bruised cheek. Wind, meanwhile, had his pirate’s charm in hand, speaking in a whisper to the others on the other side of the line. The charm was connected to Wild’s slate, allowing the rest of the heroes to hear. “We found her. She’s exactly where I thought she’d be.”

(Y/n) blinked, her mind racing to catch up with what was happening. “H-how…?” she stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Wind, still glancing at her as he spoke into the charm, turned his attention back to her with a soft, apologetic smile. “We never stopped looking. I saw you, just for a second, before the guards took you around the corner and through that door. I could hear you through the door, but... I couldn’t do it alone, not with just Hyrule. We had to pull back and regroup, find the others, plan out how to get you out.”

His expression darkened with sadness as he continued. “We were so close, but we had to retreat. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you sooner.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from anger. She let out a small, shaky laugh, relief flooding through her as the tension of the past few days melted away. “I don’t care,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t care how long it took. You found me.”

Before any of them could react, she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around them tightly, her body shaking with quiet sobs of relief. Legend, Hyrule, and Wind all stilled for a moment before they returned the embrace, each of them murmuring soft apologies and reassurances into her hair.

“You found me!” she said again, her voice a mixture of laughter and tears as she held them close. “You found me.”

She then burst into tears, holding onto them for dear life. The relief of being found so strong it tore down the brave face she had on this whole time.

—-

——-

—-

Once (Y/n) had calmed down, Legend slipped Ravio's bracelet onto his wrist, its power thrumming faintly as it activated. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around her waist and nodded to Wind, who gripped her shoulder tightly. The next second, (Y/n) felt her body shift as they melted into the wall, blending into the stone, now part of the very structure of the building.

The sensation was strange at first, but (Y/n) was too focused on getting out to care.

Legend pulled them along slowly, careful to keep his pace measured. Wind, with his typical energy, seemed uncharacteristically focused, scanning every shadow for potential danger. Above them, Hyrule shifted into his fairy form, his tiny glowing figure darting ahead and around corners, silently signaling to the group when guards were passing or when they needed to halt and wait.

The quiet was tense but necessary. They moved like shadows, avoiding detection by inches as guards patrolled the halls. Every time a guard came near, Hyrule would zip back, his hands waving frantically for them to stay still. The minutes felt like hours, but finally, after navigating the sudden maze of the the guest wing, they slipped out into the night air and made their way back to where the rest of the heroes were waiting.

The moment (Y/n) was led into the small clearing where the group had made a temporary camp beyond the castle walls, it was like a dam had broken. She barely had time to take in the sight of them, Time, Sky, Twilight, Wild, Warriors, Four, before they were all moving toward her, each of them enveloping her in hug after hug.

She cried again, the sheer joy of being back with them, safe. Each hero had the same expression, utter relief and unbridled joy that she was back with them, whole and alive.

They held her as though they couldn’t bear to let go, each of them murmuring apologies, pressing their foreheads against hers, reassuring her over and over that she was safe. She could hardly breathe through the overwhelming flood of emotions.

Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she clung to them, the weight of everything finally settling. “Please… I..I need to get out of these clothes,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “They took my favorite ones when they captured me.”

Before she could say anything more, Sky stepped forward, pulling something from his pouch. It was a pair of familiar pants and a tunic, her clothes. “I made sure to purchase duplicates,” he said softly, a gentle smile on his face. “I always kept a set with me, just in case. I thought… well, I thought you might need them someday.

She stared at him, eyes wide, and without thinking, she blurted out, "I could kiss you for this."

Sky flushed a deep red, his eyes widening for a moment before he coughed into his hand, trying to compose himself. "Just… doing what I can," he muttered with a small smile.

The others, still surrounding her, began to apologize once again, each of them looking torn between guilt and relief. But she shook her head, cutting them off before they could continue.

“We can talk about all that tomorrow,” she said, her voice still shaky but firm. “Right now… I just want to get as far away from that place as possible, use one of you as a hugging pillow, probably cry a bit more.”

She sniffled, “ Just…don’t leave me alone. Please? Not for a second.”

The tension in the air dissipated slightly as the heroes exchanged soft smiles and nods of understanding.

Carefully they led her away from the castle. Leading her towards the inn in town they had paid for rooms in.

That night, they took turns letting her cling to them, none of them leaving her side. They slept in the same room, surrounding her with their warmth and presence, posting themselves by the windows and the door for her peace of mind. For the first time in days, she slept without fear. Falling asleep to arms wrapped around her and kisses pressed on the top of her head.

——

---

——

Morning came slowly, the light creeping into the room as (Y/n) woke with a start, her heart racing. For a split second, she panicked, her mind spinning, believing she was still trapped in that horrible place. But then, an arm wrapped around her, pulling her towards the person, a hand gently rubbing her back.

It was the scent that helped her settle further.

Of hounds and goats, and forests.

She looked up to find Twilight beside her, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The others stirred around her, each of them waking with the same soft, tired smiles. "You’re safe," Twilight murmured quietly, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re with us. Go on, say it back.”

Tears pricked at her eyes again, but she bit them back, taking deep, steadying breaths. "I’m with you," she repeated, grounding herself in the present.

“Atta girl.”

Wild, havjng left while they slept to make breakfast, had whipped up one of her favorite meals for breakfast. The moment the familiar smell hit her nose, her emotions caught up with her, and she burst into tears once more.

The heroes all jumped in panic, worried something had gone wrong. "What happened? Are you okay?" Wild asked, rushing over, his face full of concern.

“I… I didn’t think I would miss this taste,” she had a wobbly smile, laughing through the tears. "But I missed it so much."

They quickly gathered around her, offering her comfort as she cried, until finally, her tears slowed.

They all sighed in relief, and after a few more minutes, (Y/n) calmed down, taking small bites of the meal as they all sat around her.

Once she had eaten and bathed, feeling more like herself for the first time in a month in the clothes Sky had given her, she told them everything. How she was taken, who had done it, and the Duke’s twisted plans for her.

The air around the camp turned cold, their faces darkening with anger. Their rage only deepened when she told them about how the Duke had struck her. Wind and Hyrule looked devastated, their faces filled with guilt as they lowered their eyes.

Before they could utter a word, she raised her voice, firm and unyielding. "Don’t," she said, her eyes blazing. "Don’t you dare blame yourselves. You did everything you could to protect me. I don’t like that I was hit, but I would rather take one hit if it means you found me when you did."

Hyrule, his eyes still brimming with guilt, lifted his hand and gently pressed it against her bruised cheek, sending a soft wave of healing magic through her. There hasn’t been much pain the first place since he first healed it but remaining pain melted away as the last traces of the bruise disappeared. "I’m sorry," he whispered softly.

She leaned into Twilight’s arms as he pulled her against him, wrapping his arm securely around her. She allowed herself to breathe for a moment, the tension slowly leaving her body.

Warriors left the room in silence, his steps heavy but deliberate. As the door closed behind him, the air in the room seemed to lighten, but the tension wasn’t gone, just shifted. Time waited a few moments before following, slipping out into the hallway to find Warriors.

Down the hall, Warriors stood by a large window, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes were fixed on the distant silhouette of the castle, the source of all their troubles. The morning light cast a glow over him, he seemed calm, but Time could see the whites of his knuckles as he gripped his arms, holding himself together as tightly as he could.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Warriors broke the silence, his voice low but full of barely restrained fury. “I want nothing more than to shake Zelda for not believing me. For dismissing my warnings,” he muttered, his jaw clenching. “And the Duke… I want to personally hurt him with my own two hands for what he planned, for what he already did to her.”

Time didn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. He knew that feeling well, the burn of rage simmering beneath the surface. “You’re not wrong to feel that,” Time said finally, his voice calm but understanding. “I feel the same way. I’d like nothing more than to make him pay for what he’s done.”

Warriors’ shoulders relaxed slightly at Time’s words, but the tension still held him rigid. “Then what are we supposed to do with that?” Warriors asked, his voice hoarse with frustration. “That anger, it’s just sitting there, and I can’t get rid of it.”

Time stepped closer, resting a hand on the windowsill beside Warriors. “We use it,” he said firmly. “We focus it on getting justice for (Y/n). This isn’t about satisfying our rage; it’s about making sure she’s never hurt like this again. We take that anger, and we channel it into action. Into planning.”

Warriors stared at the castle a moment longer, then nodded, though his fists remained clenched. “I’ll do that,” he said quietly. “For her.”

Time gave him a brief, approving nod before turning back toward the room. As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll tell her you went to patrol around the building for a moment,” he said. “Take this time to calm yourself before you come back.”

Warriors said nothing, but Time could sense the gratitude in his silence. With a final glance, Time returned to the others, leaving Warriors alone with his thoughts, the faint light of the castle still casting its shadow over the town.

———

——

———

The room was still as her voice faded. (Y/n) slowly lowered her fist, her chest rising and falling as she took a deep breath. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That. Felt really good," she muttered under her breath.

Zelda, standing beside her, let out a short huff of amusement. "I’m sure it was," she said, her tone light, though her eyes stayed fixed on the Duke, who was still staring at (Y/n) in disbelief, his cheek already bruising. The silence stretched, the tension in the room palpable as all eyes turned toward the disgraced nobleman.

Zelda straightened, her expression hardening as she addressed him. "I have several questions, Duke," she began, her voice cold but measured. "How exactly did you think this plan of yours would work? Kidnapping someone of her standing, did you truly believe you could force her hand in marriage and no one would question it?"

The Duke's face twisted, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Warriors stepped forward, cutting him off with his own biting words. "Your plan had more holes than you realized," he said coldly. "The marriage wouldn’t have lasted a moment once it was discovered that she was unwilling. You thought bribing officials and keeping her hidden would fool us forever?" He shook his head, disgust coloring his voice. "It was only a matter of time before it unraveled. You were a fool if you thought otherwise."

The Duke’s face turned a deep shade of red, his fury rising at being called out so plainly. His hands clenched at his sides as he shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "You dare speak to me this way? I demand reparations for this grave insult!" he shouted. "This slander against my name will not—"

Before he could finish, Impa stepped forward from the shadows, her voice calm but lethal. "Slander?" she echoed, her gaze sharp. "I hardly think so, considering what we found in your quarters. Documents, letters, correspondence with bribed officials. You paid them to turn a blind eye, to pretend they hadn’t seen her."

A murmur rippled through the room as the weight of Impa’s words sank in. The Duke’s face paled, his fury giving way to panic as he realized how exposed he truly was. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, his rage crumbling into disbelief.

Warriors’ expression darkened, his icy gaze settling on the Duke. "You’re finished," he said simply, his tone unforgiving. There was no satisfaction in his voice, just a cold, calculating edge.

For a brief moment, Zelda’s face flickered with something close to shame. She quickly masked it before the Duke could notice, turning her attention back to him, her voice steady. "Your actions have consequences, Duke," she said, her tone regal and final. "And you will face them."

Zelda's expression remained steely as she turned her cold gaze back to the Duke. "The officials you bribed will suffer the same fate," she said icily, watching as the color drained from the Duke’s face. "Their involvement in this conspiracy will not go unpunished."

The room seemed to grow colder, tension thick in the air. Zelda shifted her focus to (Y/n), her voice softening, though still serious. "While we all know the answer, (Y/n)," she began, "I must still ask you formally, was it the Duke who orchestrated your abduction with the intent to force you into marriage?"

Without hesitation, (Y/n) lifted her chin and answered firmly, "Yes."

Zelda gave a short nod, her expression one of grim determination. "Then it is decided. I will arrange for the Duke’s immediate departure." Her tone left no room for argument, her words carrying the full weight of her authority as the Princess of Hyrule.

The Duke, suddenly realizing the gravity of his situation, surged to his feet, his face red with fury. "You can’t do this!" he bellowed, his voice shaking with desperation. "I demand—"

Zelda didn’t flinch. She stared down at him, her icy gaze unyielding. "You are no longer welcome within the borders of the Hyrule Kingdom," she declared, her voice as sharp as a blade. "From this moment forward, you are outlawed and forbidden from ever returning to our lands."

The Duke's face flushed a deep crimson as Zelda's words cut through the room. His composure cracked, and he shot to his feet, voice trembling with barely contained fury. "You can't do this!" he bellowed, slamming a fist onto the table before him. "I demand reparations for this insult! I am a noble of considerable standing! You cannot simply throw me out like common filth!"

Zelda, unimpressed, remained calm, though her eyes blazed with cold authority. "Your title means nothing when weighed against your crimes. Hyrule will not be blackmailed by the likes of you."

The Duke’s lip curled in disdain, his tone shifting as he desperately tried to appeal to reason. "This is all a misunderstanding! I was only thinking of the kingdom! A union with someone as... independent as Lady (Y/n) would have strengthened ties. I saw an opportunity to guide her, to help her understand the complexities of noble life. It was for the good of the realm—"

"Forcing someone into marriage is hardly a diplomatic solution," Zelda interrupted, her voice hard.

The Duke ignored her, eyes narrowing as he turned toward (Y/n). "And as for you, Lady (Y/n)," he spat, his words coated with venom, "I suspect you enjoyed the thought of having my power and status. Isn’t that what this is really about? You've must have resented your place in the world, haven't you? You crave more. Why else would you go through such trouble, surrounding yourself with these so-called heroes? If you’d just accepted the offer, none of this would be happening."

(Y/n) stared at him, her anger barely held in check, but before she could retort, the Duke turned his attention to the Chain. His eyes flicked between them as if trying to gauge which one might be swayed by his manipulative words. "And you," he said, adopting a falsely genial tone, "surely you understand how these things work. Men of our stature, of our experience, must sometimes take necessary actions for the greater good. You cannot possibly condone such insolence from one as lowborn as her."

The heroes’ expressions darkened, each of them standing a little straighter, shoulders tensing. But it was Warriors who stepped forward, the calm command of his noble training radiating from him like a sword unsheathed. He inclined his head slightly, addressing the Duke in a measured, almost pleasant tone.

"I must admit, it is a rare thing to witness such a... unique perspective on marriage and nobility," Warriors began, his voice smooth, his smile thin. "But your words, how… interesting. You believe dear (Y/n)’s resistance is due to her desire for power and status, is that correct?"

The Duke, sensing an opportunity, straightened his spine and smiled smugly. "Indeed. Women often dream above their station, after all. It’s in their nature to be ambitious, to latch onto those who can elevate them." He glanced at Zelda, his tone condescending. "Even the most... esteemed among them need guidance."

Warriors nodded thoughtfully, as if in agreement, and the Duke, emboldened, continued, "Exactly! It's the duty of men like us to make the difficult decisions. Women, you see, they don't understand the weight of responsibility that comes with power. They get emotional, irrational—"

"Interesting," Warriors said, cutting him off. His expression hardened, all traces of civility draining from his voice. "Because from where I stand, it seems you're the one whose emotions are driving your actions. Manipulating officials, forging documents, and resorting to brute force to get what you want, sounds like desperation, not diplomacy."

The Duke's smugness faltered. "I... I merely sought to secure what was rightfully mine!"

"You speak of women needing guidance," Warriors continued, his voice turning sharp, eyes flashing with anger at his words, "yet it appears you're the one who needed guidance. You thought coercion, lies, and violence were the answer. And when faced with resistance, you attempted to shame Lady (Y/n) and Her Highness, as though they were the ones at fault for your crimes." He gestured to the rest of the Chain, who stood, eyes burning with disgust. "Do you really think any of us would support you? You’ve proven yourself to be nothing more than a coward."

The Duke, realizing he’d been led into a trap, turned a deep shade of red, his hands shaking. "I-I—how dare you speak to me like this! I won’t be lectured by some glorified soldier—"

Before he could finish, he sneered as he looked at (y/n) who scoffed, the Duke lunged at (Y/n), rage overtaking him. His hand shot out, aimed to strike her, but (Y/n) was ready. She stepped forward, her fist flying before the Duke could lay a finger on her. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back.

(Y/n) didn’t stop there. As the Duke clutched his face in shock, she delivered a swift, brutal kick to his crotch. He doubled over, gasping for air as he collapsed to his knees, groaning in pain.

"I was wrong about the earlier hit," (Y/n) said, glaring down at him, "THAT one felt really good."

Impa, along with the royal guards, stepped forward immediately, seizing the Duke by his arms and dragging him to his feet. "Take him," Zelda commanded, her voice cold and final. "Escort him to retrieve his belongings and see to it that he leaves our kingdom immediately."

The Duke, still doubled over and groaning, could only offer a weak protest as the guards hauled him away. Impa followed silently, her presence a dark shadow looming behind the fallen noble.

Zelda watched them leave, her expression impassive, before turning to (Y/n). "Well done," she said softly, her voice carrying an air of finality. "It seems justice has been served."

Zelda stood in silence for a moment, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her gaze shifted from the door where the Duke had been dragged away, then back to (Y/n). She took a slow breath, and when she spoke, her voice was softer, more uncertain.

“I... owe you an apology,” Zelda said, meeting (Y/n)’s eyes. “For not believing in you or in what Warriors had tried to tell me. I should have listened sooner.”

(Y/n) exhaled slowly, crossing her arms as she considered her words. "Logically, I get it. You were stuck between me and your entire kingdom, and your hands were tied in a lot of ways. I understand that.”

Zelda gave a small nod, hope flickering in her eyes.

“But emotionally,” (Y/n) continued, her voice tightening, “it still hurt. A lot. It’s going to take me a while to forgive you for that. Just because I understand doesn’t mean my emotions fall in line. There was a moment where it felt like it was me against everything, and you were standing with him.”

Zelda’s face fell, though she tried to mask her hurt behind a fragile smile. “I see... I’m sorry that I caused you pain, and I don’t expect your forgiveness right away. I just want you to know that I’m grateful you understand, even if only logically.”

(Y/n) gave a curt nod. “I know I’ll forgive you eventually. But I just need time.”

Zelda bowed her head slightly. "Take all the time you need. Thank you for being honest with me." She hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. Before she passed through the door, she glanced at Warriors, her expression apologetic, almost pleading for some kind of acknowledgment or absolution.

Warriors, however, merely looked back at her with hollow eyes, no anger, no hatred, just a cold, unreadable emptiness. Zelda’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she quickly left without another word.

Once she was gone, the tension in the room broke. Several of the heroes immediately surrounded (Y/n), their moods lightening.

“That punch was incredible,” Wind grinned, throwing a playful jab in the air. “I thought he’d choke on his own teeth!”

"That was a well aimed kick too," Twilight added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Couldn’t have happened to a better man."

Four, less vocal but still visibly pleased, nodded approvingly. “You took him down before he could even blink.”

Legend rolled his eyes. “Pathetic man. Acting all high and mighty just to end up whining and crying like a child.”

(Y/n) laughed, though the tension still lingered in her shoulders. “People like him are everywhere back in my world too. Power hungry, entitled, always thinking they’re owed something.”

“I’d say you handled that pretty well,” Warriors remarked, his tone light but still holding an edge. "Not many can say they’ve landed a hit like that on a duke."

(Y/n) smiled, though there was a weariness in her expression. “I never wanted to be targeted by someone like him. But I guess that’s just how things go sometimes.”

The heroes chuckled, exchanging light banter as they began to shift focus to their plans for the evening. The mood in the room had turned, easing into something far more relaxed. They talked about finding somewhere to get a decent meal, or perhaps just enjoying a quiet night to themselves for once.

But beneath the laughter and casual conversations, there were unspoken glances being passed among the group. Each hero’s eyes flickered with something darker, something more dangerous. They hadn’t forgotten the Duke’s words, nor had they let go of the cold fury building inside them. Each of them was already calculating how they would deal with the Duke once and for all.

(Y/n), blissfully unaware of the tension simmering just below the surface, continued to chat with Wind and Four, oblivious to the silent promise the others were making to themselves.

The Duke wouldn’t escape justice. Not if they had anything to say about it.

And as plans were made with (y/n) to relax for the evening, the true reckoning was yet to come.

——

————

——

The Duke stormed through his lavish quarters, his face twisted in rage. Ornate vases shattered against the walls, and the fine tapestries he'd hung to flaunt his wealth were torn down in fits of fury. His chest heaved as he threw whatever was in reach, shouting to no one in particular.

"That damned woman ruined everything!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the polished wooden walls of the ship. His mind replayed the events of the throne room, how his meticulously crafted plan had fallen apart, how (Y/n) had humiliated him in front princess and the heroes. The memory of her punch, the jeering eyes of the heroes, and Zelda’s cold condemnation burned in his mind like a brand.

His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t care that (Y/n) had been innocent. It didn’t matter that he had tried to force her into a marriage. What mattered was that his plan had failed, and now he was the one who looked like a fool.

“She should have kept her mouth shut!” he seethed, pacing back and forth, his boots clacking against the finely polished floors. “She could have had everything! The wealth, the title, being wed to a man of nobility like myself! What more could she have wanted? A commoner like her, rising to such heights, and she threw it away! Stupid girl. She could have lived in luxury, been pampered for the rest of her life.”

He paused, his pacing halting as he turned to glare out the small window of his chamber, his hands shaking with the force of his grip. “And now, thanks to her, my reputation is in ruins. That cursed woman has cost me everything! The king will surely look down on me. The other nobles will mock me for failing to bring her to heel. Me! They’ll say I’m weak, that I couldn’t handle one woman.”

His voice dropped to a bitter mutter as he resumed his pacing. “It’s all her fault. She is the reason for this disgrace.”

Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, nearly knocking him off his feet. He staggered, slamming into the wall with a sharp grunt, his palm bracing against the wood to keep from falling. The room tilted dangerously for a moment before righting itself, and the Duke cursed under his breath.

“What in the—” he hissed, pushing himself upright. His brow furrowed, and his temper flared anew. “Incompetent fools! Can’t even keep a ship steady on the water! I’ll have the crew flogged for this!”

He stomped toward the door, still muttering under his breath about the ineptitude of the lower class. But just as his hand reached for the door handle, the ship lurched again, this time with even more force. He was thrown backward, his back slamming into the table, scattering papers and broken trinkets everywhere.

“What is going on out there?!” he roared, scrambling to his feet once more. Anger and frustration warred with a growing sense of unease, but he shook it off as he stumbled into the hallway, determined to find the captain and demand an explanation for the erratic movements of the ship.

Whatever was happening, it wasn’t normal.

And the Duke wasn’t prepared for what awaited him on the deck.

The Duke stormed out onto the deck, the chill of the night air biting at his skin. It was dark, the moon hanging low in the sky, shrouded in thick clouds, and the wind whipped through his hair, making his coat billow around him. His frustration boiled over as he squinted into the blackness, seeing no one around.

"Where the hell is everyone?!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the howling wind. "What is the meaning of this reckless sailing?!"

No response came. The only sounds were the crash of the waves against the ship's hull and the eerie groan of the wood beneath his feet. He waited, fists clenched at his sides, his blood pumping hot with rage.

“Answer me, damn you!” he shouted again, his voice cracking slightly with the force of his anger. Still, no one replied. The deck was eerily empty, the shadows stretching longer in the flickering lantern light. He could hear the distant rush of water and feel the ship sway beneath him.

The silence hung like a weight on his chest, growing heavier with each passing second. The Duke muttered under his breath, "Where is everyone?"

As if in response to his words, the ship lurched again, harder than before. The violent motion knocked him off his feet, sending him sprawling onto the deck. His hand smacked painfully against the wood, and he winced, scrambling to his knees with a groan.

“Blast it all!” he cursed, rising shakily. His hand still throbbed, but his pride ached worse. "What is going on?!"

A low voice drifted through the wind, calm and measured, with an edge that sent a chill down the Duke’s spine.

“They’re not on the ship anymore.”

The Duke’s head snapped toward the voice, his eyes widening as he peered up towards the helm. There, silhouetted against the night sky, stood a figure. His stance was casual, one hand resting on the railing, while the other hung loosely at his side. The wind tugged at his blue scarf, but he stood steady, unbothered by the storm raging around him.

The Duke’s breath caught in his throat. He recognized him.

The Hero of Warriors.

Warriors gazed out toward the sea, his expression unreadable, not bothering to acknowledge the Duke’s presence right away. His voice was low, cutting through the night like a knife. “The crew was given a choice.”

The ship rocked again, this time more violently, and the Duke had to reach out to steady himself against the mast. The wind whipped around them, howling through the rigging like a vengeful spirit. Warriors, however, didn’t move, standing firm as if the tempest was nothing more than a gentle breeze.

“They made their choice,” Warriors continued, his tone steady and cold. “Fortunately for them, they didn’t struggle.”

The Duke’s heart raced. His mouth went dry as the full weight of the situation pressed down on him. “What... what do you mean, they didn’t struggle?” he demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite his attempt to sound authoritative.

Warriors finally turned his gaze towards him, blue eyes cold and sharp, cutting through the dark. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, descending the steps from the helm with an eerie calmness that only made the Duke’s fear intensify.

“But you,” Warriors said, voice dropping lower as he drew closer, “you and the men in your pocket? You won’t be given a choice.”

The Duke’s breath hitched, and he took an involuntary step back.

Something heavy landed behind him with a thick, sickening thud. The Duke froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, dread pooling in his stomach, he turned his head. His eyes widened in terror as they landed on the twisted form of one of his personal guards, crumpled grotesquely on the deck. The man’s limbs were bent at unnatural angles, and his lifeless, pain filled eyes stared blankly at the Duke. His throat tightened as bile rose, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

He stumbled backward, his breathing rapid and shallow, before his gaze flicked upwards. A strangled gasp escaped him as he saw several more of his guards, their bodies dangling limply from the crow’s nest, their legs bound, swaying in the wind like gruesome puppets.

Panic gripped him. His chest heaved as he staggered back further, his hands trembling uncontrollably. This wasn’t just some accident or punishment, it was a spectacle. A message.

Up above, on the crow’s nest, a figure stood with their arms raised, weaving through the air. The Duke could see them moving, and as their hands shifted, the wind seemed to respond, whipping through the sails with forceful gusts that made the entire ship creak and groan under the pressure.

“Eager to participate,” came Warriors’ cold, casual voice behind him, drawing the Duke’s attention back. “The sailor was particularly enthusiastic about dealing with you.” Warriors’ gaze remained locked on the Duke, his expression hard as steel. “He came up with the idea to hang your men like that. Thought it’d make an impression on you.”

The Duke swallowed hard, his mouth dry as dust, eyes darting from the swaying bodies to the figure atop the crow’s nest. He recognized him now, the youngest Hero amongst the famed group, the legendary baton of his in hand, controlling the very gales battering the ship.

Wind’s movements were precise, almost rhythmic, and with each shift of his baton, the wind seemed to intensify, as if the very element was singing as it bent to his will. The sight made the Duke’s blood run cold.

Warriors took another step forward, his voice dropping into something colder, more dangerous. “You should thank him. He’s made sure your men won’t feel a thing anymore.” His eyes narrowed. “But you, Duke, you don’t get that mercy.”

The Duke’s knees buckled as he stumbled back again, the gruesome sight above him and the bone-chilling presence of Warriors before him coiling around his heart like a vice.

Warriors stepped forward, the ship groaning under the force of the wind as if the entire vessel knew what was about to unfold. He looked at the Duke, a calm, almost dispassionate gaze fixed on him. "I’m not here to lay a hand on you," he said, his tone as steady as the sea before a storm. "No, sadly that’s not my role tonight."

The Duke swallowed hard, but Warriors continued, his boots tapping lightly on the wooden deck as he descended the stairs, his steps calm despite the chaos surrounding them. "I’m just here to deliver a message from the rest of my companions. Your fate was sealed the moment you decided to target *her*." His voice was sharp, cutting through the howling winds that now whipped fiercely around them. "If you had been smarter, if you’d offered your services to us, covered our tracks when we needed it... perhaps you’d have a chance at redemption."

Warriors stopped, his voice lowering, but still audible over the roaring wind. "But you didn’t. You chose to lay your hand on the one person you never should’ve touched." His words struck like a hammer, and the Duke’s face paled, his confidence unraveling in the face of the calm malice in Warriors' voice.

Panic welled up inside him, and the Duke’s voice trembled as he tried to negotiate. “M-My king will hear about this! This will start a war! You can’t—”

Warriors tilted his head slightly, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “That’s only if you manage to make it back to your king.” As if on cue, the haunting melody of an ocarina began to play, seemingly from nowhere. The Duke’s eyes widened as dark clouds began to roll in, blotting out the moon, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

The ship groaned louder, the wooden beams straining under the building pressure. The Duke felt the deck shudder beneath his feet, a terrifying crack ringing out through the air as though the ship itself was beginning to break apart.

Desperation filled his voice as he stumbled forward, hands shaking. “Wait, please! Sir Hero, you have to see reason! I can—”

But Warriors simply shook his head, watching the Duke with cold, unwavering eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered, the distaste clear in his voice.

Before the Duke could respond, Wind landed beside him with a graceful thud, having swung down from the crow’s nest with his grappling hook. The Duke’s eyes flickered with hope as he latched onto Wind’s arm, clutching him in a last, desperate bid for salvation. "Y-You! You must convince him! Convince him to see reason!"

Wind looked down at the Duke with a wide grin, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Where’s all that noble decorum now, huh? Funny how it disappears the moment you’re cornered.” He wrenched his arm free with little effort, leaving the Duke to stagger back. Without another word, Wind turned and joined Warriors, pulling back out his Wind Waker and preparing to play.

The eerie notes of the baton began to fill the air, and the wind responded, sang to his command, swirling and intensifying as Wind conducted the melody.

Just as the song reached its peak, Warriors, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, glanced back at the Duke. "You know," he said, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, "I don’t think I ever learned your actual name."

The Duke blinked, his mouth opening in disbelief as he tried to stammer out a response.

Warriors shrugged, already turning away. "I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore."

At that moment, Wind’s song reached its climax, and a massive cyclone formed, engulfing Warriors and Wind in a spiraling vortex of air. Within moments, they vanished, whisked away by the magic of the winds, leaving the Duke alone on the rapidly deteriorating ship.

The ship rocked violently, tilting dangerously to one side as the storm fully unleashed its fury. The Duke stumbled, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the sea swell beneath him, the waves rising higher and higher. The ship’s creaking intensified, sharp cracking sounds echoing as the wood began to splinter.

“No… this isn’t happening!” the Duke muttered to himself, shaking his head. “This—this can’t be happening! It’s all just a nightmare…!” His voice rose in pitch as he backed away from the railing, eyes wide with denial. “I’ll be fine! I’ll be fine!”

But the ship lurched again, throwing him to the deck as the storm raged on, the winds howling like a beast hungry for destruction. The vessel groaned one last time, a final, desperate sound as it began to split.

The Duke’s terror reached its breaking point. He scrambled to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and raw with panic. “No! No, no, no! This can’t be happening! Someone, anyone, save me!”

His scream echoed across the stormy sea, but there was no one left to hear him. As the ship gave its final shudder and the waves crashed over the deck, the Duke’s cries were swallowed by the storm, lost in the unforgiving darkness.

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A week or two later, (y/n) sat with a few of the heroes, relaying the latest rumors she’d overheard from the guards and servants. “They say the Duke’s ship was attacked by pirates and destroyed by a massive storm,” she said, looking down at her tea. “Apparently, no one survived.”

The group exchanged surprised glances. Hyrule raised an eyebrow. "Pirates and a storm? That's some poetic justice."

Twilight chuckled. “Ironic, considering the Duke’s ambitions.”

Legend leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He got what he deserved. Swift and final.”

(y/n) sighed, leaning back. “Karma works fast sometimes.” She jumped a little when she felt a pair of hands settle gently on her shoulders. Time had snuck up behind her, his presence calm but strong as ever. He leaned down slightly, his voice low as he murmured, “At least, now, the Duke will never lay a hand on you again.”

She smiled, nodding in agreement. "I’m relieved, but... I can’t help feeling sad that the crew had to die. They were innocent, after all." Her voice softened. “I just wish pirates were like Wind.”

Legend snorted. “Tell him that, and he’ll get an even bigger head than he already has.”

Four piped up with a smirk. “Big head? He’s barely got a head at all with how small he is.”

Twilight laughed, joining in. “Maybe the wind carries his brain away every time he uses his Wind Waker.”

Hyrule, attempting to defend their absent companion, shook his head. “Come on, Wind’s not that bad!”

(y/n) laughed, clearly entertained. “Wind’s a sweetheart! Just because he’s small doesn’t mean he’s brainless.” She grinned at Four and Twilight. "He’s got more brains than you two combined."

The group descended into playful bickering, with (y/n) gleefully holding her own as they teased and defendedd Wind. Time’s hands slipped away from her shoulders, and he stepped back, the sound of her laughter lightening his expression. Witout a word, he turned and quietly left the room, letting their cheerful voices fade behind him.

As he stepped into the corridor, he was greeted by Wild and Sky. Wild gave him a nod. “Warriors and Wind are waiting outside.”

Sky smiled, glancing back at the door. “Sounds like there’s a bit of chaos going on in there. You did good work, Time.”

Time gave his usual half-smile, a faint curve of his lips that spoke volumes. "Appreciate it." He watched as Wild and Sky exchanged grins and headed back into the room, eager to join in the lively spat still unfolding within.

Time continued outside, where Warriors and Wind stood waiting. The breeze was cool, the sky darkening as evening approached. Wind was leaning against the railing, a slight pout on his face, while Warriors stood tall beside him, his arms crossed in quiet satisfaction.

“Good work, both of you,” Time said, his voice steady and appreciative. “The Duke won’t trouble her again.”

“Good work yourself for summoning that storm.” Warriors said with a chuckle.

Wind sighed dramatically. “Legend’s been such a bother ever since I asked for some of his cursed rings. He’s so stingy! Like, come on, it’s just a little curse. I needed them for the guards!”

Warriors chuckled. “You’ve got enough mischief to handle without cursed rings. But honestly, I’m just glad the whole thing with the Duke is over. He was a problem that needed solving.”

There was a pause, Warriors’ face more thoughtful as he asked, “The crew we let go... you think they’ll keep quiet?”

Wind perked up, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, absolutely. We gave them the Duke’s valuables and a hefty amount of rupees. No one’s going to open their mouths about us after that.”

Time nodded. “They would not be lying when they say they were attacked by pirates,” Wind snickers at that. “They never had any loyalty to a man who treated them like tools. Those that did? They were as pathetic as he was.”

Warriors sighed, a small smile forming as he shook his head. “Shame we couldn’t have done more to him. But I suppose watching him crumble in fear was enough.”

Wind stretched, clearly pleased with the outcome. “The fear in his eyes? Priceless.” He grinned wide. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Time nodded again, the shadows in his expression fading as the three of them moved on to simpler topics, small banter about their next steps, where they would go, what else to do now that the Duke was no longer in the picture.

It was as though the events on the Duke’s ship were already distant memories, the murder of the Duke and his men insignificant.

All that mattered now was (y/n), and where next they would go with her by their side.

#yandere linked universe #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #yandere lu #lu wind #lu warriors #lu time #lu twilight #lu artemis #lu legend #rewrite

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