hoperiseswiththemoon-blog

[drabblesandimagines]

Nettle Soup

Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense

--

It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.

It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.

Except it didn’t.

If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 

Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.

You powered on, as you always do.

Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.

“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”

“I recall you had second helpings.”

Oh, he had you there. Think.

“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite a difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”

“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.

“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”

That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”

You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.

You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…

..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.

“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.

“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”

“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”

“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”

Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.

“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”

You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.

A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.

“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”

Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”

Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”

Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…

But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.

You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”

He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.

“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”

You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”

--

You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.

You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.

You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.

You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.

--

Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.

He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.

A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.

White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…

You.

It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.

He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.

The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.

“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.

--

You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...

You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.

“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”

“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.

“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”

“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.

“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.

Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.

The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”

You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.

“You have a fairly high fever.”

“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.

“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”

“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”

He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”

“But-”

“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.

 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll try – I promise.”

He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.

--

You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.

“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”

“Oh.”

“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.

“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”

“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.

“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”

You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.

You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.

You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”

Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”

You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”

“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”

“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”

“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.

“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”

You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.

“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”

“I want a kiss.” You mumble.

He must have misheard. “What was that?”

“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”

“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”

“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”

You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”

He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”

“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.

It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.

“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  

“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”

You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.

--

Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.

He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?

“Is she sick?”

“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”

“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”

Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.

Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”

“Nettles?”

“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”

Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”

“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.

“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”

“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”

“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”

“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”

“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”

“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”

He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.

“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”

“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”

“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”

“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.

“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”

“It matters not-”

“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”

“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  

“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“

“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.

Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.

“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”

Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“

“Wilted ones, they-"

“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”

Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.

“Now, wait a moment!”

--

Halsin won’t look at you.

You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.

You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.

All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.

It’s driving you mad.

Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.

You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.

You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.

“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”

“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”

“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.

“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”

“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.

“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”

“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.

“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”

“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.

He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”

“I must have done something.”

“You are mistaken.”

 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”

“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”

You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”

“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”

“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”

“A deal about what?”

“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.

“A deal about what?”

“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”

You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”

The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”

“Advantage?”

“Of your feverish state.”

“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”

“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”

“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”

He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”

“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”

He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”

“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”

“You… truly wish for it still?”

You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”

A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.

As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.

“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"

You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”

He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.

“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”

“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”

It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.

“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”

“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”

 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[akiranzee]

Hiiiii^^

Do you stilo take request? If yes can I please request Muzan with a newly turned s/o? She just got turned into a demon and is still weak but slowly discovers her Blood Demon Art and makes hin proud

👫 • ° ` — \\ “STAY BY ME”

╰┈➤ PAIRINGS: muzan x demon!y/n ╰┈➤ W/C: 0.5k+ ╰┈➤ CONTAINS: fluff, & muzan is 1,000 while reader is 23. ╰┈➤ A/N: HELPP THIS HAD SO MANY TIMESKIPS SRY😭😭 i was actually braindead for this one

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------------Complete!------------

“y/n, you’re training again?” muzan appears right behind you, sauntering towards you as you exhaled exhaustedly, not bothering to look back at him.

for a demon, you were as weak as a human, hell — maybe even some ordinary humans are stronger than you.

“what did i say about training so late?” muzan’s voice was strict of warning, but it was far from threatening. he grabbed your wrist and tugged you back inside your shared house, but you stubbornly tried to pull away.

“i... i have to get stronger, muzan.” you stammer, “i was so weak that i almost died, but... you saved me and gave me this second chance, and i’m not gonna waste it.”

muzan can only sigh of the determination within your eyes, but he too, was a stubborn man himself. and so, he carried you on his shoulder in one swift motion, and despite your attempts to squirm and wiggle away, his grip on your waist and thighs never wavered.

a soft squeak could be heard as he gently dropped you to the bed, “sleep.” he demanded, and left the bedroom.

~~~~~

months had passed, and you still hadn’t discovered what your blood demon art is, you’re starting to think you don’t even have one.

no matter how many trees you’ve destroyed, no matter how much flesh you ate, no matter how much blood you drank, you were still as fragile as a human.

you wanted to give up, despite your driving force of being helpful to your beloved muzan, you were just a hopeless case of a demon.

months passed once again, and still, your blood demon art had no signs of showing. you thought to the point if it was because your training sessions were so quick, barely above three hours before muzan picks you up and drops you to bed.

so, you decided, that after he does that, you sneak out to the window, making sure to go further into the forest so he wouldn’t hear a single sound of your struggles, cluelessly unknowing about muzan’s ability to still be able to see you.

as you reached the forest, slowly, you closed your eyes and steadied your breathing, as you urged yourself forward and brought all your energy to your fist, which landed heavily on the tree right in front of you.

yet, still, nothing had changed.

thump, thud, thwack. hours had passed, maybe an hour left before the sun had risen. sweat and tears were dripping from your face, frustratedly punching the tree at random.

as a lone tear dripped down from your face, and as a loud yell emerged from your throat, suddenly, a light yellowish light had appeared from your fists, then, the tree had fallen to the ground, in a burnt color and smell.

panting, a soft, sophisticated clapping could be heard from behind you. immediately, you turned around and saw muzan sauntering towards you, “very well, i congratulate you for disobeying me once again, y/n.” the fake, friendly smile had been lost in his handsome face as he said your name, now looking at you with disappointment and dread.

a single sweat had dropped to the side of your temple, and in that swift, single second, did he finally carry you off the ground and on his shoulders.

despite his unfriendly demeanor, it wouldn’t take a genius to see the pride in his smile.

★ • ° ` — BONUS:

“and what did i say again?” a deep voice emerged from the depths of the forest again, but this didn’t scare you as this was a usual occurrence every now and then.

“hehe...” you turned towards the darkness, and slowly then did your beloved emerged from there.

swiftly, for almost a hundredth time, did he pick you off the ground and carried you on his shoulders again.

“muzaaaaaann i almost got it!” you squirmed around, but both of you knew you didn’t want him to let go of you.

“congrats.” he said in pure sarcasm, in a monotone voice with no interest.

as you reached your bedroom once again, muzan tied both your hands together;

“this time for sure, you can’t escape me.”

───────────── ☆ ─────────────

© akiranzee || do not steal, plagiarize, or repost my works without my permission.

[naturesapphic]

I love your latest story about Rhea...Brat tamer Rhea is probably my favorite, and I loved how she handled the situation...Please do more one shots about it (the little brat inside me needs it )🥺

Tamer

Mommy!Rhea ripley x little!fem!reader

Warnings: reader being a brat, age regression, punishments, spanking

“Y/n eat your veggies please. I don’t want to have to keep saying it again.” Rhea pleaded with you but you were being stubborn. “Nu! Nu wan to! It yuckies…” you pouted and whined. Rhea sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before warning you one last time. “This is your last warning princess. Eat your vegetables or I’ll have to punish you.” She said and you shook your head. Rhea sighed and got up and went over to you, grabbing your arm and putting you in the corner. “You stay here for five minutes do you understand?” Rhea instructed you and you pouted, not saying anything to her.

She lightly smacked you on your bottom to get your attention “words baby.” She demanded and you squeaked out a yes. Rhea nodded and went back to the table to finish her food. You on the other hand was feeling brave today and left the corner, going to your room to play. Five minutes have past and Rhea looked behind her to praise you for being good and taking your punishment well but when she looked, she saw a empty corner. She felt herself get angry but calmed down, not wanting to scare you. She got up from the table and went to your play room to find you sitting on the floor coloring with your stuffies.

“Baby…how long have you’ve been in here?” Rhea asked and you shrugged your shoulders, ignoring her question. She sighs angrily and leans down to close your coloring books. “Hey!” You said whining and Rhea gave you a stern glare to be quiet, which this time you did listen. She helped you stand on your fit and walked you into the bedroom. “Sit.” She demanded and you sat at the end of the bed. “When did you leave the corner baby. I know that you know.” She asked and you grew whiny and irritated again. “Don’t Nu! Didn’t wan to bes in da corners!” You exclaimed and rhea looked at you blankly.

Rhea walked over to you and grabbed your face between her fingers and looked deep into your eyes. “You better start telling me the truth little girl. Don’t make me spank it out of you.” She threatened and you gave her a shaky smirk, wanting to test her. “You are such a fucking brat.” She spat and sat on the bed and moved you over her lap. She pulled down your shorts and underwear in one swift motion. “You better start counting little one.” She grunted and started spanking you. By the end of it you were crying and begging for her to stop. She did about twenty in total and you only messed up once. Rhea pulled you up and sat you down gently on her lap, softly rubbing your red bottom as you cry in her neck.

“Do you know why I had to punish you?” She asked and you didn’t reply, still crying in her neck. Her heart broke to hear your cries. “I did it because you were not being my good girl that I know you are. You kept disrespecting and disobeying me and I won’t have that.” She explained to you and soon enough all Rhea could hear was little sniffles coming out of you. She stood up with you in her arms and walked to the bathroom. She got some cream to help with the redness and pain on your ass. Rhea started applying it all over your bum and you let out little whimpers here and there but Rhea was extremely gentle with you. She kept you in her arms when she put the cream away and carried you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen again.

“How about this. You eat most of your veggies and you and me will go out to get your favorite ice cream. How about that princess?” She tried to reason with you and you stilled whined a bit but nodded your head yes anyway. After a few minutes you had ate most of your veggies and Rhea was beaming with pride. “Good job baby! Mommy is so proud of you! Let’s get dressed and we’ll go get some ice cream.” She explained and you clapped your hands happily as y’all went upstairs to get dressed. The two of you came back down and went outside to rheas truck where she put you in the backseat and buckled you into your booster seat. The rest of the night was you and Rhea eating your ice cream outside of the place and then driving home to cuddle until the two of you went to sleep.

A/n: I hope this is what you wanted anon and I hope the rest of you enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[heyiwrotesomethings]

salut j'espère que vous allez bien j'adore vos histoires de lecteur shinobu x et je voulais vous demander si vous pouviez faire une histoire de lecteur shinobu x fem où kanae n'est pas mort et shinobu a son vrai caractère et que pendant l'histoire, shinobu et le lecteur sa rivale pour voir qui est le meilleur tueur de démons ou juste le meilleur dans l'ensemble, qu'ils se taquinent constamment mais que shinobu a toujours une longueur d'avance sur le lecteur et que d'une manière ou d'une autre ils finissent en couple à la fin (merci donc beaucoup si vous acceptez ma demande et sachez que vous êtes mon écrivain shinobu préféré <3)

You’re My (Sparring) Partner

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: I don’t know any French so I hope Google Translate didn’t let us down too bad. Quick plot introduction: Kanae lived, Shinobu’s her good ol’ grouchy self, and she and reader are always competing to see who is better. Some bumps in the path before they finally end up together because Shinobu is stubborn. Thank you for the request. Espérons que vous apprécierez! Word Count: 4,340

“I killed two demons last night.” (Y/n) shared with a bit of pride over breakfast that morning, subtlety looking over the rim of her cup at Shinobu as she drank, before putting the cup back down with a quiet click. “I made very clean cuts too, that’s what you said, right? Kanae-sama?”

A quiet laugh left Kanae’s lips before she nodded, “Yes, you certainly are improving. I’m very proud.”

Shinobu rolled her eyes, her teeth lightly grinding together before she added, “Well my record in one night is four. Two isn’t that impressive.”

“Oh yeah, well—“

“Shinobu, (Y/n), please no bickering at the table. It’s a little early to be playing this game, don’t you think?” Kanae sighed.

“It’s not a game, Neesan.” Shinobu refuted, matching (Y/n)’s glare.

This rivalry had been going on for years. Ever since Shinobu finally accepted that she wasn’t fit for Flower Breathing and decided to cultivate her own breathing style and (Y/n) had wormed her way in to train under Kanae as a Tsuguko, the spot that should have been Shinobu’s by all accounts. It had left the girl bitter and looking for just about any excuse to show (Y/n) how much better she was than her. Even now as a Hashira herself, she still hadn’t been able to quite let go of that initial disappointment and start a new chapter.

Of course, (Y/n) didn’t take Shinobu’s challenges sitting down. She had earned her spot within the Butterfly Estate, but the only one who remained unconvinced was the one person she wanted to impress almost more than the Flower Hashira herself.

Ever since (Y/n) had met Shinobu, she hadn’t thought of her as anything short of brilliant. She took every curve ball life had thrown her way and found a way to hit a home run every time. Not able to decapitate demons, she made a special poison that could kill them anyway. Not suited for the more mainstream breathing techniques, she created her own. Not to mention her speed and mastery over Total Concentration Breathing Constant was nothing to sneeze at either.

To be acknowledged and accepted by Shinobu was all she really wanted and she was willing to do anything to prove her worth. She would compete with Shinobu until she earned her respect.

“Yes, it’s a very serious matter, Master.” (Y/n) agreed, smirking at Shinobu’s scowl.

“Well then take it outside. You are making poor Kanao nervous and I’m sure the other girls don’t appreciate the hostility brewing between you two either.” Kanae said, motioning to the group of girls around the table who did indeed just wanted to eat their breakfast in peace.

“Fine.” Shinobu’s hands slapped against the table as she got up. “I could go for a spar, how about you? Or are you still too sleepy from being up past your bedtime?”

“I recall you waiting up to greet me last night. So I’m sure we have the same advantage.”

“As if I was waiting for you. I had questions for my sister about our medicinal ingredient supply shipments.”

They bickered and taunted each other, even nudging and shoving each other as they made their way out the door. Kanae gave another tired sigh.

“Why can’t those two just get along?”

***

Shinobu flung a wooden sword at (Y/n) who was luckily paying enough attention to catch it before it smacked her in the face and quick enough to immediately retaliate.

“Readysetgo!” Thwack!

It was a dirty tactic to begin a spar without allowing enough time to at least get in a proper starting stance, but Shinobu had anticipated the swipe and blocked it easily.

“Can’t even catch me off guard properly.” Shinobu taunted.

“Who said I trying to?” (Y/n) asked with faux innocence, blocking Shinobu’s counter strike, “I gave you fair warning. Did you feel like I was trying to catch you off guard? In that case, maybe I did catch you a bit off guard after all. My apologies.”

Shinobu sneered, then jumped back. With the weight behind Shinobu’s block gone, (Y/n) was suddenly pushing back against nothing but air. She stumbled forward as Shinobu advanced, turning sharply behind her, wooden sword already swinging towards its intended target.

(Y/n) had been burned by that little maneuver once before and she wasn’t going to give Shinobu the satisfaction of a second. She continued to fall forward, kicking her legs up into the air when her hands came in contact with the ground. She could feel the displacement of air roll over her back, Shinobu had followed through with her strike and missed!

With all the force (Y/n) could muster, she torpedoed on her palms, attempting to catch Shinobu’s face with her foot, but Shinobu quickly cocked her head to the side and dropped her sword to the ground so she could brace her hands at (Y/n)’s ankle and knee. With a smirk, she twisted (Y/n)’s leg, and kicked out (Y/n)’s arms from under her, forcing her to the ground completely.

Before (Y/n) could attempt to scramble to her feet, Shinobu planted her foot firmly to the center of her back.

“That was an entertaining little display.” Shinobu cooed. “Where did you pick that up from? Weird boar boy?”

“Just get off of me already.” (Y/n) groused, she attempted to hit Shinobu’s ankle, but was not quite flexible enough to do more than brush against the offending foot.

“I didn’t hear you say you concede.” Shinobu knelt down, one knee in the dirt by (Y/n)’s side, foot still on the disgruntled Tsuguko’s back. She cupped a hand around her ear and got in real close, “Say it nice and loud so I can hear you, okay?”

So humiliating! (Y/n) stormed through the mansion after her devastating defeat to lick her wounds in peace. Shinobu always seemed to be one step ahead of her! Of course she was a Hashira, more skilled and practiced than (Y/n) was, but as a Tsuguko to the Flower Hashira, she should be able to last more than five minutes with Shinobu in a spar!

“Hey, everything okay in there?” Kanae had knocked on the door, “I see Shinobu is gloating again.”

(Y/n) opened the door to let Kanae in. Then she flooped back down on her bed and sighed.

“Master, please don’t take this the wrong way, but can’t you train me any harder? Or at least teach me all of your sister’s weaknesses?”

Kanae giggled, taking a seat on the edge of (Y/n)’s bed, “I don’t think that would be very fair. She would be angry with me for weeks, maybe longer. She can sure hold a grudge. As for training, I can only teach you so much… especially now that I have these Mount Natagumo spider slayers that are in need of a rigorous medication program in order to return to normal. I just don’t have the time to train you any more strenuously than I already do.”

“Oh…” though (Y/n) was already laying flat against the bed, she somehow seemed to sink further with her mounting disappointment.

“But there is something we could possibly do while Shinobu and I work on healing the spider slayers.”

(Y/n) perked up a bit, “What?”

“Mitsuri, the new Love Hashira. We got to become aquatinted at the last meeting. She’s a very sweet girl. It would probably do you both some good to train together. It would give Mitsuri a jumpstart on teaching experience and you would get tutelage from another Hashira. Seems like a win-win, doesn’t it?”

“Can you really set that up, Kanae-sama?” (Y/n) was sitting up now, much more excited.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll write her a letter an ask her if she’s busy. She can stay with us for a couple of days and over see your training until the spider slayers are more obviously on the mend.”

“Thank you, Kanae-sama!”

Things might just start looking up! She’d show Shinobu just how strong she could become!

***

Mitsuri was very sweet, almost too sweet. If (Y/n) wasn’t such a well-disciplined Tsuguko, they wouldn’t have gotten anything done. But for as green of a Hashira as Mitsuri was, she was incredibly strong! Maybe even more so than Kanae. Her actual teaching could use work, but (Y/n) felt like she was learning a lot and it was only the first day of three that Mitsuri would be available. She was going to really give Shinobu a run for her money the next time they decided to cross swords. Speaking of,

“Kanroji-san, what are you doing here?” Shinobu had happened by an open door and heard (Y/n) laughing, looking up from the stack of patient files she had in her arms, she had not expected to find her sparring with Mitsuri of all people.

“Oh, hi Shinobu!” Mitsuri loosened her hold on (Y/n) to wave at Shinobu, “Kanae asked me to help pick up on (Y/n)’s training while you guys are working hard with all of your new patients. I’d say things are going pretty well so far!”

“Surprise attack!” (Y/n) tried to pull Mitsuri to the ground. Mitsuri bent forward a little bit, but mostly stood her ground.

“Hey!” Mitsuri giggled, quickly switching the hold to put (Y/n) on the ropes instead, tickling (Y/n)’s sides to make her laugh and beg for mercy.

Shinobu wasn’t sure what it was, but she was not a fan of this new development. (Y/n) never laughed with her like that when they sparred… and why would she! Shinobu didn’t give a damn beyond adding another win to the score board. But they did look like they were having fun… getting along so quickly after only just meeting too… ARGH!

“Try not to go too hard on (Y/n), Kanroji-san. She’s fragile.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu an annoyed look, “I am not. Kanroji-san can be as rough with me as she needs to be if I’m ever going to be a Hashira one day too.”

“That’ll be the day, won’t it?” Shinobu grumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll make a great Hashira one day (Y/n)! It would be so nice to get to see you more often.” Mitsuri beamed.

“That would be great!”

“That would be great.” Shinobu mocked under her breath as she walked away, the sound of the other girls laughter grating against her ears.

When she re-entered the infirmary and slammed the papers down on the table, Kanae looked up and observed her sister.

“What has you all broody?”

“I’m not broody.”

“If you say so…”

Kanae refocused her attention to the wiggly spider slayer in her arms. It was hard getting them to swallow their medication without giving them her full attention.

“Why didn’t you ask me to help (Y/n) with her training?” Shinobu suddenly spoke up after a few minutes.

“Hm? I figured you would rather do literally anything else. Besides, you’re helping me take care of all these new patients… Did you want to help (Y/n)?”

“No.” Shinobu answered hurriedly. “I just don’t think she and Mitsuri are taking the training seriously is all.”

Kanae looked at Shinobu from the corner of her eye and took note of her disgruntled expression. Such a cute, pouty frown. Kanae moved in to the next patient, a smile growing across her face as a sense of clarity came over her. She wondered just how long her stubborn little sister could hold out before her jealousy overtakes her pride.

Apparently the very same day.

“Kanroji-san, her stance is all wrong, see?” Shinobu had butted in between the two of them after Kanae had sent her off to eat lunch, but of course she could not simply walk past Mitsuri and (Y/n) when she had noticed (Y/n) stance was so blatantly off-balance.

“Oh! I guess you’re right Shinobu.” Mitsuri agreed.

“Stand with your feet further apart.” Shinobu mumbled, kicking (Y/n)’s foot further out, then twisting (Y/n)’s waist and adjusting the way she held her arms up and her grip around the practice sword.

Honestly, (Y/n)‘s stance was perfectly acceptable without Shinobu’s knit picking, but Shinobu had to find some excuse to put space between (Y/n) and Mitsuri. Why that was? She didn’t dwell on an answer.

“There, you feel that pull?” Shinobu asked and (Y/n) blinked back to life, having had gone somewhere else as Shinobu had gently pushed her body into place.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I feel it.”

“Good.”

Shinobu looked for every opportunity she could to step in. Only stopping when Kanae came looking for her and scolded her for letting Aoi’s lunch for her grow cold. She did end up eating with (Y/n) and Mitsuri though, which was good because… well, just because!

She squeezed between them at the table, getting gradually more annoyed as they talked over her head. She did manage to find one way to get (Y/n) to remember she was sitting right beside her.

“You have rice on your face.”

She reached out to brush her thumb over (Y/n)’s chin, coming away with a couple grains of rice.

(Y/n) blinked and subconsciously lifted her hand to her chin where her skin still tingled from Shinobu’s brief touch, “Oh… thanks.”

“You two are so cute!” Mitsuri sighed dreamily, “How long have you guys been together?”

Both (Y/n) and Shinobu’s heads snapped towards Mitsuri.

“We are not together!” They shouted in unison, startling Mitsuri.

“Ehh, really? I could have sworn… Just they way you two acted around each other today, I thought you might be a couple. I’m sorry if I made it awkward.”

“I’d rather cut off my own hands.” Shinobu scoffed, then she was startled by a heavy thump beside her as (Y/n)’s fists hit the table.

“Do you really have to go that far?” (Y/n) hissed, shooting up to her feet, “I’m so sorry the idea of being with me sounds so awful to you that you’d rather mutilate yourself. If you really hate me that much, then why don’t you leave me the fuck alone!”

“Well, you don’t exactly make it easy, do you?” Shinobu snapped back before she could think better of it, as was the risk being as hotheaded as she tended to be. She regretted it very soon after.

“All I ever wanted was for you to acknowledge me, to praise me just once instead of shooting me down. I thought competing with you was the only way to make you see me, but it only seemed to make things worse between us.”

She quickly rubbed beneath her eyes to catch any stupid tears that slipped over her resolve.

“Well, I know now that it will never happen so I’ll stay out of your way as long as you stay out of mine. And that means quit budging in on my training with Mitsuri!”

(Y/n) took Mitsuri by the arm and Mitsuri gave Shinobu an apologetic look, taking the rest of her plate with her as (Y/n) dragged her off.

“That probably couldn’t have gone worse if you tried.”

Shinobu snapped her attention to the other set of doors that lead outside. They slid open to reveal Kanae, who simply waltzed in as if she hadn’t been eavesdropping pretty much the whole time.

“What does it matter?” Shinobu spoke sharply, “I’ll finally have some peace around here.”

“You could have had a perfectly peaceful three days while Mitsuri was keeping her busy, but you couldn’t even last one without her.”

“Oh great, you thought we liked each other too, didn’t you?”

“If you would stop getting in your own way for a minute, you’d know it’s true. You two have always been trying to prove yourself to each other in some way, just not always the best way. Like it or not, you are each other’s drive to do better.”

Shinobu opened her mouth to argue, but Kanae have gave her a warning look before continuing on,

“I hope you two will realize your being silly and work this out before too long. If anyone here really needs peace from your overstayed rivalry, it’s me,” she teasingly ruffled Shinobu’s hair, “For now, I need your help back in the infirmary.”

With an annoyed grunt, Shinobu followed Kanae back to the infirmary. All the while she ranted within her mind. Everyone in this mansion was delusional. The only feelings she had for (Y/n) were ones of annoyance. But when she passed by the open door near the infirmary again and saw (Y/n) and Mitsuri cuddled up together in the grass, her heart betrayed her mind by pounding against her chest. Almost as if to burst right between her ribs and flop in the grass until it finally reached its destination. If Shinobu wouldn’t go to (Y/n), it would reach her on its own.

“Keep walking, Shinobu~” Kanae lightly warned, “If you want your peace, you must leave them be.”

Shinobu grit her teeth and continued off to the infirmary despite her heart’s protests. This is what she wanted, her heart would just have to deal with it.

***

The healing of the spider slayers was going much slower than anticipated. To Shinobu’s very much internal dismay, Kanae had asked Mitsuri if she could stay just a few days more, maybe a whole other week. For a moment, Shinobu thought things would finally go back to normal because Mitsuri simply couldn’t get anymore time away, but then Kanae suggested she take (Y/n) with her to keep training her until the spider slayers were closer to being cured.

To Shinobu’s dismay, both Mitsuri and (Y/n) found the idea favorable and the left together sometime that afternoon when Shinobu was busy making more stupid spider medicine.

“You seem to be grinding those herbs extra hard,” Kanae had noted, “I’m sorry, had I known you wanted to see them off, I would have come to get you, but you wouldn’t want to miss out on any peace and quiet, wouldn’t you?”

Damn her, Shinobu thought. It didn’t matter if she got to see (Y/n) off or not. She’d be back before she knew it, and in a way she was right, but not in the way she wanted to be.

Only two nights after (Y/n) had left with Mitsuri, she was being carried back in by the frantic Hashira that had taken her, bloody and unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry, Kanae!” Mitsuri cried, “I got distracted during the mission and didn’t notice right away that (Y/n) had been lured into an ambush pursuing a fleeing demon. She fought them off as long as she could before I could get to her, but… I feel awful! I didn’t know what to do, will she be okay?”

“Sit, Mitsuri,” Kanae soothed, “you got her here as fast as you could, that’s what matters. Let me take it from here—“

Shinobu pushed passed Kanae to (Y/n)’s cot, “This isn’t the time for talk, we need to get to work, now!” She demanded angrily.

“Shinobu,” Kanae warned, “if you want to help, you have to calm down. You won’t do her any good if you let your brashness cut corners.”

Shinobu continued to peer down at (Y/n)’s battered body and try as she might to quiet her boiling rage to a simmer, she could not. She was furious. Furious at the demons, even Kanae and Mitsuri to a lesser extent, but most of all she felt angry with herself. If she wasn’t so attached to her pride and stubbornness, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe her last words to (Y/n) wouldn’t have been so harsh. What if she died before Shinobu could apologize?

“Shinobu, leave.” Kanae made the difficult call upon seeing her sister’s wide-eyed distress, but Shinobu shook her head, refusing to let go of (Y/n)’s hand.

Kanae exhaled sharply, there was no time for this. She wasn’t going to lose her Tsuguko because of her sister’s guilty hovering.

“Shinobu,” the harsh tone made Shinobu flinch, “out. I promise to let you back in once I’ve administered proper care. Mitsuri, take her out with you please.”

Shinobu numbly allowed Mitsuri to lead her away, keeping her eyes on (Y/n) until a Kakushi closed the door behind them. Unwilling to stray any further, Shinobu slid to the ground opposite the infirmary, and waited. Straining her hearing for any hint of what was going on beyond the door.

“You care about her a lot,” Mitsuri spoke up softly after a few long minutes of silence, “why haven’t you told her?”

If that wasn’t the million dollar question… Shinobu kept silent.

“Well, don’t worry. Kanae is going to get her all fixed up and then you can tell her all the things you wanted to say, okay?”

What did Mitsuri know? Shinobu thought bitterly. Shinobu saw that gash on her forehead, that deep wound in her belly, no one could say with one hundred percent certainty that (Y/n) would recover from this.

“You should practice what you want to say.” Mitsuri said, hoping to distract Shinobu from her dark thoughts, “I’ll talk through it with you, if you want. I’m rooting for you guys.”

Part of Shinobu wanted to tell Mitsuri to mind her own business, but she really did need the help if she was going to go through with this properly. So she took a deep breath, and took a step in the right direction.

When Kanae came out of the infirmary hours later, Shinobu and Mitsuri rocketed up from the floor and before they could bombard Kanae with questions, she held up her hands and said,

“She’s going to be okay. You can go see for yourselves.”

And when Shinobu rushed to (Y/n)’s side, she definitely did look better already. Blood washed away, wounds expertly stitched, clean bandages and clothes. Shinobu hunkered down in the chair by her bedside, scooting it as close to the bed as she could before taking (Y/n)’s hand and holding between her own.

Kanae smiled and shook her head. It was a very rude awakening, but at the very least Shinobu was heading in the right direction now. She went to rest knowing (Y/n) would be well looked after.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, the harsh light burned her eyes so she quickly shut them as soon as she opened them. Her body felt heavy and stiff. She couldn’t even wiggle her fingers. Well, none on her left hand anyway. She couldn’t remember the demons doing anything that would warrant a cast over her hand, but there was too much going on to process every injury fully, she imagined. It was weird how warm and sweaty the cast had made her hand though. It was a little uncomfortable.

(Y/n) tried to flip to her side instead of laying flat on her back, but found she was too weak to do it and groaned quietly. The ‘cast’ around her hand constricted in a light squeeze and a soft voice hushed her. Kanae, she assumed. Kanae must be with her, holding her hand. That made sense. Oh, her poor Master. It must have been hard to see her like that.

She tried to open her eyes again, blinking several times before she could even hold a squint. Though her vision was still a bit blurry, it was clearly not Kanae by her bedside. No, it was… was it really Shinobu?

“(Y/n), you’re awake.” Shinobu sounded so relieved that (Y/n) wasn’t so sure she had actually woken up.

“You’re holding my hand.” She blurted. No filter with her head injury apparently.

“Do you want me to stop?” Shinobu asked awkwardly, no bite whatsoever, nor true embarrassment at getting caught. She just seemed… shy, maybe a little uncertain.

“No… it’s fine.” Though she would have liked to air out her hand a little, she didn’t want to risk Shinobu getting offended and breaking whatever spell had come over her.

“I, I have a lot I need to say to you. Will you hear me out?”

Though (Y/n) was nervous, she nodded, managing to free her fingers to wrap them over Shinobu’s hand that cradled her own beneath the other. Shinobu took in a shaky breath, than began as she and Mitsuri had practiced.

***

One Month Later

“You aren’t back to full strength yet, don’t be so discouraged.” Shinobu spoke softly to (Y/n) as she helped her up from the cushy training room floor.

“But still,” (Y/n) pouted, hugging Shinobu and looking for further comfort once she was on her feet again, “I wanna beat you just once, is that so much to ask for?”

“Put those puppy eyes away. We both know you wouldn’t be satisfied if I just let you win.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back.

“No, it would still be satisfying. The only real reason you won’t let me win is because you’re too proud of your flawless record of beating me to the ground.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s truuue.” (Y/n) nuzzled her nose into Shinobu’s neck, making her laugh, “kiss me and make me feel better?”

“I guess I can give you that much.”

Shinobu coaxed (Y/n)’s face out of her neck with her hands on either side of her face and brought her in for kiss. She had only meant for it to be a short one, but (Y/n) had made it difficult to want to pull away, not that Shinobu really minded all that much. Not until she found herself suddenly pinned to the ground at least.

“I win!” (Y/n) grinned.

“No you don’t,” Shinobu frowned, “this wasn’t a match.”

“I didn’t actually say I forfeited, remember? This match is still on, baby!”

“Then my position still stands, you haven’t won anything yet,” Shinobu struggled against (Y/n)’s hold until she was nearly red in the face, but still she didn’t budge, “don’t you know cheaters never prosper?”

“All is fair in love and war, my dearest Shinobu.” (Y/n) giggled. “Are you gonna forfeit yet?”

Shinobu snuck her hands up (Y/n)’s back, making her shiver, she chuckled darkly, the same competitive glint in her eyes as always as she pulled the her girlfriend down to her lips.

“You wish.”

[p-artsypants]

No, You Go First (13) The Wait

The Chief of Berk was a headstrong viking, stubborn and full of pride, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep his village safe. But for a moment, he puts that aside, and listens to his son. In which Hiccup convinces his dad not to make him go through Dragon Training, and the subsequent changes that follow.

Ao3 | FF.net

“To the victor goes the spoils,” Gobber chuckled. 

“If by spoils, you mean a trip to Gothi’s then yaaayy…” Hiccup drawled. 

He and Snotlout were both in Gothi’s hut, actually. Snotlout was reeling with a concussion, and was first in line for treatment, while Hiccup sat nearby, holding a rag to his nose while Gobber held another over his eyebrow. 

“Why is Astrid retrieving a Deadly Nadder spine again?” Hiccup asked. “I think I was fading in and out of consciousness when you gave instructions.” 

“That’s simple, lad. Nadder spines have venom in them that paralyzes their prey. But just a little bit rubbed on the skin has a numbing quality. And since you need a whole lot of stitches, it’s better to be numbed. Makes you flinch less.” 

“Especially if it’s my face,” Hiccup supposed. 

“I coulda won ya know,” Snotlout drawled. “I let you win though, cause you needed it. I’m a good person like that.” 

“Yes Snotlout, you probably should have won. But you had no idea I was going to knock you out with that hit. Don’t act like you threw the match.” 

“I almost prevented myself from being knocked out, but I didn’t.” 

“You’re full of shit.” 

“So’s your mom.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” 

“Oh yeah, well so’s your mom!” 

“Hiccup lad, the boy has a concussion, he’s even more dumb than on the average.” 

“I’ll drink to that!” Snotlout cheered, holding up a roll of bandages like a cup. 

Hiccup rolled his eyes, the action actually hurting. As Gothi tended to Snotlout, making him a tea to help with his brain swelling, Hiccup sat patiently and waited, trying not to let the throbbing in his face bother him. 

“I’m back,” Astrid announced, several Nadder spines in her arms. 

“Wow lass! Ya pick the Nadder clean?” 

Astrid chuckled, “I picked the impaled tree clean.” She handed the spines off. 

They watched as Gothi ran a knife down the sides of the spine, against the grain. A little gel beaded up on the surface, and she spread it on Hiccup’s face like butter. 

He winced at first, but soon the pain ebbed, and disappeared. Then all feeling, and he felt very droopy, and his mouth felt puffy. 

Astrid took over Gobber’s spot as bandage holder, while Gobber watched Snotlout. 

Gothi worked diligently to make sure the bridge of Hiccup’s nose was straight, and then she got to work stitching up the cuts on his forehead and cheek. 

Cleaned of blood, Hiccup at least started to look more normal. The cut on his lip was still blood red, but didn’t bleed. Almost every inch of his face was dotted with abrasions or bruised. His eyes were bloodshot, and surrounded by swollen purple bags. 

Astrid stared at him, sadly, before kissing his cheek. “You’re a mess.” 

“I feel like it,” he said, a line of drool coming out of his mouth. “Whoops.” 

She dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief. “At least it’s not blood. You spat a lot out. I worried you had bitten your tongue.” 

“I don’t think so. I think it all came from my nose.” 

Gothi gave instructions in the dirt, while Gobber translated. “Keep the wounds clean. Get plenty of rest and drink water. He can have some of this tea if the pain comes back. The Nadder poison should last 24 hours.” 

That was fine with Hiccup. This awkward numbing feeling was preferable to the hot ache from the wounds. 

Astrid took his hand and led him out of Gothi’s house. 

He blinked blearily as they walked. “I wanna see Toothless,” he demanded. 

Astrid actually barked a laugh. “Uh, no. No, you’re going home, and you’re going to rest. Your parents will make sure Toothless is fed and scratched. You’ve been awake since the crack of dawn and you’re dealing with blood loss.” 

She expected him to protest a little. Maybe a whiny little childish tantrum. But no. He just said, “‘Kay.” 

Smiling, Astrid steered him back to their shared home. Once inside, he tottered on his feet. “Okay yeah, maybe I’m…not so full of energy. Not for that walk.” 

She led him over to the table and had him sit. “My mom brought dinner over for us earlier. You weren’t home, but I saved plenty for you.” 

The house smelled delicious, a scent of meat cooking over the fire, mixed with herbs and spices. His stomach rumbled, hungry and empty, long having digested that roll he had for breakfast. 

Astrid served up the bowl and put it in front of him. 

“I’ll be right back,” she took up the two large buckets used to fill the tub. “I’m going to draw you a bath.” 

Hiccup actually felt his eyes get a little misty. “You don’t have to.” 

“I want to,” she declared, before leaving the house. 

He didn’t have the energy to protest, and the food just smelled so good. 

So he ate his dinner quietly, more food falling out of his numbed mouth than he wanted. 

Then he was done and Astrid was escorting him to his bath, and helping him out of his clothes. He didn’t even mind. 

Did he also have a concussion?

Astrid winced, and he looked at her in concern. She was looking at him though, her face screwed up. 

“What?” 

“I thought your worst injuries were on your face, but your ribs are all bruised.” She gently prodded his side. “Does that hurt?” 

He winced. “Yeah.” 

“I was worried about that. Here, let’s get you in the tub. I put some healing salts I use after tough training. It should help with sore muscles.” 

Carefully, he stepped in the steamy water, the heat and slight lavender scent making his still tense muscles start to uncoil. He laid back, the water coming up to his collarbone. He involuntarily moaned. 

“Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect.” 

Astrid sighed. “Good.” 

Hiccup leaned his head back and closed his eyes, too tired to do anything else. He worried slightly that he’d fall asleep in the tub, but at least Astrid was around. 

Speaking of Astrid, he heard her scoot the little step stool closer and ring out a rag. A moment later, the cool rag was placed over his eyes, soothing the angry bruising and swelling there. 

Then, Astrid took his hands, and began to clean his fingernails. 

“What are you doing?” He murmured. 

“I have to sleep next to you, and your nails are all full of dirt and Snotlout’s blood. Completely gross.” 

“That’s surprisingly…tender of you.” 

“Well, don’t get used to it.” 

After she did his nails, she washed his hair, scrubbing the dust and gore away. 

“This is really really nice, you know, you could open a spa.” 

Astrid delicately moved her arms down to his shoulders and started to massage. “Oh really?” 

“Yeaaahhhh…” he moaned, completely in pleasure. 

Astrid then dug her fingers into what meat there was in his boney shoulders and kneaded him like old dried dough. 

“Agghhh!” Hiccup cried out. 

“I’m a real masseuse, huh?” 

“It was a joke!” 

After she let go, he rolled his shoulders to get feeling back. “Hold on, do that again.” 

“What? Attempt to break you in half?” 

“Yeah, but closer to my neck this time.” 

Concerned, but curious, she dug her thumbs into the slope of his neck, tenderizing him. 

He let out several pained groans as she worked, but then sighed in relief when she was done. 

“That did the trick,” he breathed. “I feel like I can actually relax now, thank you.” 

“Huh,” she shrugged. “You’re welcome, I guess. I’ll let you soak in privacy for a while. If you fall asleep and drown, I will kill you.” 

He snorted. “Noted.” 

Some time later, when the water became lukewarm and the siren song of the bed became too strong, he staggered to his feet and drained the tub. Astrid left his nightclothes in the bathroom, and he dressed before trudging up the stairs. 

Astrid was already in bed, stretched out, only wearing a long tunic, and propped up with the pillows, reading a book. 

“Feel better?” She asked, not looking up. 

“You’re on my side.” 

She laughed. “Okay! I thought you wouldn’t want to crawl all the way over here.” 

“Oh, that’s true. I don’t.” He flopped bonelessly down onto the downy surface, awkwardly shuffling to get his feet up. 

Astrid couldn’t stand the pathetic sight, and grabbed him by the waistband and yanked him up on the bed. “There you go.” 

“Thanks…I’m totally exhausted.” 

“I can tell.” 

“Thank you for getting me home and taking care of me,” he murmured, slowly drifting towards sleep. 

She blew out the bedside candle. “You’re welcome.” 

“Are you proud of me?” 

Astrid scooted up beside him and gathered him in her arms, spooning him. “I’m so proud of you.” 

He hummed as a smile broke through the numbness. 

“Now that it’s all over, can I confess something, and you not get mad?” She asked. 

He furrowed his brow. What was all over? “Hmm?” 

“I knew what was happening at Gothi’s and purposefully didn’t stop it.” 

Hiccup’s eyes blew wide open, well, as much as they could with the swelling. He pulled away from her, and propped up on his arms, and leaned over her. “Pardon?” 

She nervously giggled. “Uh…yeah. When she had us do our vows, and she had you say your name, I knew then that she thought we were eloping.” 

“And you didn’t say anything?!” 

“Nope. Because I saw my chance.” 

He sputtered in outrage. “Chance for what?! To humiliate Spitelout? To send me on some noble quest for public acceptance?! Or just to get out of marrying Snotlout?!” He knew he was being hysterical, but her confession made the gauntlet of ‘what if’s’ run in his mind. 

Astrid didn’t look the least bit bothered. “I saw a chance for a lifetime of happiness with my best friend…and the man I love.” 

All the fight left him like a puff of smoke. “C-c-come again?” 

She chucked. “You heard me right.” 

He leaned closer, staring at her deeply. “Please, look me in the eyes and say it again. I need to know this isn’t just some dream that I’m having while still passed out on the arena floor.” 

She gently cupped his face with her hands, and he could just barely feel it. “I love you, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock. With all that I am.” 

He trembled. “Wow…wow…I…Astrid…” 

“Does that mean the feeling is mutual?” 

“Y-yes! Yes of course!” He declared. “I’ve loved you my whole life! Since we were children! I-I-I’ve only fallen harder and harder for you since those days you started talking to me. I tried to let you go, but I couldn’t. So many nights, Astrid, so many nights I thought about the hayloft. I knew I could never love another woman again. I…I love you.” 

Careful of the cut on his lip, Astrid pulled him down into a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll never get tired of that,” he said, dreamily. 

“So…you’re not mad at me?” 

“No. I would have been if you had said it was to stick it to the Jorgensons, but honestly, if I was in your shoes, and I noticed what Gothi was doing…I’d have a hard time stopping it too.” 

She pulled him down to snuggle with her, pressing his head to her chest. “I’m sorry you had to fight Snotlout. I didn’t expect that to happen. But that’s partly why I insisted on training you. I knew this was my fault. I owed it to you.” 

“No one has to know about this,” Hiccup murmured, getting sleepy again. “It’s still Gothi’s fault…you just took advantage of the situation.” 

“Yeah. I think it all worked out rather well.” 

He giggled as he rested his head against her breast. “I’ll say.” 

—

In the morning, Hiccup awoke slowly, coming in and out of wakefulness. Sleep felt like sand in his eyes as he blinked hard. Wiping his face resulted in a painful throb throughout his eyes and nose. 

Oh, right. The fight. Well, if the pain was any indication, that meant yesterday wasn’t a dream. He got his ass kicked, but he won in the end! 

“Morning,” Astrid said softly, above him. 

He blinked again, trying to orient himself. The pillow he was using was Astrid’s stomach, and he was curled around her, legs tangled with her. He realized he felt her playing with his hair too. 

He unfurled, sitting up to look at her. Her eyes were still sleepy, hair undone and messy. She grimaced when he faced her. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“The bruising has developed a…floral hue.” 

“I’m purple, got it.” 

She pouted. “At least you won the fight.” 

“True, and got the girl. Hey, did you tell me that you love me last night?” 

“I did!” 

“Oh good, that wasn’t a dream either.” He laid back down, curling into her side. “Maybe another hour or so of sleep…” 

“Or, we could go get breakfast up in the great hall. Should be plenty of drunk people ready to sing your praises.” 

Hiccup’s stomach growled on cue, and he rested his hand on it. “I suppose…”

“Then you can come back and take a nap, or we can take a leisurely stroll to the cove and hang out with Toothless!” 

He pushed to get up, now excited. “Now that sounds like a plan!”  

—

The Great Hall was teeming with village life, as usual. It was still morning, and people often brought their breakfasts, plus food to spare, up to fellowship with their neighbors. Today it seemed a little more lively, however, which could be chalked up to the fight. 

Vikings loved any and all reasons to party. 

When Hiccup and Astrid walked through the doors, people turned to greet them, only to switch to a grimace as they got a load of Hiccup’s face. It was a comedical “ayyyyeeuugghoooohhhhh” sound. 

Hiccup hadn’t looked in the mirror that morning. The Nadder poison still made his face numb, and it felt like it had swollen three times the normal size. He couldn’t quite open his eyes either. 

Astrid led them to their usual table, where the other teens, excluding Snotlout, were sitting. 

“Oh Hiccup,” Tuffnut cooed in jest, “purple suits you so well.” 

“Haha. Very funny.” 

“Is Snotlout still at Gothi’s?” Astrid asked. 

“No, he’s mostly recovered,” supplied Tuff. “Though, I did hear a rumor that he was training for some sort of ‘rematch’.” 

“Nope,” said Hiccup, slapping his hand on the table. “One fight was enough for me, thank you.” 

“Speaking of the fight!” Chirped Ruffnut. “You, my good sir, are owed some winnings!” 

A hefty bag of coins landed on the table, mostly filled with copper and silver pieces. 

“We did so good,” Tuff chuckled. “The biggest payout was to all the people that bet on Snotlout declaring himself winner first. But, all of this came from the people that took the easy bet of Snotlout winning.” 

“I’m…still a little offended,” Hiccup muttered, shifting the bag. 

“Well, I know your dear F-I-L is rolling in the dough. He bet the most on you winning. He said something about recouping everything he lost to Spitelout.” 

“All that free wood towards Snotlout’s house. It’s Astrid’s dowry.” 

“Well then, there you go. Now you’re his favorite kid.” 

Maybe it was mean, but Hiccup looked at Astrid and said, “well, at least your dad won off of one of our fights.” 

“Hiccup!” She shrieked, before nailing him in the shoulder with an unrestrained punch. 

“Yeah, I deserved that one,” he wheezed. 

“What are you going to use your winnings for?” Fishlegs asked, good naturedly. 

“Well…what about chickens?” 

The table collectively looked at him like he was speaking crazy talk. 

“Chickens? You?” 

He shrugged. “Why not? I like fresh eggs in the morning. And…” he leaned in to speak softer to Astrid. “The stray cat you’ve been feeding in the woods likes chicken, right?” 

Astrid felt her heart flutter. He was talking about Stormfly. He remembered her dragon’s favorite snack. 

“O-oh, yeah. She does.” 

“Ohhh! What kind of cat?” Fishlegs asked eagerly. 

“Lynx.” 

“Aren’t those kind of dangerous?” 

“She bites,” Astrid smirked. 

“I’m…no longer interested in this cat…” Fishlegs trailed off. 

“About the chickens,” Hiccup continued. “It’s really up to you, Astrid. If I get busy in the forge, you might end up taking care of them. I don’t want to force you into it.” 

“I’ll think about it, but it sounds fun.” 

Good food, good friends, good atmosphere. Besides the dull ache in his face, Hiccup felt good. Maybe too good. 

And that was weird. 

As they ate, random townsfolk came up to congratulate Hiccup on his win. Animatedly, they recreated his fight, each retelling becoming more and more ridiculous. 

“And you kicked ‘im tween the legs, and he flew six feet off the ground! E’ll never sire children!” 

Hiccup chuckled, not really knowing how to respond to all this positivity. 

Just a lot of shy ‘thanks’ were uttered. 

—-

At the cove, Hiccup embraced Toothless, who gave him a long, loving lick. That felt really bizarre with the numbing sensation on his face. 

“That was the first fight I’ve seen in fifteen years, and boy, was it ever a good one,” said Valka. “You really rang Snotlout’s bell! And Spitelout’s! They’ll think twice before messing with a Haddock!” 

“I guess so. I haven’t seen Snotlout since Gothi’s hut. I don’t know if he’s still coherent. I heard a rumor he’s training for a rematch.” 

Valka laughed, but Hiccup wasn’t joking. 

They spent hours with the dragons, flying around the backside of the island, racing, and playing tag. The girls kept nagging Hiccup about taking it easy with his injuries, but he didn’t heed them much. 

As they took a dinner break, Valka brought over a package for Hiccup. “I finally finished it! It’s a belated wedding gift, or a congratulatory prize, whichever you prefer.” 

Unwrapping the paper, Hiccup was delighted to find the jacket she had been working on. Now, all done and ready to wear. It was black, treated with loose scales from Toothless. 

“Oh, this is great!” He donned it, pleased to see the sleeves were buttoned up to fit perfectly. “It’s comfy! And warm! Thank you, mom. I love it!” 

“And I love you,” she cooed, rubbing her nose on his cheek. 

“Aw mom,” Hiccup blushed, embarrassed. He still wasn’t used to having a mom, much less her unfiltered behavior. 

But the affection was nice. 

One last gentle, night time flight, and Hiccup and Astrid called it a day. 

As they made the trek back to the village, they walked in silence. The night was quiet, occasionally an owl or crickets cutting through the still ambience of wind in the leaves. 

But for Hiccup, it wasn’t quiet. Something made his hair stand up and goose flesh rise on his skin. He shivered. 

“Cold?” Astrid asked. 

“No,” he lied. “Just…a chill down my spine.” 

She wrapped her arm around his waist. “You okay?” 

“It’s…hard to tell. I think everything is fine, but…something feels off. It feels wrong.” 

“What? The woods?” 

“No,” he sighed in frustration. “I don’t know how to explain it. The world, the world feels weird.” 

Astrid raised an eyebrow at him. “Is it just because you’re finally able to have your happy ending? Now that everything is peaceful and you’re a pinnacle of the community, it’s an unfamiliar sensation?” 

He shook his head. “There’s not peace. Toothless and Stormfly and my mom are still out in the cove. The alpha is out there.” Another shiver ran down his spine as he realized what was wrong. “And we haven’t had a raid in a while.” 

“Well, then we’re due for one. Hopefully it’ll wait until you’re fully recovered, and then we can finally find this thing.” 

Hiccup started walking, his gut churning unpleasantly. “Knowing my luck, I don’t think it’ll wait.” 

—-

When it was still dark out, and Astrid was snoring softly, Hiccup heard the roar of a dragon. Then two. 

“I knew it,” he snapped, throwing the blankets off. 

Astrid was startled awake by the action. “Huh? What? What’s going on?” 

“A raid. It’s about to happen.” 

“You’re sure?” 

He pushed the window open further and looked outside. It was still way too dark, but he could definitely hear chirps and squawks. 

“Any minute now, the horns will sound.” He fumbled to change into proper pants and a shirt. He pulled on his brand new jacket as well, fastening it closed. 

“I’ll come with you,” Astrid started to get up. 

“No.” He stopped her softly. “I’m just doing a scouting mission. I’m just going to follow the raiding dragons back to where they came. I need you to stay here and cover for me. It would be suspicious if we were both gone.” 

“I guess…” she frowned. “Are you sure you’re recovered enough? Your stitches—“ 

He kissed her as a distraction. “No, I’m not fully recovered. But I need to go now. Who knows how many raids we’ll have before winter?” 

Astrid didn’t look so certain. Her mouth pulled into a thin line. “I still don’t like it, but I can’t find anything else to argue with.” 

Just then, horns and bells started ringing, a warning for the raid. 

“Here we go.” Hiccup tied up his boots. “If anyone asks, I’m at the forge. If Gobber asks, tell him you don’t know.” 

“Okay,” she said, breathlessly. 

That horrible sense of dread stirred within him again, stronger this time. It made him hesitate, and even a little afraid. 

“Hiccup?” She asked, seeing him frozen. 

He shook his head, trying to force himself to be brave. He kissed her once more, before fleeing down the stairs. 

Something was different about this raid. He could feel it. Once he got outside, he could hear more anger in the dragons. As he watched them come into view, his heart sank as he saw they weren’t going for food. They were blasting at houses, the guard towers, anything they saw. 

Standing and gawking wasn’t going to get anything done. So he booked it into the woods, running as fast as his little legs would allow. His face throbbed and his nose dripped. But he had to get to Toothless. 

He skidded into the cove, the dragons perking up at his arrival. 

“What’s going on?” Valka asked. “Cloudjumper woke me. The dragons seem spooked.” 

“Yeah, there’s a dragon raid. I think it’s going to be a bad one.” He ran to Toothless and scrambled onto the saddle. 

“What makes you say that?” Valka asked, boarding Cloudjumper. 

“The dragons aren’t just going for food. It looks like they’re attacking anything they can find.” 

Valka hummed in thought, seemingly disturbed. “The Alpha…might be on to us. If the dragons haven’t been bringing back food for it…it might be lashing out.” 

“Then they’ll need you,” Hiccup declared. 

“Me?”

“Anyway you can, you have to help Berk drive them off. You know how to do that better than them. I don’t know if eels will cut it.” 

Valka seemed unsure, but ultimately agreed. “Just…don’t engage the Alpha. Find its location, and come back. Your father and I will help create a plan to deal with it.” 

“I promise I’ll be safe.” Though, he wasn’t sure that was true. That sense of unease continued to thrum through his small body, with a mantra of ‘don’t go, don’t go, don’t go’. 

But he ignored it, and had Toothless take off towards Berk.  

[adversitybloomed]

✩ — 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

▸     IS  YOUR  MUSE  TALL  /  SHORT  /  AVERAGE? short.

▸      ARE  THEY  OKAY  WITH  THEIR  HEIGHT ? yes, until she has to argue with someone much taller & she has to climb on something just so she is closer to their eye level to get her point across.

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE? Mulan has very long thick straight jet black hair that goes past her lower waist in modern verses, but in the past goes past her bottom most of the time. her hair is very healthy and she takes good care of it. she keeps it partially up most of the time with ribbons, hair jewelry or braids.

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    THEIR    HAIR    /    GROOMING? yes. a lot. she takes pride in her long hair, no matter the verse.

▸      DOES  YOUR  MUSE  CARE  ABOUT  THEIR  APPEARANCE  /  WHAT  OTHERS  THINK ? she does, because she knows her appearances reflects upon her family & her people. she likes being clean and she likes to make sure that she looks presentable. but at the same time she has no problem getting dirty & has on many occasions showed up covered in blood & ashes to a meeting.

✩ — 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

▸     INDOORS  OR  OUTDOORS? outdoors.

▸     RAIN  OR  SUNSHINE? rain.

▸     FOREST  OR  BEACH? forest.

▸     PRECIOUS  METALS  OR  GEMS? gems.

▸     FLOWERS  OR  PERFUMES? flowers.

▸     PERSONALITY  OR  APPEARANCE? personality.

▸     BEING  ALONE  OR  BEING  IN  A  CROWD? in a small crowd of those she trusts, otherwise alone.

▸     ORDER  OR  ANARCHY? order (with a little bit of anarchy).

▸     PAINFUL  TRUTHS  OR  WHITE  LIES? painful truths.

▸     SCIENCE  OR  MAGIC? magic.

▸      PEACE  OR  CONFLICT? peace (though somehow always brought into conflicts)

▸     NIGHT  OR  DAY? night.

▸     DUSK  OR  DAWN? dawn.

▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD ? warm.

▸     MANY  ACQUAINTANCES  OR  A  FEW  CLOSE  FRIENDS? few close friends.

▸     READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME? playing a game.

✩ — 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS? lack of self care (not eating when she should, lack of sleep, putting others before herself), has a temper that can be hard to tame, thickheaded, stubborn, will put herself at risk for the sake of others, over protective of those she cares for.

▸      HAS  YOUR  MUSE  LOST  ANYONE  CLOSE  TO  THEM?  HOW  HAS  IT  AFFECTED   THEM? yes, she has lost soldiers that have been under her command, lost friends & loved ones (her grandmother), each one has devastated her & she will mourn them when she is alone. she takes full responsibility for their loss & has a hard time moving on despite telling other's she is fine. she uses the loss to help those in the future & works hard to protect those who are still alive.

▸      WHAT  ARE  SOME  FOND  MEMORIES  YOUR  MUSE  HAS? playing in nature as a child. she grew up on a farm right by the forest, so most of the time after she finished her chores, she would run through the forest & play with wild animals while exploring. she has also helped spirits who were not able to move on & she takes great pride in helping them & their families. baking with her grandmother. playing with her little sister & singing her to sleep at night when she was scared.

▸     IS  IT  EASY  FOR  YOUR  MUSE  TO  KILL? yes, but it is not something she takes pride in as she will call herself a "butcher on the battlefield".

▸      WHAT’S  IT  LIKE  WHEN  YOUR  MUSE  BREAKS  DOWN? Mulan rarely breaks down in front of others, unless she fully trusts them. but when she does break down, it is usually alone during the night & after she has woken from another nightmare. she also waits for a storm to go out in and scream & cry at the sky so no one else can hear her. most of the time her tears are silent & she shakes as if she is freezing. she curls herself into herself during the late night sessions. but when she goes out into the storm she goes where no one can see her & will yell at the sky, demanding answers that she knows she will never get, before kneeling on the ground.

▸      IS  YOUR  MUSE  CAPABLE  OF  TRUSTING  SOMEONE  WITH  THEIR  LIFE? yes, but this is saved for her allies, trusted friends, that are considered family to her & her significant others.

▸      WHAT’S  YOUR  MUSE  LIKE  WHEN  THEY’RE  IN  LOVE? she is very soft. her love can be seen in her eyes, even if she tries to hide it. in the way she gravitates towards them & makes time to see them through her busy day. she will come up with excuses to see them and try to spoil them with gifts that may design personally for them.

tagged by: @jeditrash ( ty ! ) tagging: @battleguqin + @caracarnn + @luckhissoul + @ka-go-me + @cuckoo-among-beasts + @thuganomxcs + @seachant + @orangeshinigami + @auburniivenus or steal & tag me !

[ecclectricity]

me: i don’t like this character

also me: going on a deep, passionate rant about the reason I hate her raving fans, but as a character she’s fascinating and really complex and fun and was disserviced by not only her frothing fans in the twi//tter fanbase, but also by people who just mindlessly hate her because of said thoughtless eggheads

Three guesses who I’m talking about, and two don’t count

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good. 

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose. 

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

[casitafallz-a]

Stray AU | Cracks In The Foundations | P2

Abuela knew her methods were harsh but she knew Agustín was the wrong person for her daughter, even if they produced a wonderful daughter with a magnificent gift, the risk the man posed to not only himself but his daughters were heavily outweighed. She could see it in every step he took and ever the reminder how unsuited he was in her family; they had to be perfect. Had to be the support of their Encanto because from the moment it was founded, they had looked to her for strength.

Abuela couldn’t afford the toppling of that by a man who could barely walk flat ground without tripping. His interference on how Isabela used her gift; her flowers were stunning; she didn’t need to create the hideous cactus that literally only caused pain when tripped into one. Luisa had also hurt herself on it as well, so Flowers were the best option for her nieta to make, safe and beautiful.

Agustín needed to stop with trying for more, not to mention, she knew he had his dependence on Julieta’s gift. She wasn’t blind, of course, she knew they loved each other but Julieta didn’t seem to realise that Agustín must have married her with a deeper motive; his accident prone nature gave him mostly self-inflicted injuries. Injured that required healing.

Injuries that required her gift.

The idea of her daughter being used like that, it infuriated her.

Julieta deserved better.

Of course, she needed Agustín out of the picture so their family could once again be the proud family; she had heard the whispers so it was easy to know what image Agustín was bringing to them. It brought her no pride and more shame to know how to do it, she knew Pedro would certainly disagree but he wasn’t here. Pedro was gone.

Was she willing to hurt her daughter to get her way? Yes, because Julieta would heal from his absence. Agustín wasn’t going to be lost to a blade. She knew that wasn’t a line she was willing to cross. She’d not taint her husband’s sacrifice with Agustín’s death. He wasn’t that bad.

Husbands leave their wives easily.

Cheats, familiar responsibility fears and familia squabbles break married couples.

Agustín wasn’t a cheat, which that much she knew. Wearing him down was harder than she initially thought but she felt she had installed some subconscious doubts to both Julieta and Agustín by now.

Why couldn’t have he left more of his own free will to her demands than be stubborn about it, Abuela didn’t know. There was plenty of other women that’d be happy to have the guy, it wasn’t like he wasn’t a catch aside from his dangerous tendencies; he could still have a happy life. Just not with her daughter.

Abuela knew she had to plan carefully to get to him alone to persuade him away. But it was near impossible for weeks; he always had someone and she knew she couldn’t spout her ultimatum with an audience. So, she forced herself to wait. It gave her time to review and change a few routines to get the cards to fall into place.

Getting Dolores out of Casita and to the far end of town; people were busy in the quarry more than usual with more houses that needed to be built; the noise would be loud. She had to hope the noise would be distracting. Pepa in the fields, Felix helped with the carpenters. Isabela was of course with her mother in town and Bruno, he was in his tower, typically but she knew he’d be out to collect lunch and slink back; she didn’t have to worry about him.

Abuela sucked in a heavy breath as she returned back to casita, thumb rubbing soft circles at her locket with anxiety she hadn’t felt in a while. But now, she felt it was time. Everything was in motion.

Stepping in, she heard the movement from the kitchen, Luisa’s voice echoing with little giggles.

“Casita, distract Luisa.”

Casita’s titles wiggled with full disapproval but obeyed nonetheless before she heard the sound of little feet pattering against the floor and the near-three year old patter after the ripple of tiles with joy; a toy being bounced around.

Her back straightened, forcing her chin up before she marched into the kitchen. Her eyes scanned around and it didn’t take long to see the walking disaster wiping down the kitchen sides; he hadn’t even noticed his daughter walk off!

That only validated her stance on the matter.

Agustín turned before he realised she was there, yelping out and unsurprisingly, fell over onto his ass.

“Ow.” He groaned but picked himself up quickly, cheeks and neck flushing and posture turning stiff. “Abuela, I’m surprised you’re back so early.”

His tone suggested otherwise but Abuela didn’t over think on that. Abuela turned, fishing out one of the spare Aprea’s Julieta had at the ready in one of the cupboards and handed it over to him calmly.

Agustín eyed her carefully before his gaze flickered around before he frowned and then called out, “Luisa?”

“Playing with Casita.” Abuela spoke sharply, “if you has any spatial awareness, you would have noticed your child’s absence immediately.”

Agustín’s jaw stiffened, eyes narrowing behind those glasses. “What do you want? Aside from criticising me again. I know how to look after my child, I do not need constant supervision.”

“Given your proclivity for injuring not only yourself and your children, I don’t believe that I can tolerate such behaviour under my roof any longer.”

That snapped his attention back to her sharply from looking for his daughter still.

“What?” his brow pulled his, straightening up.

“You heard me.” Abuela inhaled deeply, “I’ve made it no secret but yet Julieta still chose to carry you despite that. I hoped she’d come to her senses but clearly I have to step in before you ruin anything else.”

Agustín ogled at her for a moment before he blinked and shook his head and seemly returning from where his mind had drifted off to. “Ruin? I haven’t ruined anything. I love your daughter, I don’t intend to go anywhere. I married her because I love her and we have two beautiful daughters. I intend to raise them.”

“No.” Abuela interrupted, “I don’t doubt that you love Julieta or your daughters but do you honestly think she deserves to be with a man that is a risk to not only himself but her daughters. I saw the injuries little Luisa has… A man that does that to his children is not a good father.”

Was she hitting low, yes but necessary, they had to think what was best for them.

Abuela expected him to back down with some argument but instead fury seeped into his expression, his hands gripping the countertop to the point his knuckles turned white and Casita’s tiles shifting underneath.

“How dare you…” He seethed, “I am a good father and a good husband. You dare use my clumsiness against me?!”

“I have every reason to do so, Agustín. You could have hurt Luisa far worse than scrapes, I’ve counted many times where you almost dropped her and she would not have been fine.”

“Oh will you stop with that excuse!” Agustín snapped, “It doesn’t change my position here! I have every right to hold my children. I do everything in my power to keep them safe, even if I do trip; my concern is only for them.”

“Yet it’s not enough!” Abuela spoke back harshly, glaring him down, “You will hurt them, sooner or later and there’s only so much Julieta’s food can fix. You’re not thinking of them. It’s selfish to think that it’s simple looking where you walk.”

“I am not selfish.”

“Then walk away.” She pressed, sizing that opening, “Leaving is their best option to keep the family safe, for your children’s sake and to keeping the family image stable. The town relies on us and you’re rocking the foundations.”

“I am not leaving just because you tell me to.” He snapped, trying to take a few calming breaths. “The basis you’re demands are complete bull shit.”

“Are they? Need I remind you of two weeks ago? I asked about at the neighbours, you were seen tripping with Luisa in your arms. Do you have any idea of how that makes the family is seen in Encanto. We cannot be seen as weak. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep this town stable when they need us?”

“I don’t care about the town. I care about my family. I can’t—I won’t leave them.”

Abuela inhaled deeply at hi pure stubbornness. But she didn’t think of this ultimatum without reason. “Agustín, I’m not giving you a choice.”

Agustín scoffed. “Oh please, like Julieta would let you kick me out of the house, Abuela.”

“No, because you’ll be walking out of that door under your own steam. You won’t be telling her either.” Her tone remained light but she knew the threat was very clear in her voice. He damn well knew she had something up her sleeve and she knew now was time to draw it.

“What?”

“Luisa’s gift ceremony is in two years’ time and I have the magical candle.” Abuela spoke, letting him put the pieces to her implication. The idea of…not giving Luisa her gift wasn’t something she wanted to pull; but it had to be enough to convince him to leave.

“You wouldn’t dare do that…not to her.” Agustín’s anger was gone, replaced quickly with anxiety, his flushed cheeks had lost a few shades.

“Don’t test my patience.” She spoke, “but, there’s also the matter of Isabela too.”

“Leave her out of this. She’s six years old!”

“Who favours her mother’s looks. Not yours.” Abuela knew she was scraping the barrel, the gambit was now up in the air. “The town does love a good gossip. Do you think people haven’t noticed she looks nothing like you?”

Agustín’s eyes widened before his jaw clenched. “You can’t do that…. Not to Julieta!”

“If I have to.” She lied, “because if you cared about what other people think of your wife, you’d take this seriously. I don’t enjoy this but I have to think of what’s best for her. For Isabela. For Luisa.  That’s not you. It never was.”

Agustín’s weight was now leant heavily up against the counter, face pale and barely in control of his breath.

Abuela stepped back, taking a breath. “I will give you 36 hours to be leave.”

Maybe then she’d see about getting the marriage annulled as soon as Julieta was emotionally ready once she knew Agustín wasn’t going to take her back. She was sure Agustín would find a place at the furthest point in Encanto to settle; play his part well as the absent ex; he’d…still get some form of contact with his children; she couldn’t entirely rob him of that but now the family has a chance of standing strong for what was to follow.

Abuela turned and swept from the kitchen, catching little Luisa before she ran in and guided her away with a false smile.

You know i wasn’t originally planning on her POV but...it felt right for the argument. Also, please note how Abuela’s perspective of ‘leaving’ is different to how Agustín understands it. I didn’t want to be as simple as ‘Abuela is a evil and without remorse’ bc i think there’s complexities to how to see this. She used a gambit bluff to get her way; I doubt she planned to truly follow through but Agustín doesn't know that. She doesn’t want to hurt him more than necessary, certainly doesn’t want him dead bc that’s too extreme bc she lost her husband to death too soon; she doesn’t wish that on anyone.

[holylulusworld]

Smirk of the devil

Title: Smirk of the devil

Summary: He’s the devil in disguise.

Square filled for @spnquotebingo​​​​​​: (“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years.” – SPN)

Word Count: 1,9k

Pairing: Clubowner!Dean x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Ruby, Gadreel, unnamed girl

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  angst, language, smut, unprotected sex, a hint of fluff, mentions of cheating (implied), sadness, toxic relationship?, unrequited feelings, Dean hurt the reader more than once, hopeful ending but no happy ending

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

“Excuse me, miss,“ a young girl, barely twenty-one coos. She looks up at you with big doe eyes, batting her eyelashes. “I’m looking for Dean Winchester. He asked me to come here at nine.”

“No, you don’t,” anyone not knowing you would think you are trying to be rude to the girl, but this is so far from the truth. “Girls like you shouldn’t come to places like these.” you huff when the girl rolls her eyes. “You don’t want to meet up with Dean.”

“And you know this why?” she sasses, hands on her hips now. 

You can smell the strawberry chewing gum she tortured the whole time and can’t help but chuckle at her bratty attitude. Once upon a time, you were just like her.

Sweet, innocent, an intact heart beating in your chest.

“You’re not my mom. So, why do you think you can keep me away from Dean,” you’d like to slap her face at the ‘mom’ comment but bite your tongue. You never were a violent person. Maybe if you were, Dean would run around with one ball missing. “I bet you’re just jealous he wants me.”

What can you possibly tell the girl? That he will break her heart. That, once he has you in his clutches he will strip off your dignity, rip any pride left out of your chest and replace your former self with a drooling mess, begging him to do it all over again.

“Speak of the devil,” you whisper, watching Dean waltz into his club, the bunker, the place you first met. Those days seem a lifetime away. Back then you still were a cute and clueless girl, missing the way he tainted you with every touch and kiss. 

“I want to speak to him, now,” the girl pouts and you get the feeling she’s rather a girl scout wanting to sell cookies than her pussy to a man she won’t be able to handle. “NOW!”

“It’s your funeral, sweet cheeks,” you wave her off, walk past the girl to talk to Dean Winchester, the devil himself. Oh, how you wish you could tell him to go to hell, but you would only beg him to take you with him.

“Sweetheart,” he dips his head, shamelessly roams your body with darkened eyes, “you look ready to get eaten.” damn him, he smirks, and you get weak in the knees. “And you will—”

“Another of your fangirls,” you jerk your head in the girl’s direction, rolling your eyes. “Guess you are down to high school girls now, Winchester. Shame on you.”

“Jealous?” he cocks his head, watches you turn on your heels, ignoring your racing heart when he walks behind you, one hand on the small of your back. “So, how’s it going with your mysterious boyfriend lately?”

“Wonderful,” you grit out, already walking faster to brush Dean off. “I told you, no questions about my love life or I’ll quit once for all, Dean. Go, take care of your girl.”

It’s when he walks toward the girl that you allow yourself to admire his back, his broad shoulders, and, yes, his ass.

“Ogling my brother again?” Sam stands too close for comfort, but you don’t mind. “What’s the state of your on-and-off relationship? Who’s winning this round?”

“No one is going to win shit, Sammy. Dean wants to fuck every woman with a pulse, and I want a faithful man, period,” you turn your attention back toward the bartender who wanted to talk to you about the latest order.

“He’s hard to handle, I told you so,” Sam nudges your side. “Why don’t you lay claim on him and show any woman he’s yours.”

“Dean is not my man, never was,” you sigh, eyes filled with unshed tears once again. “When we met, he did anything to get me, and then, he dropped me like any other girl. I’m not what he wants, Sam. Dean lives for his club, Baby, and having sex with any woman he can get into his bed…”

“Bunny hole would be the better name for this shithole,” you grit out, downing your first drink of the night. “Give me another one, Gade. I wanna get drunk tonight.”

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t drink at work,” Dean sits on the barstool next to you, grinning when you grasp for the next drink. 

He easily snatches the drink out of your hands, downing it in one go, slamming the glass onto the counter. “Your boss could catch you red-handed and fire you or slap your ass. Whatever you prefer.”

“Go ahead and fire me, Winchester. This shithole will go down without the manager keeping it alive,” you quip. “Now let me have another drink. My shift is almost over.”

“Almost,” he whispers in your ear, fingertips sliding over your thigh to hike up your skirt. “How about we talk about this at my office in the back, Miss Y/L/N?” you place your hand on top of Dean’s to guide it to his thigh, hiding you shivered at his touch.

“Don’t hurt yourself, boss,” you lean closer to whisper the words. “I think you had enough fun with little miss sunshine not an hour ago. I hope you checked she was at age, Dean.”

“Jesus, I asked her to come around for a job, nothing else,” Dean grumbles, hand moving toward your thigh again. “I don’t play with girls, only with women.”

“Yeah, I remember how well you played with half of the female population in town,” snickering Dean slides off his barstool to stand behind you. He’s caging you with his body, places both hands on each side of the bar counter.

“You were one of them, and I remember you were so eager to get out of that cute dress you wore only for me, sweetheart,” he husks in your ear. “Come to my office, Miss Y/L/N, and let’s talk about your behavior lately.”

“If you insist, boss,” you hate you follow him all too eager.

While Dean waltzes toward his office, waving at people, you fight your way through the masses, unbeknownst Sam is following your every step with his eyes.

“She will fall for him all over again,” Ruby sighs. The brunette sips at her drink while sitting on Sam’s lap. “Can you not tell your brother to stop breaking my friend’s heart? She deserves better for fuck’s sake. Two years ago, she found a nice guy and tried to quit only to do the walk of shame the next morning.”

“I can’t help two fools in love to find their way. I tried, Baby. Don’t ask me to talk to my brother about love again. He’s stubborn. You know that Ruby.”

“I know, still, she deserves better than a quick fuck at his office only to end up alone and weeping on the floor for weeks after he had his way with her…”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Dean groans with every thrust. “I’ve missed this tight little cunt around me.” you hate yourself for letting Dean in once again while he takes you apart.

What can a girl do when he has you pressed against the wall the moment he closed the door behind you. His lips on yours, his hands on your ass to heave you up to hold you against the wall.

His thrusts are more demanding tonight, his lips tender against your throat and his hand, well his hands hold you a little tighter. “Dean, fuck—we shouldn’t.”

“A little too late for regrets,” the devil moans in your neck, moves a little slower to drag his thick length against your walls. “You’re so wet for me, Sugar.” you whimper at the nickname. 

It brings back memories of all the nights he called you like that, voice hoarse and his eyes only set on you.

“Go to hell—” you finally choke out, still, you hold tight onto his shoulders when he starts to fuck up into you at a madding pace. 

“I’ll just take you with me,” he grips your ass tighter, moves you up and down his length while his lips do the worst thing possible – they claim yours in a bruising kiss, take your breath away. 

Dean moans against your soft pillows, ignores a single tear that runs down your cheek or that your cunt flutters around him.

“You’re mine, my girl,” he demands, hips jerking uncontrollably now. “Never gonna let you go. Just hold tight, baby.”

You grasp for his shoulders, dig your nails deep into his skin when you can’t hold back the approaching high anymore. A wave of pleasure washes over you and for a moment everything is like it should be—until it isn’t. 

His warmth fills you and you remember the way he ended things, right after he fucked you against the wall at his place.

“What if you let me fall?” there is so much fear and pain hidden behind those few words Dean stops moving for a moment. He just looks at you pinned to the wall, bare and vulnerable right in front of him. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Why do you always keep coming back to me?” he nips at your lips, hands wrapping around your back. “Why, baby?”

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years,” you give Dean a sad smile, eyes filled with tears again. “Maybe I’m a masochist and like to get hurt. I don’t know why I let you in over and over again only to get broken.”

“I hate to break it for you, but we have this thing going on for almost six years,” Dean laughs when you punch his shoulder. “Maybe a little longer.”

“I know, dumbass,” you shake your head. “Two years ago, I found a new job and tried to leave town, but then you dragged me back into your life, and since then…”

“You try to escape me and my charming personality…”

“Why are you still here?” looking over your shoulder you wonder why Dean didn’t leave your place like he always does after he got what he wanted. “Isn’t one of your other girls waiting for you?”

“I told you that the girl was there for a job, not to suck my dick,” he kicks his shoes off and drops his shirt to the ground before he unzips his pants. “I want to stay the night.”

“Why?” watching Dean strip his socks off you frown. “Dean, you don’t need to pretend shit, okay. We both know I was just convenient again.” you turn around, not wanting to face the devil again. If you do, he’ll drag you down to hell again.

“Y/N, baby,” he crawls under the covers to press his face into your shoulder, “you’re not convenient to me. I swear, I asked the girl to come to the club for a job. She asked around at my mom’s place and I offered she can take over a few shifts. As a waitress, not for me to… you know…”

“How shall I know?” you hate that his warmth lulls you into safety. And you hate his arms wrap around your waistline even more. “All you do is to bang random chicks at your office. Just like you did with me not an hour ago.”

“You’re not a random chick, Y/N,” oddly Dean clings to you tonight. He burrows his face in your neck, not letting go of you until he feels your breathing even out. “Maybe you are the only girl I ever loved. I was just too afraid to keep you in my life.”

You can’t react to his confession as you are fast asleep. Dean doesn’t care. He needed to get it off his chest. 

“No matter what, you’ll always be mine, sweetheart. Come hell or high water,” he whispers. 

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll give him another chance to prove he’s not the devil, only a lonely man who messed things up years ago.

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog. 

[mcyt-imagines]

TommyInnit Confession HCs

This is a combination of an imagine and some headcanons, this is a new way of writing for me so let me know if you enjoyed this format! 

- Tommy realising he loves the reader and how he’d confess to them - 

Tommy definitely would deny being interested in the reader in the beginning.

It would probably be a natural progression of feelings but tommy just wouldn’t realise it until WAY too late.

Like he just catches himself thinking about them when he’s just doing schoolwork and chores. And then he’s aware of just how much his mind wanders to them. Far too often in his humble opinion.

He lays hints about his crush when talking with Tubbo. He’s real defensive about it though. “You much of a ladies man Tubbo?” Trying to discretely get advice without actually asking for any. And Tubbo being Tubbo means he completely missed all the hints Tommy was dropping. (Not that Tommy’s hints were any good)

His stream for sure notices a change in his behavior, more scatterbrained showing visible signs of stress maybe a little more irritable too. Tubbo definitely notices the changes too and asks him about it. 

Tubbo would probably ask tommy on stream or in private something along the lines of. “What’s up Tommy, you’ve been kinda uh, distracted lately…”

Tommy for suuuuuure blushes and stutters out a response that even Tubbo doesn’t buy. (So instead he talks to Tubbo about it off stream, doesn’t mention his crushes name, but he keeps Tubbo in the loop. Tubbo finds the whole thing very funny because of how defensive Tommy gets in response, however he offers his support to Tommy, obviously. “Even though I have no experience with romance Tommy. I’ll do my best to be the best wingman ever!” With a salute to Tommy on his webcam. Tubbo quickly leaves the call saying he needs to do some ‘research’ (he puts the word in quotation marks with a wink)

Tommy would be a stubborn flustered MESS if stream ever figured out that he was crushing on someone.

And of course they find out because Tubbo slips up and mentions Tommy having a crush.

By that point he is absolutely CONSUMED by his thoughts about the reader as the more he tries to not think about them the more he wishes he was with them.

He also would 10000% be ignoring or avoiding his crush for as long as possible because he knows he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word to their face. His usual ‘big man’ façade would be in absolute shambles if he were around the reader during this time.

There would be a lot of internal and external swearing from Tommy when he finally realises and accepts that he likes you though.

However, this acceptance doesn’t make him any less stressed because now he needs to figure out whether he is even going to tell you!

But he knows he can’t keep living like this as he can’t keep avoiding his crush forever. And he knows the next time he sees you he knows his heart is going to literally burst out of his chest. And he won’t be able to stop himself. So, he devises a plan.

He gets a pep talk from Tubbo in which they help brainstorm his confession plan but he finds himself messaging Wilbur one late night after his stream. “Hey, can I get some advice?” Wilbur is shocked. “Tommyinnit asking ME for advice? Never thought I’d see the day.”

Wilbur teases him for a short while surely. But when Tommy finally puts his pride aside and tells Wilbur about his crush he sobers up quick and dishes out some solid advice and support for Tommy. “In exchange for my services I better be meeting this crush of yours Tommy.” “You got it big man.”

After speaking with Wilbur Tommy feels as if he can finally breathe for the first time in weeks since he first started to realise his feelings for the reader.

CONFESSION DAY!

Tommy sends the reader a text in the mid-morning asking if they wanted to hang out sometime later today. Also apologizing for how ‘busy’ he’s been the last few weeks using schoolwork or chores as his excuse.

He’s furiously texting Tubbo the WHOLE time he’s waiting for a reply from them. Tubbo pulls Tommy onto Minecraft to try and take his mind off the situation. Offline of course, Tommy would not be able to handle streaming right now.

Even Wilbur sends him a few messages to check in, jumping on discord to give his ear for Tommy to chew off. Which he most definitely does.

Eventually his phone dings and Tommy DIVES for it. “THEY SAID YES!” Both Wilbur and Tubbo groan from Tommy’s mic peaking with his screech.

Tommy waits for a few minutes before replying per Tubbo’s request. “I read it online! You don’t want to seem too into them.” He proclaims with false authority as Wilbur chuckles in the background of the call.

The rest of the afternoon blurs for Tommy as he stays on call with Wilbur and Tubbo as they do their best to distract his overactive mind.

However, as the clock ticks on he knows he needs to start getting ready or he’s going to be late.

Wilbur demands that he choose Tommy’s outfit. So for the next half hour Tommy proceeds to perform a free fashion show for the two, only for Phil to join for a short while to give his two cents before going back to his stream.

Eventually Wilbur settles on what he dubbed “-a classic Tommyinnit look-” one of his favourite red shirts paired with one of his nicer black jackets and the dark charcoal pants his mum had made him get a few months ago for a wedding. They are very uncomfortable.

Tommy heaves a sigh as he thanks Wilbur and Tubbo for sticking around with him today. They both send him away, “Good luck Tommy!” “Go get ‘em big man.”

Tommy had agreed to meet the reader at the park, he thought dinner would have been a bit much. Wilbur and Tubbo both agreed on that front. This park was right near the water, so it had a great view of the sunset. He was still pretty chuffed about that fact, his chat was sooo wrong, he could be romantic if he wanted to after all.

Of course, he was a little late. He repeatedly told his mum to speed. She refused of course. His mother of course had noticed exactly what this ‘hang out’ was and had quizzed him about his crush the night prior.

“Don’t leave the car mum.” Tommy was quick to warn her, he did not want her to be anywhere near them. She didn’t need any more dirt on him to embarrass him with. She could end his whole streaming career in an instant if she wanted. A truly terrifying thought.

Tommy was quick to move near the waterfront puffing slightly, nose a tinge pink with the oncoming chilly wind from the lake. “Hey Tommy.” Tommy would freeze instantly before quickly turning with a forced smile, a little too big for his face. “Hey!”

His crush would lead Tommy over to the nearby bench they had been sitting on before he arrived. And they would definitely sit closer to Tommy than he would have wanted.

Tommy would be so obvious. Stuttering over his words, a LOT of frantic hand movements whenever he’s speaking to them.

Mid-conversation his crush starts to laugh. “Tommy I think I’ve figure out why you have been ‘busy’ recently.” Tommy stills immediately, sweat dripping off of him in POOLS. “H-Huh!?” He makes a noise in the back of his throat that he has NEVER made before.

This seems to only make his crush laugh more, they turn fully to him and take one of his clammy hands. He quickly goes to yank it from their grip knowing how sweaty it is. But their grip is strong, and surprisingly calm in contrast to his shaking hands. He gulps simply staring at the spot where their hands are touching. “Tommy.” His gaze snaps up to their smiling face hiding slight worry. “Breathe.” And he finally does. His tense shoulders drop, and their hand leaves his. And suddenly he’s laughing harder than he ever has before realizing how ridiculous he’s being right now. And when he looks over, so is his crush.

The conversation from that point on flows naturally as the two finally begin to catch up after not seeing each other for a few weeks.

Tommy finally realises how comfortable they make him feel. He simply stares at them as they speak. Awed that it took him this damn long to figure out he liked them.

His crush stops talking, noticing him staring. He jumps out of his thoughts, “Hey Tommy, take a picture it’ll last longer.” And suddenly he’s sweating all over again as they laugh.

His crush is having the time of their life watching ‘big man’ Tommy squirm beside them. Trying his best to scrounge up the courage to say something, anything to them.

They open their mouth to speak when suddenly Tommy yells, “I LIKE YOU!”

Tommy isn’t even looking at them, he has his eyes squeezed shut and he thrusts his arm outwards holding something which promptly shoves into his crush’s chest. Effectively winding them.

They wheeze in response, “Me too. Don’t know why though goD!” They push out through gasps of air, pressing a hand to their chest. Pain beginning to subside as Tommy realises he literally just punched his crush.

His jaw drops and his silence continues as they take what was in his hands. A small book.

A scrapbook.

His crush’s face softens as they flip through the photos, memories flooding back to them of days long gone by.

Tommy stayed up all night yesterday just to finish the final details on the scrapbook, it isn’t the most aesthetically pleasing thing. (Even he knows that) But he put his heart and soul into it.

“Very sweet of you Tommy. But I didn’t bring anything for you…” They end up mumbling in response. Tommy only grins. “So you like it?” They scoff and finally pull Tommy in for a hug. He stills for a moment, then melts into their hold.

Tommy mumbles his apology for literally punching them into his crush’s hair. They giggle into his chest in response, letting him know that it’s fine, they’re okay. Tommy mumbles something incoherent into their hair and presses a cautionary kiss to the top of their head.

“AWWWWW!” A loud noise comes from behind their bench. Tommy and his crush dive apart only to see Tommy’s mum hidden behind a nearby tree.

“MUUUUUUUUUM!” Tommy screeches as his crush cackles out a laugh.

Tommy’s mum ends up driving his crush home as well, they sit in the back seat of the car holding hands.

“This didn’t go at all how I’d planned…” Tommy complains with a deep pout. “Oh really? Your plan didn’t involve punching me? Huh?” Their crush sniggers at him.

“Oh! His real plan-“ His mother starts and in order to cut her off Tommy just starts yelling at the top of his lungs “Nononono!!”. Causing his crush to burst into laughter as the two try to increase their volumes to drown out the other.

His crush shakes their head with a grin and wonders what the hell they’ve just gotten themselves into.

[sdr2lovemail]

I just noticed that you are alive again! So um.. I've been thinking for QUITE a while of a relationship Ultimate Impostor x Ultimate Leader (in the killing game ig?), idk why. If the requests are closed feel free to ignore this. Thank you!

You could say that I am a fan of Imposter's work. Even tho there is not a lot of content about them out there I still love them dearly.

And yes I died for a minute but have risen from the grave to continue my writing career. I hope you enjoy what I have written my friend because I absolutely love it.

⚔Mod Peko⚔

Spoilers for chapter 1

The Ultimate Imposter disguised as Byakuya Togami and the Ultimate Leader butt heads but also kinda wanna kiss each other

Teenagers and a killing game are bound to fall into chaos. Teenagers, a killing game, and no supervision will cause more chaos. That’s why they need a leader. Someone strong and brave to guide them. However two ultimates wanting to be that leader, teenagers, a killing game, and no supervision will cause even more chaos.

Breakfast was a usually calm time. Everyone just wanted to eat and get on with finding a way off this forced school trip. However there were some mornings where everyone seemed to be full of energy. Akane and Nekomaru were engaged in a fierce 1v1 training session. Chairs, tables, and food flying throughout the air from the power of their moves. The restaurant was in total disarray and with your talent of being a leader you must do something to calm the crowd. Standing up you set your arms behind your back and call out to your classmates.

“Everyone! This is-”

“Sit down, common folk. You will all cease this foolish behavior and stop wasting food.”

“Huh?”

At the mention of wasting food Akane quickly stops her fighting. She then pulls up a table and chair from the mess of the restaurant and begins to chow down. You look at where the voice came from and see Twogami sitting at a table with a plate. Just because this guy is loaded he thinks he can be a better leader than you? Oh you will just have a quick word with him to set the record straight. With quick strides you tap him on the shoulder giving him your best stern look. This look helped you strike the feeling of order into people. But Twogami doesn’t look impressed at all?! No you can’t let him see you falter. Standing up straighter than ever you begin to speak.

‘Hey what’s the big idea? I’m the Ultimate leader. I don’t need your help guiding our class.” You told him with a grim expression. Twogami gave you a look over before setting down his fork. He wipes his mouth off with a napkin before standing to face you. His intimidation factor was off the charts. Can money buy such a scary aura?! After adjusting his glasses he begins to speak with a sigh.

“Listen I, Byakuya Twogami, am much better suited to be in charge. You may have your impeccable wits and title but that is nothing compared to being next in the Togami line. Now are we done here? I would like to finish my food”

Not even giving you a chance to respond he goes right back to eating. Even with your ultimate status this guy intimidates you a lot. But you will not be backing down. He thinks he’s so high and mighty you’ll show him high and mighty.

The days feel like they’re getting heavier. Monokuma’s annoying voice rings in your ears. There’s no way you’d believe that memory loss garbage….And even if you did, you had to stay strong for everyone. Twogami’s party did nothing to calm the tense feeling in the air. You decided you were going to check this abandoned building from top to bottom before anyone steps foot inside.

You do not see Nagito when you first step in. Maybe he’s cleaning somewhere else. Teruteru was said to be in the kitchen. Entering the main room of the building you see Twogami rifling through what looks to be a metal case. Hearing the floors creak under your weight he looks over. Upon seeing you he sends a glare.

“And what are you doing here? I don’t remember you having to prepare anything.” There was a doubtful tone to his voice. Twogami was trying to let this party go off without a hitch. And he wasn’t going to let some commoner ruin his plans. Though behind the rich boy costume Imposter did feel kinda bad. They felt like they were trampling all over your pride with their Byakuya act. However this was their ultimate. And as Twogami….No. Just as themself, if that even existed, they will keep their classmates safe. Even if they have to hurt some feelings.

“As a leader it is my duty to keep everyone in order and assure maximum safety. I plan to do a total sweep of the place before the party.” And like he did to you, you did not give him a chance to answer. You quickly turn around and exit out into the hallway missing the look of awe on Twogami’s face. Walking past the fire door you come up to the kitchen. Before you can reach for the door it swings open revealing Nagito. Strange….If Teruteru was already in the kitchen there was no need for Nagito to be in there. The lucky student passed by with a smile yet spoke no words towards you. Also strange. Nagito usually said something when passing. He deemed it rude not to say hello to an ultimate.

Entering the kitchen you see Teruteru at the counter. He doesn’t seem to notice you coming in. The usual smile on his face is replaced with a look of fear and he’s shaking like a leaf. Stepping closer seems to have caught his attention as he jumps. The look of fear is swiftly changed into a smile yet he’s still shaking. Teruteru then grabs a knife and begins chopping at some vegetables. Seems as if he’s trying to make it seem like he was simply taking a break.

“W-Why hello there. Heh, what could I do for you?” He’s shaken up quite a bit. Not a single flirty remark in that sentence and Teruteru sure did like to tease about your strong authority. You stand tall and look down at the chef. He visibly shrinks back. Looking him dead in the eye you start to command him.

“You will tell me what you have discussed with Nagito Komaeda.”

This caused Teruteru to tense up. Setting down the knife he grabs a comb from his pocket and begins to bring it through his hair. Though there isn’t a hair out of place on his pompadour. Appears to be a nervous habit.

“I uh….I have no idea what you mean mon ami~. We were simply discussing plans for the upcoming party.” Teruteru had tried to come off as collected but you knew better. He wasn’t making eye contact and he was constantly fidgeting. Nagito told him something and you were going to find out what.

“Teruteru Hanamura! I command you to tell me what Nagito had told you. Simple party plans would not have such an impact on your demeanor.”

This seemed to have caused a reaction in him. He began to blubber as words poured out of his mouth like a dam cracking under pressure.

“He came in here and told me that he had plans to murder someone at the party with the knife he had hidden under one of the tables in the dining room. He planned to overload the breaker in here with irons in the storage room to cause a blackout so he could grab the knife and kill someone during the party. I-I begun to form my own plan of stopping him….by….killing him?” The last part of his word vomit stuck with Teruteru. He would’ve had someone’s blood on his hands and would send the rest of his class to their own demise. “Oh my god I was going to kill him!” Teruteru then sinks to his knees before you.

Your face softens as you see the mess of a chef on the ground. Nagito was planning a murder? Why would he share this information with Teruteru? Dropping down to his level you set a careful hand on Teruteru’s back. “Listen. I’m going to go grab Twogami and you’re going to tell him what happened. And we’ll come up with a solution.” You normally wouldn’t call for backup, but as this was his party you felt he had the right to know.

You cautiously leave the kitchen and begin to look for the blond. Not able to find him in the building you exit to the hotel grounds. Noticing the while suit and blonde hair you call out to him and ask for him to come back. Leading him to the kitchen where Teruteru still sits slumped on the ground he listens to what you already know.

A look of disgust crosses Twogami’s face before he sets off to the main room. After announcing your departure to Teruteru, you follow him. Nagito is there setting up tables and dusting the furniture. He was about to offer the two of you a cheerful greeting but is cut off by your demand for him to exit the grounds. Not wanting to upset an ultimate that is clearly in higher ranks than he is, Nagito does not question it. He leaves the abandoned building to rest in his cottage to wait for permission to be allowed back in.

Looking under the tables you find the knife that Teruteru had mentioned. Grabbing it proceeds to coat your hand in wet paint. So Nagito had just planted this. But what’s the paint for?

“Set the knife in the duralumin case I brought on the left. I am currently using it to store anything I deem unsafe.”

You let out a scoff before setting the knife in the case. He sure does love bossing people around even in dire situations. Well….I guess that’s your talent so you can’t really speak. After doing a check of the rest of the tables, Twogami walks up to you with something in his hand. It’s a handkerchief with the Togami family crest. Imposter spent many hours perfecting the stitching of the symbol. You give him a confused look about the offering. Seeing the expression he rolls his eyes.

“Close your mouth before flies start to swarm. This is to wipe your hand off. I don’t need paint smears ruining the image of my party.”

“What? I can’t wipe paint on something as expensive as that. That handkerchief probably cost more than my house. I’ll just go wash it in the bathroom.”

Upset by your stubborn nature, Twogami grabs your wrist and begins to wipe the paint off himself. After your hand is clean he drops the cloth into your hand. “I expect that to be washed before it’s returned to me. Now I have some important matters to discuss.”

Stuffing the handkerchief into your pocket you give Twogami your full attention.

“I have decided that after this little incident we need to up the security. I would ask Nekomaru but I wish to keep this between us. Letting the public know that two people were planning a murder would cause chaos. When it’s time for the party you will help me conduct body searches. I’d like for you to keep an eye on the party with me to make sure no suspicious activity is at play.”

While normally you would make a fuss about him bossing you around with people’s lives at stake it was simply not the time for that. Nodding once he finishes speaking, you and Twogami complete one last look of the place before the party starts.

It’s time for the party and the two of you are set up outside of the abandoned building. After checking everyone and confiscating anything deemed dangerous, the party is in full swing. Everything is going smoothly. 11:30 was nearing and at the corner of your eye you see Nagito inch closer to the table. Knowing you shut the irons off you pay this no mind. There’s no way he’d try to pull anything when everyone can see him. A quick look of confusion crosses his face as the lights are still on. The confused expression is swapped for one of despair. There’s a creepy smile on his face and his eyes are clouded. Even if the blackout did not occur Nagito can still pull through with his plan.

He suddenly flips the table cloth over and goes to reach for his knife. Everyone at the party has eyes on him. Before he can fully register that his knife is in fact missing Nagito is pushed to the ground. His arms are pressed against his back and his face is squished into the floor. Multiple confused cries echo throughout the dining hall. Nagito recognized this tactic. After hours upon hours of researching the ultimates he’s sharing a class with he could easily tell that this was your work.

Twogami with Nekomaru in tow walks over to you and the detained lucky student. An agitated expression is on the heir’s face. He looks down at Nagito.

“You dare to think that I would let your plan continue? [Name] and I knew about your scheme and were quick to put a stop to it. And the fact that you would try to pull through with it in broad light is despicable.”

Anger, disgust, and confusion are present in the crowd of your classmates. Trying to make sense of it all Akane speaks up.

“I’m so friggin’ confused. What plan did Nagito have? Need me to beat him up for ya?”

You were quick to diminish the violent thought. “No, that will not be necessary as he has already been disarmed.”

“Nagito had planned out a murder.”

Twogami’s words caused a commotion in the dining hall. After hearing the noise from the kitchen, Teruteru cautiously enters the room fearing the worst. Though a feeling of relief washed over him after seeing Nagito on the ground.

Nekomaru lets out a strangled noise. His teeth are clenched and his fists tightened.

“You were going to murder one of your classmates? THAT’S INEXCUSABLE! Please [Name] allow me to detain him somewhere away from everyone. SOMEONE LIKE HIM CANNOT WALK FREEEEE!”

Looking over to Twogami as if silently discussing what to do he sends you a nod. Removing Nagito from your grasp he is quickly put into Nekomaru’s. The coach is quick to remove him from the premises. With a sigh Twogami faces your classmates. Pushing his glasses up he begins to apologise.

“I am sorry you all had to see that. And I am sorry that my exquisite party must draw to a close here. Exit the building and head to your cottage for the night.”

Though shaken, everyone proceeds to leave in groups. No one wants to walk back alone fearing that someone will try something. With just you and Twogami left he turns to face you.

“That was quite impressive. What you did back there was helpful in getting Nagito detained. I believe that we should come to an agreement. Yes we are fine separately but together I feel that we could do an outstanding job at keeping everyone safe.”

Twogami extended a chubby hand out for you to shake. This handshake would seal the two of you into a partnership. One of which would keep your class safe. Looking from his hand to his face then back to his hand you sit there in thought. This could be a wonderful idea. With two people working together that’s like double the safety. With a smile you shake his hand giving it a tight squeeze.

“I think I’d like that Twogami! From here on out the two of us are now Jabberwock Island’s health and safety committee.”

[lucycola]

Spock being kind of betrayed by his love interest but after a bit of angst, everything falls into place and fluff is baaaack :>

Spock x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Language, sexual situations, daddy kink if you squint

Spock is a bit of a stubborn asshole in this one. He doesn’t like being lied to and will not stop at getting the truth, especially when he knows it’s about him. Spock may be a little too personal in front of Bones, but it’s an emotional situation. 

The buzz from your monitor diffused through the air, ringing in Spock’s ears. As low as it was it still brought him to groggily open his eyes. The whole room was wrapped in a soft blue glow. He sat up, hand immediately feeling the empty spot next to him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly sure how long,” you whispered, hunched over the screen.

“T’hy’la,” he said into the glow, tone sharper than he intended.

You hurriedly flipped off the monitor.

“Spock,” you said, “I’m sorry I woke you.” You tip-toed carefully across the room and crawled back under the thermal blankets. Your boyfriend have better been thankful that you were extremely cold natured otherwise the mere temperature of his cabin would drive you out of the room.

“What were you-”

“I was finishing up some work for the lab. I dreamed of it and woke and immediately I had to do it before it slipped my mind.”

He could sense your deceit in the way your voice wavered, but it also did that when you were grieving. He moved to find your hand in the dark, but failed as you began to massage his scalp.

Were you avoiding his touch? he wondered.

“Sleep, Sa-mekh,” you gently teased him with the only word that could make his scowl at you, other than ‘papa’ itself. He did like it in bed, however, as much as he denied it.

You paused, thinking of the word critically, a surge of panic leaving your hands. He could feel it, “Tell me what ails you. Who were you talking to a moment ago?”

“Myself,” you quickly yanked your hands away. “I really am sorry for waking you.”

He didn’t bother turning to face you or to further question you. It would come out eventually at the test of his impatience or yours. Something was upsetting you-he felt the raw emotion even through the follicles of his scalp. He would take more time to ponder-more time to investigate.

“I shall return to  sleep - as should you. You should participate in your work on the alpha shift singularly as your sleep cycles will continue to be disrupted therefore lowering you work efficiency-”

“And yours?” you finished for him, half joking. “Whatever you say, Commander.”

x

“I wish everyone would stop treating us like we’re married, honestly,” you said, crossing your arms in front of Doctor McCoy.

“All I know is that I’ve got an irritated Vulcan asking me to scan you. He thinks you're hiding something from me and he’s doing whatever he can to figure it out before actually asking you. Something about not letting him touch you. I tried to tell him it was normal once a month-”

You gave him a playful swat.

“Forgive me, I jest.”

“How ridiculous,” you replied and then sighed.

“That’s a man’s pride for you. It escapes no species,” Nurse Chapel said handing you back the report.

“And as you are hiding something, I’m guessing, I suggest you go on out with it. He’ll tear the ship apart finding an answer.”

“And how I think he used to indulge in smothering me in rapid fire questions. That was before our first meld,” you said, fingering the edge of the padd not having fully looked at it yet.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t tried that yet,” McCoy said, “He’s already hunted me down once. I’m not allowed to say anything, but as a favor to me-”

“Bones-”

“Keep him out of my hair and tell him whatever it is you’re lying about-”

You turned the padd to face him and his eyes enlarged, first with shock and then with mirth. He let out a hearty laugh.

“Good luck with that one. I’d say he’s gonna turn green, but that’s normal for him.”

“Have you  talked to your mother yet, honey?” Nurse Chapel asked.

x

Why would you have spoken with your mother so late an hour? Was it purposeful because he had been sleeping? Was it an emergency? Surely you would have told Spock.

He had already extracted the call log from his comm, even though the data had been private and locked under your information. You would fuss at him later he already knew, but this little inkling in the back of his mind reminded him. That raw feeling he felt through your hands. It terrified you. You were scared of something.

You were lying to him. You had lied to him. You had not been speaking to yourself. You had been speaking to your mother. He supposed he could contact your mother, but you two had never formally been introduced and some parties might find that offensive.

You were eating less and less and sleeping with him less and less. You weren’t being as intimate as you usually were either and that was most alarming. Not because it was a requirement to Spock, but because it was a deviation of your behavior. Spock didn’t usually adopt Terran colloquialisms, but once after sucking him off in the lab in the middle of a gamma shift he called you a ‘dirty bird’. He always made you blush when using Terran phrases and slang.

Was it something he did? It seemed he was always doing something, but Spock could honestly not place something accidentally offensive or insulting he might have said. You were pretty good at pointing out when he was too candid or too critical. He was good at pointing out when you were too emotional and too...well too human.

Yet he relished in every bit of that-and so did you, or so he thought you had.

So what was it?

Spock didn’t chew on his nails, but found himself letting the edge of his thumb rest in his teeth.

A familiar warm hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Look alive, Spock,” the captain playfully chided.

“I assure you captain I am in no way deceased.”

x

You were pregnant. It was that simple. Yet, it didn’t feel simple at all. You wouldn’t hardly let Spock even touch you for fear of finding out. You were terrified of his response.

You were puking in the bathroom and had called your mother immediately. It was the second week in a row and Christine’s labs proved it.

You had a bun in your oven. You could see Spock giving you the quizzical brow at the use of the expression. You could see yourself fussing a little, telling him you knew that he knew exactly what that phrase meant and to stop acting like he didn’t.

It was true what you had said to Bones.

You two weren’t married. It was perfectly normal to have a child out of wedlock- that was, on Earth. You hadn’t even met his parents. What would they say? It would only be a fourth Vulcan. He didn’t speak fondly of his father and whenever prompted you could practically read how sour their relationship was. His father had to be fond of humans to some extent-his wife was human after all.

Would other Vulcans shame Spock? Would they shame your baby?

You heard a buzz from the comm. You got up out of bed and walked over.

“McCoy to Yeoman L/N.”

“Yes, doctor?”

“I’ve got a green-blooded devil down here demanding your presence.”

You groaned into your fist.

“You can’t make me.”

“Please.”

It was the first time you ever heard Spock say that. The tone was nearly pitiful as it was on edge.

x

“You can’t make anyone get a scan, Spock. She doesn’t even work in your division,” Bones said once you arrived.

“She has not been eating, sleeping, nor participating in the normal intimate recreations. Her behavior is off and her pallor has changed considerably,” Spock argued.

“That’s not of anyone’s business, Spock,” you said, appalled. He was being...so unlike himself. It was even weirder that it was in front of Bones. Spock would rather eat his hat than be any kind of vulnerable in front of...well anyone. 

“He’s...he’s just worried about you,” Nurse Chapel offered politely from afar.

You groaned, “I wish everyone would just stay out of it. I’m not ready for this.”

“Well you should’ve thought about that before you...uh” Bones started but immediately stopped when you shot him daggers, “Spock, why don’t you just ask her?’

“She has deceived me once before. I do not trust her again to be candid. She is either emotionally upset with a matter and does not want to tell me because it concerns me or she is ill and is emotional about such and does not want to tell me. Either way I am...most concerned.”

It seemed Spock would be eating his own hat later. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Was he really this worried? 

“Spock...”

He turned to you, “I apologize for involving the doctor but I do not like it when you lie. Especially when I can be of assistance.”

You could feel water brimming at your lashes. “You’re so smart, Spock. Just so damn smart I hate it.”

You sat on the edge of one of the stretchers, tears dribbling down your face.

“Now, look what you’ve done, you ass!” Bones said angrily, “Out of my bay this instant.”

Spock ignored him and knelt down in front of you.

“I can help. And if I can’t we will find a way, ashayam.”

You looked up at him. “I am upset with something...and I am sick and it does have to do with you. Both of your guesses were right.”

You held out a hand. He assumed it was to meld, but it wasn’t so as you only placed his hand palm down on your still flat abdomen.

His eyes widened. “Y/N...”

“I know I lied about talking to my mother. I was just afraid you would find out and I wasn’t... I just don’t think we’re ready. I want to be ready, but I don’t know if you’re ready. We’re not married and I don’t want to cause trouble for you on Vulcan.”

He stared at your stomach for a long time, hand unmoving.

“I do not care what others think of me on Vulcan. I do not care what they think of my t’hy’la or my child,” he said with a tone of finality, “I only care what you think. If you are not ready I will not force you to beget my children.”

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“I do not think a parent ever truly is. My mother once spoke those words to me,” he admitted, “But it is not my say in the matter whether you choose to carry out the pregnancy. Do you wish to terminate the pregnancy?”

“No, Spock.”

He rubbed your stomach gingerly, “I am sorry for my behavior, ashayam. It was most ill-mannered of me. The mother of my child deserves better treatment.”

You placed your hand over his while it was still on your stomach, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t lie to you.”

“Well, well,” the doctor spoke up from the awkward silence beside his nurse, “I guess we ought to pass around cigars now?”

It seemed you both had forgot that Bones and Christine were still even there, witnessing the sappy moment between you two. 

Spock repaired that easily. 

“I will not allow my t’hy’la to engage in such a habit or for those surrounding her to do so. Certainly, doctor, you do not permit such unhealthy behaviors to pregnant persons.”

You laughed and Bones rolled his eyes.

Another day on the Enterprise, you thought. Another day.

tagged: @groovyfluxie @dontgivedeath @lumar014 @pringtella @moonchildlonan @superninjapervert420 @love-wanderlust15 @ischysiaclark​@imyourspacegirlfriend @hiddlestonme @fandoms4ever97 @mywellspringoflife​ @rebelchild93 @nilalunis16​

[powdermelonkeg]

Can you do Groose, The Fountain of the Horse God, and empty bottle please? I really loved the last one.

Yours Truly,

*Anon*

Absolutely.

Groose

So, the infamous Groose! Tall, stubborn, and loud, he's a well-known presence in Skyloft, and I love him.

The biggest assumption is that he's not very smart. This isn't true in the slightest; rather, he has a very tunnel-vision approach to his work. Whenever he decides on something, he'll funnel all the energy he's got into his goal; when he trains his loftwing, he notices every shift in the wind, every twitch of his bird, and adjusts accordingly. But in the process, he loses track of time and forgets his other obligations. When you're focused intensely on one task, you tend to be oblivious to other details.

The same thing applies to Zelda--his goal of going on a date with her blinding him to her disapproval--and the Groosenator--his mechanical work totally absorbing him whenever Link runs off to do who-knows-what. He has a very one-track-mind, and in the knight business, it serves him well...as long as he focuses on the right thing.

He's a skilled stunt flier, good in hand-to-hand combat, and a decent singer, all of those being skills he developed to try to woo Zel. Outside of her, however, he's got some amazing handyman skills and plant know-how; he's half the reason the gates and roofing in Skyloft is in tip-top shape, and 100% the reason Cawlin and Strich aren't failing Horwell's plant class. He's a bad cook, though; not because he can't do it, but because he gets focused on part of it--like making the icing for a cake--and burns the rest.

Groose knows Link's sign language because he needs to be able to insult him under the instructors' noses (and totally not because he felt bad for the loser, absolutely not, he'll kick your butt in combat class if you even SUGGEST that). The work involved to get that knowledge was a challenge to him, and he never backs down from one of those.

Onto his backstory!

Groose grew up in a nice house on the rich side of Skyloft. His mom used to do all kinds of stuff with his hair: braiding it, pinning it up, putting little clip in it. He hated every minute of it back then.

His dad worked as a gofer for the knights, delivering mail, getting soup, carrying newly-made swords around. Every opportunity, little Groose tried to tag along, hiding among the packages to try to get brought with the mail, climbing on his dad's back and refusing to let go, even going as far as to try to strap himself under his dad's Loftwing's wing.

None of those worked, but he did try.

Six years ago, a plague swept through Skyloft; the one that took Zel's mom.

Groose lost both his parents to that plauge. After the service for them, he spent a whole week locked up in his house, refusing help, or gifts, or consolation. It all felt hollow to him; there's no point in saying "sorry" if it wasn't your fault, or you couldn't do anything about it. That thought process is something he's held onto to this day--he doesn't need help, he can do things on his own, and he DEFINITELY never needs pity.

Groose joined the knight's academy shortly after; marched right in, slammed the headmaster's door open, and demanded he be put on the student roster. He wanted food that wasn't brought over with a "sorry for your loss," he wanted his own agency, he wanted to be left alone. But most importantly, he wanted to distance himself from his empty house.

He's so protective of his pompadour because it's his best hairdo attempt yet, and it reminds him of how his mom used to style it. It's not a sad thing, it's a matter of pride; insulting his 'do is like insulting both him AND his mom, and he's not gonna stand for that.

The Fountain of the Horse God

The Fountain of the Horse God was worshiped FAR more than the Fairy Fountains in its time. Horses have always been a big part of Hyrulean culture, so people from far and wide would visit to try to get blessings for their steeds. If you were unkind to your horses, however, bad luck would befall you; many an unobservant stablehand would find his horses escaped into the night, the doors to their shelter rotted away.

When Calamity struck, Malanya used the last of his power to free the horses still trapped in burning stables.

A century later, after Link came by, people in the area started to make offerings to the fountain again; they're hesitant, as the area is rumored to be cursed and looks a little eerie, but steady.

Malanya's power is weak, but each passerby gives him a little bit of his strength back. One day, he'll be at his former prowess, and any who dare harm horses in Hyrule had best fear that day.

Empty Bottles

It's not common knowledge, but glass was actually a luxury back in medieval times! The fact that Link is able to find 4-6 just lying around in most of his games is INCREDIBLE, and bottles he receives as gifts are the equivalent of receiving a painted porcelain teapot. They'd have been heirlooms.

That being said, I refuse to believe that the elixirs BoTW Link brews are actually stored in bottles. He never gets/finds glass, and mass production doesn't exist, especially not in THAT era. Leather pouches, yes. Wooden canteens, sure. Maybe even hollowed out acorns or carved bone. But not glass. Not when I can have 60 slots all filled up with elixirs.

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Saedii getting hurt and Tyler having to take care of her even though her stubborn ass doesn’t want to be taken care of

This is what i'm here for so enjoy!

~~

"Lie back and let me help you," Tyler says, pushing her shoulder. Saedii grumbles but acquiesces, solely because it hurts to keep sitting up. Tyler rolls back her shirt and she bites her lip to stop from wincing as the cloth sticks to her skin. Tyler grimaces when he gets a look at the burn covered wound on her stomach.

"Saeds, why were you and Karrii training with electrified weapons and no protection?" Tyler asks, grabbing the first aid kit scissors and cutting the bottom of her shirt off. Saedii shrugged.

"We didn't think we'd have to. At least I didn't vomit, like Karrii did when I got her back," she says. Tyler shakes his head but she can feel him wanting to smile in pride at her.

"I'm pretty sure I'd be a bad partner if I didn't waste my breath telling you that you have be more careful, Saedii. This might hurt," he finishes, laying something over her burned stomach that has her wincing and grabbing his bicep. "Sorry, I know it's killer but it'll fix the burn ASAP," the burn stung for a bit and then stopped hurting, as if it had no longer been there. Tyler takes the pad off her stomach and she sits up to see most of the burn gone, with just the cut remaining.

"Huh. Why do Syldrathi not have these things?" Tyler shook his head.

"They do, the Unbroken just weren't offered them because we were at war. Now, lie back down so I can stitch you up," Ty orders and Saedii frowns.

"I can stitch myself up, I don't need your help," Tyler raises an eyebrow and considers her words before standing up and grabbing the needle and thread from the first aid kit. Next thing she knows, he's straddling her thighs and pushing her back onto their bed by her shoulders. She stares up at him in surprise (and if she's being honest, a little bit of attraction) for a beat and he smirks slightly.

"Stay there," he says and sits up, observing where best to start stitching. He finds a place and then looks back at her, seeing her still shocked face. "Sorry for pushing you," he says and she shakes her head.

"It's all good. Now could you please stitch me up before Lae wakes up from her nap?"

~

"I've got her," Tyler says, stopping Saedii from getting up when the crying rings through the baby monitor.

"She probably needs feeding. I might as well just go," Saedii says and Tyler pushes her shoulder back down.

"You'll tear your stitches picking her up. I've got her," he presses a kiss to her cheek and then is gone. Saedii slowly sits up against the head board and waits, smiling listening to Tyler coo at Lae over the monitor.

"Saeds, you know you need to take it easy over the next couple of days right. No more fighting Karrii with electrified weapons," Ty says when he comes back into the room and passes a still fussing Lae to her.

"It's not that big of a deal," she says.

"It is to me. You need to give yourself time to heal from this,” Saedii set a challenging look on him.

“What are you gonna do to make me?” Tyler narrowed his eyes, but seemed to silently accept the challenge.

~

“Sit,” he demands and she groans at him, but stays standing. “Saedii,” he warns and her eyes narrow at him, her hands coming to rest on her hips.

“I’m fine,” she says and he grumbles and steps around the kitchen counter to stand chest to chest with her..

“Saeds, you need to sit and rest,” she shakes her head and he narrows his eyes. “Yes you do and I’m not going to fight you when I can just do this,” and then he sweeps her off her feet, making her hit his chest to no avail. He steps over the coffee table and places her gently on the couch and when she tries to get up, her straddles her, caging her in with his thighs.

“Ugh, you are the most annoying person I know,” she says and he smiles, running a thumb over her cheek.

“Ah but you love me,” he says and she nods haltingly.

“Unfortunately,” he snorts a laugh and kisses her anyway.

~~

Hope you had fun!

[tlcwrites]

Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly.  “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that���s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.