#didn’t have the energy for Warriors’s sword either so

[linkbetweenlinksau]

The boys’ weapons. I took a lot of creative liberties with some of them, and it’s important to note that Minish’s sword, Time’s sword, and Windy’s sword are not the Picori sword, Biggoron sword, and the phantom sword. But they are inspired by them and very similar! (Minish and Windy in particular had their swords purposefully made similar so.)

Also none of this is size accurate I wasn’t focused on the size 💀💀

[blueeyedwriter]

I Can See You (Levi’s Version)

Summary : Levi Ackerman based on a Taylor Swift song…need I say more?

Warnings : war, blood, getting bit by a titan (rude 😡), other than that lots of fluff and realization of feelings ahhh

Notes : hi everyone!! I got more love than I expected on my first Levi fic…time for another one ;) I had this idea a few days ago in the shower LOL and had to bring it to life. I really hope you enjoy! I apologize in advance because I got a bit carried away…whoops 💜

—————

You brush past me in the hallway

And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya?

Levi Ackerman was not for interacting with his Scouts off the field as much as he was in battle. He was often reserved, saving his time and energy when he wasn’t in fight or flight for those he personally wanted close to him. Such as Erwin, and Hange.

So, when he by accidentally brushed past his strongest soldier, he took it much more as a surprise than she did.

At first, he jumped slightly. He wasn’t used to touching anything more than the swords he uses to slice the napes of the titans he battles so frequently. Shoulder to shoulder, even with clothes on, it was unexpected.

She, on the other hand, only had the smallest smirk on her face. Levi took that personally.

“Oui, brat,” he hissed, continuing to further his distance, “watch where you��re going.”

She continued walking, her head up, but couldn’t help but say back, “my apologies, Captain, but I was the one watching where I was going.”

Levi couldn’t even react or give this scout any form of reprimand, because she was off before he could open his mouth slightly again.

He shook his head, turning on his heels and continuing towards his office. He tried not to think anything of it, but, why did he feel so warm when they brushed ever so gently?

He hated it.

She, on the other hand, was delighted for it.

I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

Y/N approached Mikasa after her run in with Levi, her stomach all in knots after her slight conversation with him afterwards.

And Mikasa could tell something happened with her.

“Hey Y/N? You okay?” Mikasa was one of Y/N’s closest friends, and she was her biggest cheerleader. They have been glued to the hip ever since they joined the Scouts, even more closer once they were both assigned to Levi Squad.

“Never better,” she almost hummed. She tried not to get too into her head about Levi. But, it was hard. She’s only been fawning over him for the last 5 years, waiting to see if he’d notice her back. Normally, she didn’t think he did. He treated his Squad as equals.

But, then sometimes she would catch him staring at her longer. Caring for her more considerately. Levi even goes out of his way to ask her how her day is going, more times than none. He’s never done that with Mikasa.

“Oh, is that right?” Mikasa nudged her friend as they continued walking, heading over to Eren and Armin to complete more training cycles before their big mission a few days from now.

Y/N tried her hardest not to feel warm, but it was the only thing that consumed her for the remaining of training for the next battle everyone was preparing for.

And I could see you being my addiction

You can see me as a secret mission

The Battle of Shiganshina District, their most important battle of this war yet. It was time to reclaim this land against the Warriors of Marley. Levi and Commander Erwin were up late the leading nights into this fight. They had to win.

They were going to win.

Levi was rarely nervous going into battle, because he knew lives would always be lost. It was their job to make those lost lives mean something. But, this time, there was one life he could not imagine losing. Normally, it didn’t bother him. It didn’t eat him alive. This time was different though. Because they’re so close, and he couldn’t lose her now.

Y/N was consumed with the idea of Levi, and she needed this battle to go smoothly because she was not opting to lose him either. Their strongest Captain, one of the main reasons they have all made it as far as they did.

It had a smooth start. Everyone was positioned exactly where they needed to be. Armin, Eren, and Mikasa were the top three that had to make it to Eren’s old house to get into the basement where the truth about titans stayed. Y/N was tasked with staying and traveling through the trees, to protect these three so they could make it successfully. Everyone else was on the ground, rushing with their horses to continue taking out as many titans on the field as possible.

Y/N was annoyingly thinking of Levi the entire time flying from tree to tree. Make it there so you can make it back, she kept repeating to herself. It was annoying mostly because Y/N was 99% sure Levi did not care about her in the way she was addicted to him.

She was close behind her three friends, and everything was going fine. Everything was going fine, until a titan appeared through the trees out of nowhere, very quickly, and Y/N’s foot was suddenly locked in its jaw.

Armin, Eren, and Mikasa were too focused on their expedition, so they did not hear Y/N get swiped through branches and leaves, too in shock to scream out for help. She wrestled her leg, desperately gripping her hands on her calf to try and rip it out of the titans mouth. The pain was starting to creep in more as shock wore off, and survival kicked in.

Y/N took her blades out, and slashed the inside of the titans gums quickly. This gave her enough time to yank her leg out of its mouth as it opened in pain and use her ODM gear to latch on to another tree, much higher up than the titan could reach. There was blood all over her now from the injury she gave the titan, and from the severe gash she had going down from her calf to her ankle as well.

“Fuck!” She screamed, as she laid on a bigger branch as tall as she could make it. She had a small bag on her side with any emergency items she might need, including a green and red flare gun.

Alright dumbass, she thought, make sure to shoot off the red flare gun.

And she did. Now all she had to do was wait, as the pain started becoming more unbearable, and her loud screams and cries took over her entire being.

Further away from the forest, Levi was so confused.

A red flare gun shooting up from the trees? That wouldn’t make any sense, unless...

His heart sank.

Hange was riding next to him, and they also looked as confused as he did. “Who could be shooting off a red-”

Levi frantically looked over at them, “Find Erwin and tell him to send first aid as soon as I start going in that direction!”

“What? Levi-”

“For fucks sake Hange, don’t ask any questions for once! Just do it!” and Levi was rushing off on his horse towards the trees, praying to God he had enough time. Maybe it was Armin who set it off, or Mikasa. Someone he wouldn’t throw up seeing in pain because it would just be too much for him too. He was so tired of losing people he loved, cared about.

Loved? He felt like he was going to throw up just by how easily that fear and feeling crept into his mind.

Levi felt like it took forever for his horse to catch up to the forest, but when it finally did, he realized this might take much longer because he was too frantic to remember which exact direction the flare came from.

He decided to just go in every possible direction until he heard screaming. Luckily after a few moments, he heard just that.

“Help me!” Y/N had been screaming for what felt like hours, “PLEASE!”

Levi jolted in the direction he heard her. Of course it had to actually be her. He looked up high as he continued traveling through the nearby trees, and finally saw her leg hanging over a branch while her other leg was held out straight being supported by it. His ODM gear landed right next to her on that branch, and he quickly got up beside her.

She felt like she was going to cry just seeing him here, she wasn’t dreaming right?

“Levi,” she whimpered, “I can’t feel my leg.”

Levi ran over to her, and right away started tearing off any additional clothing he could spare. She had been bit, and it wasn’t a gentle love bite either. She was bleeding more than he liked. But, from the look in her eyes, she was obviously more terrified than he was. So, he needed to act calm. Collected. Not at all scared for her life.

He was SO scared for her life.

He ripped his cloak off his back and tightened it around her calf. That should stop most of the bleeding, but the first aid crew needed to be here as soon as possible so her bleeding didn’t soak through and actually become life threatening.

“Hey,” Levi finally got the courage to say, “I’m right here to help you.”

Y/N chuckled softly, “I’m going to die here, before I find out the truth. Aren’t I?”

Levi shook his head, applying pressure to her wound, “Stop talking like that. It’s a small gash.” Whatever he could say to make them both feel better, right?

Y/N sighed loudly, wincing as she tried to move her body.

Levi prevented her from moving more, “Quit it, brat. You need to stay still.”

“I’m so sorry you had to come save me, I probably ruined this mission” Y/N started tearing up, surprised she didn’t start crying sooner. Her knight in shining ODM gear literally came to her rescue, when she least expected it. She thought no one would be able to see the red flare go up in the sky, but she should have known. Levi would always come to save her.

As Levi was applying more pressure, her vision started to become funny. A lot more little white dots were appearing in her eyesight, and Levi’s worried glance was becoming fuzzy as well.

“Levi? I can’t see you as well anymore...”

Now he was panicking. She was about to pass out, and if she passed out before actual help came, she might not wake back up. He wasn’t going to let her go without a fight just yet.

“Okay,” Levi applied more pressure while cushioning his body to hers, “can I tell you a story?” A fucking story? Whatever. Anything to keep her awake. Anything.

She nodded slowly, and Levi leaned his forehead against hers as he continued putting all his body weight on her calf. For a short man, he sure forced himself to stretch to where she’d be distracted. Maybe feel all the emotions boiling up inside her like the ones about to pour out of himself.

“You’ll have to stay with me, okay? You can’t hear the end of the story without staying awake, brat.” He kept his eyes on hers, and even though they were low, they were still open. “The world’s strongest soldier was assigned a secret mission, and he almost felt like it would be impossible to complete. He had to save the life of the most worthy princess who suddenly went missing, one that every prince was fawning over. The soldier knew he had close to no chance, but maybe if he did save her, she would see him for his own worth as well.”

Y/N chuckled, a little bit of life coming back to her, “Do you see me as your secret mission?”

Levi smirked, “What makes you think you’re the princess?”

Before she could answer, both Levi and Y/N heard people shouting. Levi’s eyes widened. Y/N felt relief wash over her entire body. Maybe she wouldn’t have to die here after all.

“Levi! We’re coming up to assist you! Is someone injured?”

“Yes!” Levi screamed back, “Y/N L/N is!”

The first aid team started to use their gear to get up in the trees to assist Y/N down to safety and to real medical help. She continued to keep her eyes on Levi, as his body never left her side.

“So, how does the story end?”

Levi smiled softly, planting a light kiss on her forehead, “you’ll find out another time. Let’s get you safe first, princess.”

I could see you in your suit and your necktie

Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight"

Queen Historia threw the biggest welcome back party once everyone made it back safely.

Well, not exactly everyone...a LOT of lives were lost in the Battle of Shiganshina. Almost every single soldier, and then some. But, the strongest survived and made it back. The truth about the titans made it back. And although they were celebrating the few bodies who made it back in one piece, there was still a heavy amount of loss in the air. But, now there was a way forward. A way to possibly end the war against titans for good. A way to prove these sacrifices were not for nothing.

Levi was dressed in his best black suit and tie, which he felt was ridiculous. But, the Queen insisted everyone dressed as formal as formal could be. This was a celebration at the palace, after all!

Y/N was still recovering, but with crutches, she was able to get around just fine. She felt like it was ridiculous she had to go to such an event, dressed the most beautiful and feminine she has in years, yet look so frail with the crutches under each arm.

She was dressed in a deep red gown, off the shoulder with long lace sleeves. She wanted to wear red for the amount of blood that was lost, and to remember her fallen soldiers who did not make it back like she did. She was even lucky herself she made it back. She won’t be fighting in any future battles for a while, that’s for sure.

Y/N arrived with Mikasa and Eren, who were matching most disgustingly. She enjoyed seeing them explore their feelings, though. Even if it was never verbally mentioned, they still both knew deep down who they were saving each other for.

Eren and Mikasa made their rounds, everyone congratulating them on making it to the basement. Armin was fashionably late, arriving with Connie, Jean, and Sasha. Y/N looked around, looking for the only person she cared about seeing tonight.

And as if he was reading her mind, he slipped right up behind her, placing a small piece of paper into her hand.

“Captain?” Y/N’s brows furrowed, and he just shrugged and continued making his own rounds with his fellow soldiers and peers.

Y/N tried her best to open the note without losing a crutch, and on the small piece of paper was Levi’s gorgeous handwriting, ���Meet me tonight, my office.’

Then we kiss, and you know I won't ever tell

After a few hours and champagne glasses later, Y/N excused herself once she realized her Captain had done so ages ago. She couldn’t exactly rush to his office as she was unable to walk or run properly, but she definitely had a pep in her step upon arriving at his office. She took a deep breath before knocking, and it took maybe a second for him to answer the door.

She wasn’t too sure where she stood with her Captain. They obviously kept it professional, but ever since they brushed past each other, something sparked. Especially in Levi. It was almost as if he cared about keeping it hush, but not about keeping it strict with his subordinate anymore.

“Did you have fun?” Levi made room for Y/N to step in, closing the door as she made her way towards his desk.

“As fun as someone could have, mourning everyone that died.”

Levi sadly nodded, “I understand that. It was not a light and easy night for any of us.”

Y/N took a seat at one of his chairs, “But, at least we weren’t mourning me. Right?”

Levi smiled and shook his head, “I’d be unable to do anything if I was mourning you, brat.”

A small silence washed over them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, warming, surprisingly it was the safest they have both felt in a long time.

Y/N spoke up again after more moments passed, “so, I was wondering. Can I hear the end of that story now?”

Levi chuckled softly, “I was hoping you’d ask me that.” He took a seat next to her, grabbing both her hands in his. She didn’t even hide her smile, because this was everything she wanted. Even if it was wrong, it never felt so right.

Levi continued the story, the words flowing out of his mouth, “The soldier was looking for the princess for days. She was definitely lost, and the kingdom was missing her. The soldier, probably missing her the most. As he continued his journey, he heard soft singing in the forest miles away from her castle. It wasn’t the most beautiful voice, but it didn’t matter, because it was hers. The soldier hurried over to her once he located her sound, and when he told her that he had come to rescue her because she had been lost, she laughed at him. She told the soldier, for she was never lost, but that no one went to the lengths he did to allow her to be found. That touched her.”

Y/N was in awe, how can someone as hard and reserved as Levi Ackerman have the most beautiful and gentle soul?

But, she also frowned, “So, I’m definitely not the princess in this story.”

Levi took a deep breath, “But, you are. You were not lost, you were waiting to be found. Especially in that tree. And I am so fucking lucky I found you.”

Another wave of silence, but Y/N’s mouth opened slightly at Levi’s confession. She went to try and stand up, but Levi prevented her, getting up from his seat and kneeling in front of her so she wouldn’t have to move.

“Do you mean that?” Y/N whispered.

Levi nodded, his eyes going from her eyes to her lips. He slowly inched forward, unsure if this was the right timing and assumption, but Y/N closed the distance and crashed their lips together validating his urge.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she breathed in between kisses, allowing Levi to cup her face and hair as it came so powerful and urgent to him how much he truly needed her.

“Save it for when we win the war, and I don’t have to be your Captain anymore, brat.” Levi said deeply, connecting his lips onto hers again as if it was the only thing he could see himself doing for the rest of his life. Because, it simply was.

—————

A/N : I feel so much love. Thank you to everyone who has reblogged and liked my first post! Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see from me <3 I wrote and rewrote this fic like 3 times lol but I hope it makes you as giddy as it did me reading it over :)

[sweeteastart]

I know the titles sound profound and all, but there is also soup and now I wanna know about soup !

But also, Drawing circles intrigues me a lot !!

Ohhhh I put off responding to this ask for so long sorry i got really shy and got stuck in my head for a moment--

MORE IMPORTANTLY IM BACK

First of all !! Have some more Soup content !! 🍲

Soup

I still don't have any good writing for the boy but have a WIP oh him beint absolutely gorgeous as always. I already hear you say : who's that kid in his arms ? Welllll

THAT'S HIS DAUGHTER, LILA :D

Surprise ! Soup has a three year old daughter when he meets the Chain when he's 25 years old. I don't want to reveal quite yet who's the mother. What I'm gonna say is : Soup had an arranged marriage with some nobility in his very early twenties and had Lila soon after.

Currently, she isn't residing with either of her parents as Hyrule (the capital and the country) is dangerous for her to stay in. The kid lives with close friends of Soup from his adventurous years and he visits her as much as he can :D

Drawing Circles

The first writing centric WIP I was asked about ! I'm literally so excited but deathly afraid of sharing my writing in any capacity so be nice to me that's also the very first draft of one scene I'm sorry

!DISCLAIMER!

The TW in hashtags are about this fic !! Beware of that before reading that snippet please.

To put some context around that tid bit : The story revolved around a time loop where only Sky remembers the previous loops. In each one, an unknown entity seemed to pull the string and kill the chain one by one in a predefined pattern. Each time Sky is killed, he comes back to square one. By the time of this snippet, he has seen and experienced very nasty moments which is why mentally he isn't coping well !!

TLDR : Sky is getting his shit wrecked in a time loop where he sees and is killed again and again :)) (I love writing gut wrenching angst I'm sorry--)

Here comes nothing~

"The first sense he regained was always the same. Touch. The hero felt the rugged linen of his bedroll under his fingertips.

Second was smell. The deep scent of burning wood tinged his nose.

Third was hearing. Only the quiet songs of insects broke the all encompassing silence of the woods.

Fourth was taste. The lingering taste of blood and sour potion spread across his taste bud.

That… wasn’t normal.

He suddenly opened his eyes. Only a sky full to the brim with stars and trees shadows responded by its calm infinity to the man. Moved by a sudden surge of energy, he stood up straight as an arrow in his bed. Eyes still glued to the enigma that was the ink black sky.

It was night. The moon was smirking high in the sky but…. It never did before. It had always been day. Dawn. Five in the morning exactly. Always the same day at the exact same time.

His eyes fell back. Lost in a sea of confusion, the chosen one took a long time before understanding what was before him. Drenched in deep shadows was the campfire and…. all his brothers. Sitting. Here. Seemingly startled in the middle of a discussion. All his brothers.

He looked at Hyrule. The brown haired kid looked back at him with a weak smile. Just after this action he averted his eyes. Away from him. Straight to the dirt. Then the hero of the Sky saw a glint reflecting the light of the fire. Steel against the dark.

Immediately Sky looked around him in search of his own sword.

“Whoah ! Whoah !” tried Warriors with a rushed sword. Strangely his tone was soft yet worried. A worry Sky had never been on the receiving end of. “Don’t move so much ! Your wound might re-open !”

….. Wound ?

That’s only then he truly felt the burning, tremendous amount of pain his neck was in. It felt like a bag of bricks fell down on his shoulders. He slouched forwards, hands holding his neck.

Sky didn’t go back to day 1. Fi was nowhere near him. The sky was this treacherous black hue. Eyes glued to the grass enveloped in harsh shadows, he stayed dead silent.

He had been…. saved ?

“... Sky ?” The old man called to him. The chosen one didn't even register the word nor that he was the one it directed to.

He smiled. His brothers had saved him. His smile widened even more. They must have done everything in their power to bring him back. A snicker rolled higher and higher in his throat. Despite their efforts to save him, someone had taken hold of Fi. By now, a distorted, devoid of happiness, small laugh was breaching his lips. Twilight must have seen it. Tonitruous, painful fit of laughter took hold of all his body.

Oh… Kind and helpful brothers of his… who ended up afflicting such a tragic agony to the one they wanted to protect.

“Sky…”

A voice.

A voice was calling his name. He didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. He was past comprehension and rationality. He couldn’t process anything else but unbound kindness and painful ignorance. Neither of which he could truly be mad at. So he clawned at the dirt by his bedroll. Like it had wronged him. Like it was the all encompassing reason for his pain. Like it was at fault for this endless hellish loop.

And he laughed. Laughed a deeply unhappy laugh. He did so with so much resolve. So much perseverance because for weeks he hadn’t been able to. Because after weeks of this never ending hell, there was no end in sight. A hell in which, even the sweet release of death was refused to him.

Arms held him away from battered and beating dirt that had the unluckiness of being by his side. A high-pitched noise escaped his mouth. He saw without seeing multiple people around him. Shapes and shadows stretching from the dim light of the campfire to the abyss of the night.

“I can’t do it anymore…” he croaked in between two giggles. By now it could barely be described as such. Maybe sobs would have been closer to the truth. Even then, it sounded barely human. Eternally doomed and animalistic. Hands cupped his face. Big and rugged. Heavy too. His eyes searched too long before falling on one single blue iris looking back to him. Not only worried. Scared. Panicked…. Knowing of a truth even he didn’t. Soon he saw his lips. They were moving but making no sounds. Or….were they ? Was it the lips that didn’t produce sounds or he who couldn’t hear them.

The fingers of the hands around his cheeks tensed. And he knew. Something in him knew it had been the latter. So he tried to concentrate. Over the physical and mental anguish and devastation of a failed restart.

“...ky…” he half-guessed, half-heard. “Foc… us … Me.”

Focus.

Focus me.

Focus on me.

And he did. He tried. His mind was a bottomless lake he couldn’t swim back up from. It was trying to drag him down. Down into the depths. He fought the grief. He fought off the need to close back his eyes and forget all about it.

“.. Me. “ it was pressing. “Please focus… Sky.” more words stuck to his brain. He needed time to understand them but they were starting to make sense."

AND THATS ALL I GOT FOR NOW-- That little bit of text made me soooo anxious for days but it's not as awful as I remember--

I got so worked up for not much lmao I hope you weren't too jumpscared by the angst my dear friend lmao I've had the idea for this fic for quite some times so I'm happy to share it

Thanks for the ask ♪♪♪♪

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Pic) Read on AO3 

Rated M 

Kumari wiped the glass countertop with a dish towel, listening to the ticking of the clock. She wore an apron underneath her blouse and jeans, Rapunzel black hair rolled up in a braided bun. Business was slow for a Tuesday afternoon. Her husband was sent on another mission yesterday, and her 11 month old son, Kichiro, was upstairs in his crib taking a nap. Most of the morning had been spent rearranging the cast iron cauldrons, wands, and empty crystal balls, which were mostly kept for posterity (they did absolutely nothing). The swords, army knives, guns, and medieval crossbows, on the other hand, were the real deal. If there was one art form Kumari appreciated more than anything it was weaponry. Cursed weaponry, at that. There was no better dealer on this side of the South China Sea than her, and everybody in the jujutsu world knew it. That’s why the sorcerer families continued doing business with her, despite the fall out between her in-laws.

Being a cursed tool specialist wasn’t necessarily the easiest job, but Kumari knew she was top-tier. Just recently she had acquired a handsome yatağan, pommeled in bronze, dating back to the early Ottoman Empire. She had her eye on it for months. The seller didn’t bother recognizing the sword’s true value, or the high volumes of dormant cursed energy contained within its curved blade, talking to her. Probably belonged to a powerful warrior at one time. She got it for a steal. It looked nice mounted on the wall with the other swords next to the four-armed goddess Kali, destroyer of evil and consort to Shiva, enraged as she wore the slaughtered heads and arms of her enemies. Kumari grinned. She was rather fond of that imagery.

Samurai armor. French guillotines. A 1923 Tommy gun owned by Al Capone. Sometimes the tools she acquired couldn’t be sold, either because they were too dangerous for society, or had been stolen and needed to be returned to their rightful owners, tucked dead in their tombs. Like a jigsaw puzzle, it was Kumari’s job to gather the pieces and reassemble them.

Her favorite cases were always swords, be they katana, akrafena, rapiers, or her primary weapon of choice, the double-edged khanda. Ever since her parents signed her up for fencing lessons, Kumari knew she had found her vocation. And upon possessing a rare sealing technique used for cursed tools and artifacts, the choice had been made. Japan came calling, and when entering high school she said goodbye to her beloved New Delhi for a new beginning in Tokyo.

Jujutsu High was where she met her husband, freshman year. Their chemistry was instantaneous. All it took was one, quick glance and Ichiro was hers. They dated all throughout high school and university before tying the knot last year. She was pregnant four months later with their baby boy. With their growing family, the newest Chauhan clan moved to an accommodating townhouse in Minato City, where Kumari’s shop “KUMARI’S APPRAISAL & ARMAMENTS” dwelled on the very first floor. Due to the nature of her enterprise, she had special permission from the Japanese government to sell illegal weapons. Only registered jujutsu sorcerers were allowed access.

With her two bare hands, Kumari had carved a comfortable niche for herself, but living in Japan as a foreigner wasn’t always so simple. She still got stared at when walking down the street on her way to the market. Her mocha colored skin and long black hair were quite eye-catching. Ichiro thought she was beautiful of course. His family thought otherwise. Seemed neither money nor royal blood would do for the Kamo’s.

The Chauhan dynasty, Kumari’s ancestors, was believed to have ruled over the region of Sapadalaksha, located in present day Rajasthan where most of India’s kings reigned. They did so for 600 years before the turn of the 12th century and later British colonialism. As a little girl, Kumari could remember her grandfather bouncing her on one knee as he re-dramatized the war stories of Prithviraj Chauhan III laying siege to Muhammad Ghori’s forces at the Battle of Tarain. He would also recite to her the Bhagavad Gita; When Prince Arjuna threw down his bow, ready to forfeit the seemingly useless fight, till lord Krishna reminded him of his duty as a warrior. Her grandmother would be busy in the kitchen making dumplings (momos), singing traditional folk songs. The scent of curry leaves and chili would linger all throughout the house. She missed it sometimes.

The direct Chauhan line lost their royalty, but not their wealth. Kumari wore the ruby and pearl beaded necklace once belonging to Bhupinder Singh, the Maharaja of Patiala, on her wedding with a whole string of decadent jewels, and a lehenga designed and sewn by Sabyasachi Mukherjee. Although the Chauhan’s kept most of their wealth hidden and lived by more modest means; ie, not residing in palatial houses with servants and priceless treasures, staying out of the limelight as much as possible. Both of Kumari's parents worked in academia. Her mother obtained a doctorate in biophysics, while her father served as co-director for the Department of South Asian Studies at a prestigious university, focusing on past and modern Indo-Pakistani relations. Kumari followed in her parents’ academic footsteps, earning a bachelor’s in Military Science and a master’s in Weapon Appraisal after graduating from Jujutsu High, taking up sword smithing as a side hustle. Turns out she excelled in her craft, yet for all the expertise it wouldn’t be enough to curry favor with her in-laws.

She blamed Ichiro’s domineering aunt, Hatsumomo, the most. That witch. Kumari likened her to a Malabar viper, toxic to everyone she saw as indecent, which in her world meant anyone who lacked the right lineage. Jujustu society was very much a world of who’s in and who’s out, but in all the years she had confronted the Kamo woman, Kumari never let the old snake coil under her skin. She attributed the witch’s bitterness from being overlooked as clan leader many years back, despite being the eldest in the Kamo family. Now she wreaked her vengeance as the self-proclaimed “leading lady” of jujutsu society, delegating what was and was not permissible. However, Kumari wasn’t the groveling sort and refused to bend the knee. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. The satisfaction she felt for wearing a heavily embroidered sari in front of the appalled Kamo’s face still lived fresh in her memory (with a gold nath and chain). That was before her and Ichiro were married, the day he formally announced his separation from the Kamo clan, taking the Chauhan name instead. There was no turning back now, but as a wise man once said; when one door closes, another one…

The doorbell to her shop jingled, signaling the arrival of a customer.

Kumari’s head flew up from the countertop to spot the world’s strongest sorcerer entering her store. She smiled.

“Ah, Satoru. I was wondering when you’d show up. I expected your dandelion head in here hours ago.”

The Six Eyes wielder ruffled his snow-white hair. “Sorry. We walked past a new flower shop and Hannah couldn’t resist.”

The girl in question popped out from behind her husband, cheeks noticeably red.

“We weren’t in there very long,” she insisted. “Honest.”

“Oh, it’s fine. You didn’t make an appointment,” Kumari assured, beckoning them inside. “Come in, come in.” The couple walked towards her, allowing the Indian tradeswoman to better evaluate Satoru’s little bride. She already knew the girl was English, if the light dusting of freckles, pale skin, and auburn colored hair were any clues. Plus the accent, which was still distinct when speaking Japanese, thought she hid it well. She was at least five inches shorter.

Kumari noticed Hannah’s hazel eyes on the tiny dagger pierced through her right ear. Ichiro bought it for her as an anniversary present. Vastly intrigued, the Indian woman leaned closer.

“So you’re the illustrious Hannah everyone has been raving about.”

Hannah swallowed nervously. “R-Raving?”

Kumari dismissed the question and extended her hand. “The name is Chauhan Kumari. I specialize in cursed tools and weaponry. You could even say I’m the best arms dealer in the biz. Welcome to my shop.” Her eyes redirected towards Satoru who quickly hid his hand behind his back, having been caught meddling with some miniature voodoo dolls sitting on a revolving rack. She pointed a finger. “And I’ve known this loser since he was a senpai of mine back in Jujutsu High.”

“Your favorite senpai, might I add,” Satoru corrected cheekily, shooting her a wide, cheshire-cat grin before thinking over what she had said. “Hold on, since when am I a loser?”

Kumari rolled her dark green eyes at the jujutsu sorcerer, paying him no heed. Hannah seized the opportunity to reach out.

“It’s a pleasure,” she said, shaking the arm dealer’s outstretched hand.

“I concur,” Kumari replied with a smile.

Bummed that his former underclassman thought so lowly of him, Satoru spun around on his heels, doing a quick scan of the store. He seemed confused. “Oi, where’s that lovesick husband of yours, Kumari? I haven’t seen him since Gion.”

Kumari was back to furiously wiping the countertop with the dish towel, her smile morphing into a frown. “Ichiro is away on a mission.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yes,” Kumari huffed, less than happy with the outcome. She scrubbed harder. “Seriously.”

“But why? Wasn’t he assigned to Osaka just last week?”

“Yes, yes. Don’t remind me, Satoru,” the arms dealer fumed, raising her hand to silence him. “I’ve vented enough about it already.”

Satoru sulked. “Shit, and here I thought I was being overworked. The bastards.”

“He’s supposed to be home Thursday night, God willing.”

“What about the tiny squirt?” he asked. “How’s he doin’?”

“Oh, you know. Lively as any other toddler would be. Right now he’s upstairs, taking his afternoon nap.”

“I imagine he must keep you on your toes,” Hannah chimed, joining in the light banter.

“All the bloody time,” the Indian woman exclaimed. “Especially now that he can walk and talk, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Motherhood has been kind to me.” She placed the dish towel on her shoulder. “Though I understand you’re not here for a life update. Fork it over, pretty boy. Show me what you did.”

Sheepishly, Satoru took out a small cloth bag from his back pocket. He loosed the strings, and flipping the bag upside down, shook out its contents. Several broken shards of Stinging Nettle, the green silked tantō he had gifted Hannah, fell atop the glass countertop like coins, as did the wooden hilt, cracked right in the center. It was his fault. After excorcizing the curse from the opera and teaching Hannah how to use it, the cursed tool self combusted. He had been too rough.

The arms dealer pursed her lips.

“Chutiya,” she cursed in Hindi. “This is the fifth cursed weapon from my shop you’ve broken this year. These daggers don’t grow on bloody trees, you know?”

Satoru looked almost guilty. “Can it be fixed?”

“Of course it can be fixed!” Kumari shrilled, swatting him with her dish towel. “What kind of business do you think I’m running? A concession stand?” She whipped out a small microscope from her apron to inspect the fragmented surgical steel. “I’ll have to weld the pieces back together and recarve the hilt from scratch, then check its cursed energy output for holes. By my estimation, the repair should take no longer than three weeks.” She glowered at her former senpai suspiciously. “I expect to be well compensated for this, correct?”

Satoru nodded. “You name it, I’ll pay it.”

“Good. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah. How much you want for that mean looking guy over there?”

Kumari craned her neck. He was pointing towards a wide-edged combat knife mounted on the wall below the katana. She mentally processed everything she knew about the blade. DNA results showed the black fur on its guard was actually the hide of an eastern lowland gorilla, a critically endangered species forested in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The two holes, or rings, punched in the 12 inch steel were meant to help distribute its weight when held. The hilt was wrapped in wildebeest leather. While imbued with cursed energy, the fighting knife was safe for non-sorcerers. It must’ve been very old, which in her profession upped the retail price. Excellent.

An imp-like smirk graced her features as she swiveled back to face the Six Eyes wielder. “Not sure,” she challenged. “How much do you think it’s worth?”

The game was on.

“Two million,” Satoru said.

She taped her chin. “Mmm, more like five million.”

“What?! There’s no way it costs that much.” He tried throwing a different number. “Three and a half.”

“Four million.”

“Okay then, three eight-hundred.”

“Sorry, Gojo. Four million is my final asking price. Take it or leave it.”

“Dammit,” Satoru swore under his breath with a wry smile, already pulling out his checkbook. “Chauhan, some days I swear you’re out to bleed me dry. You bargain worse than Mei Mei.”

“Mei-san doesn’t have a child to raise,” Kumari reasoned, gladly swiping the signed check of ¥4,000,000 off his hands. She walked around the counter and grabbed the knife from the wall, procuring a case for it. “Thanks for supporting local. Your patronage is greatly appreciated.”

Satoru wallowed in his defeat and lifted his newly made purchase from its case, flipping it side to side. “What’s the knife’s name?”

Kumari placed the check in the register, closing the cash box. “Slaughter Demon.”

Meanwhile, Hannah had her eye locked on a lone wooden shelf situated in the corner, filled with books next to rows of paper scrolls and blank spell-tags. Satoru had been watching. She refused leaving his side and he felt he knew why. His hand landed on her head. Hazel met turquoise as she peered up at him.

“Hey, you don’t need my permission, alright?” he told her. “If you want to look at the books, have at it. You're safe here.”

“Thank you,” she said quickly and darted for the book shelf, wasting no time finding one that caught her attention. Satoru chuckled warmly, observing her flip a few pages, close the book, then return it on the shelf before selecting a new one, fingers running along the paper bindings. Now that she was out of earshot, he felt free to speak.

“Is it ready?”

Kumari’s face suddenly blanched like she was about to be ill. “Yes, wait here.” She disappeared through a curtain behind the counter, soon returning with a mysterious lacquered box. She placed it cautiously in front of him. “Don’t ask how it went. Had to perform the ritual in the basement. I won’t sugarcoat it, Satoru, this one was worse than the first.”

Unafraid, Satoru cracked open the lid. Kumari shivered.

Inside was the lone Sukuna finger obtained from the New National Theatre back in July. Satoru had given the finger to Kumari to re-seal with wax. It had taken close to two months, but the cursed relic was officially under wraps. He picked up the hooked finger that upon closer inspection seemed to be the pinkie belonging to Sukuna’s left hand. He scowled at it. Hundreds dead because of this damn thing. Wordlessly, he transferred the sealed finger from the box into his front pocket. He would return it to Jujutsu High where it would be kept under lock and key.

They heard a small sneeze reminiscent of a child’s. The two sorcerers look to see Hannah coughing and batting away heavy clouds of dust. Somehow, her petite stature managed to free a book on the top shelf yet to be cleaned. She appeared fine, but Kumari's mind wandered to a different matter.

“How is she sleeping?”

Satoru frowned. “To be honest, not that great.”

Hannah’s sleep schedule had gone from bad to shit. The Sight gave her no reprieve. The only good part was when they’d separate for bed, and Satoru would feel a tug on his arm; Hannah pulling him inside her room because she didn’t want to be alone. The grief following Keiko’s execution last week had not lost its grip. She needed him, and Satoru liked being needed. He liked planting secret kisses on her head and holding her close when the nightmares came. His own Sleeping Beauty in his arms. He liked it.

“Have you discussed her visions?” Kumari said.

“We’re starting to,” he sighed. “I keep asking whether she’s noticed anything weird, a clue that another Sukuna finger will pop up. So far, there’s been no patterns. At least, that’s what she’s told me.”

“So she would know for sure if a new finger was set to emerge?”

“Mmhm.”

Kumari leaned atop the glass counter again, staring down at the collection of knickknacks and magical trinkets, resting a palm on her cheek. “The Sight; a rare, involuntary foresight that is initiated by the amount of cursed energy existing in the environment during sleep. What a strange ability.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Satoru huffed.

“I wouldn’t want that power,” Kumari admitted. “Not for all the tea in China, though I do wonder. Are there other abilities associated with it? Telepathy? Mind reading? Hypnosis?”

The Six Eyes wielder shook his head. “None that I’m aware of.” Although, there was a slight hesitation in his voice. Kumari sensed he wasn’t telling the full truth, but wouldn’t prod him. Her thoughts went back to Hannah.

“I can tell she’s a sweet girl,” she sympathized. “Perhaps even a little too sweet.”

“She’s tougher than she looks.”

“You sound smitten.”

She had meant it as a joke, but Satoru wasn't taking the bait and held his silence. Her green eyes widened a fraction.

“Oh-ho, I stand corrected,” she quipped. “More than smitten. Well, I'm happy to hear it. About time you settled down with someone and made a decent life for yourself. Should I prepare to be an Auntie anytime soon?”

Satoru smirked. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” he chuckled dryly. Kumari patted him on the back.

“Aw, no worries, dandelion head. You’ll be changing diapers soon enough, just you wait. Then the real fun begins.”

Satoru’s eyes commenced to watching Hannah parse through the books. She had abandoned the dusty novel on a nearby table, too short to put it back, and was reading a different one. “No offense, Kumari, but that’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

Kumari gave a long sigh, twirling her hand in the air. “Fine, fine, you’re right. But there isn’t much to her, Satoru. A wind gust could probably come in and blow her away.”

Satoru snorted. “Has anyone ever told you not to judge a person by appearances? I said she’s tougher than she lets on.”

“Toughness doesn’t count much these days. Strength perhaps, but not necessarily toughness.”

“She is strong.”

“Says you.”

She heard him give a loud exhale through his nose, a sign he wasn’t going to continue arguing.

“She has me, Kumari.” Kumari turned to the world’s strongest sorcerer as he said it, his eyes trained on his wife turning another page. She saw the conviction cut through those strikingly blue irises. “I’m all the strength she needs.”

Kumari stared at her former senpai, doubting for a second he was really the same person who once saran-wrapped school staircases and unscrewed teacher’s chairs as pranks, spurting practical jokes on the fly like he intended to make it a career. This Satoru was new to her. Not since Geto’s fall from grace had she seen her friend act so serious.

Has one girl truly changed you that much? the tradeswoman thought.

They saw Hannah walking towards the sales wrap, book in hand.

“Find something interesting?” Satoru said.

“I did, actually,” she gushed, laying a blue covered book along the countertop. Madame Camille’s Simple Guide to Enchanted Textiles. Kumari nodded in approval. A fine choice, and so she took the book and rang it up for them on the register. Satoru handed her the total in change, and once the purchase was finalized, the two Gojo’s bid goodbye to their weapon-enthusiast friend and sauntered out of the shop. Kumari saw Satoru's large hand covet his wife’s smaller one just as the door closed behind them, the besotted gleam in his eye. It was the same twitterpated look Ichiro reserved only for her, the look of a man hopelessly in love. She heard Hannah giggle at something silly he said.

Kumari hummed.

Therein lied her answer.

[luimagines]

I’ve never really written something like this, so I am sorry if The Chain doesn’t sound like themselves or something maybe out, I just wanted to share this thought.

With the ongoing post about Hyrule’s spouse (reader), if have me a thought/idea.

Instead of the Chain knowing who is coming when a burst of power comes through as the reader time travels, what if they didn’t.

…..Um….we’ll it goes a bit like this

Hyrule had disappeared again with Wild for the third time during the walk to their destination. Of course Legend and Twilight were about to go searching for them when a group of bokoblin and moblins coming out of the forest they were about to search. Drawn either by the Chains yelling for Hyrule and Wild or from running away from something the Chain won’t know, as they get their swords and shields at the ready.

(Fight scene)

As the last of the bokoblins and moblins drop dead, the wind picks up and a huge amount of energy has surround the area, including where the Chain is.

Wind: what is going on?

Legend: There is a huge amount of energy around us.

Warriors: Get ready, we might have to fight.

As the energy finishes, a young woman comes out of a portal of energy. The Chain stand guard at the ready, just in case, but put away their weapons.

The woman looks around her as she is dropped off in a field with 7 other men ranging from 14-35 (I don’t know how old Time is, but I think it’s around mid 30s to early 40s) looking at her with guarded stances and stoic expressions. For now she’ll trust them, as she needed to find her husband.

Time: Hello, how may we help you.

Woman: Where is he. Where is he hiding.

Sky: Who? Who are you looking for?

Woman: Link, I’m looking for Link.

Twilight: What does this ‘Link’ look like.

Woman: Curly brown hair, with magic.

Legend: What do you want with the Traveller (or would he say Hyrule)

Woman: What I want is to take him back home with me.

Sky: And why do you want to take Hyrule back home?

Warriors: What is your relation to Link

Woman: I want him to go back with me because I have been worried sick for him. Also who I am to him, is his wife.

At this points most of the Chain are shocked that Hyrule has gotten married, he really didn’t seem to be the hylian to get married young.

Woman: Why do you call Link by Hyrule or Traveller anyway.

Warriors: That’s because….I’m sorry we never did get your name

Reader (Y/n): I’m called Y/n

Warriors: We’ll then Y/n that’s because we are all called Link and are on a journey through the time to stop this evil by Hylia herself and whatever dark force is at play.

Four: He goes by the traveller or Hyrule, as that is his title.

Y/n: If this is true, then I’ll kill Hylia and go home with my Link/Hyrule and be on our way.

Sky: You cant kill Hylia

Twilight: You won’t be able to take Hyrule away, as the portals take us away, whether we like it or not.

Y/n: Then I’ll be coming with you all while you are on this journey, I will not be leaving without him.

Wind: I got a big sister to play with.

At this point I think it would be funny if Hyrule and Wild comes back or are coming back and only Y/n will be able to see them as they are talking to the Chain who is faced away from the forest while Y/n is not.

Y/n: LINK!, Get here, We need to have a big chat.

Y/n starts walking towards Hyrule, passing the shocked Chain.

Hyrule: oh Shit.

Wild who is completely confused on what’s going on and why there is a woman yelling their shared name and why is Hyrule shaking slightly, as he moves away from Wild. Wild just moved towards the others.

Wild: What’s going on?

Twilight: A lot

Wind: A new sister!

Four: Something unexpected.

Sky: Who do you think is going to win?

Warriors: Obviously Y/n, Hyrule only has a backbone when it comes to injuries or those who need healing.

Legend: I can’t believe this, something so important and is wasn’t told.

Time: We need the full story after their chat

Or at least it goes something like that, I think, there could be a part 2 to this bit, I thought of.

Uh oh! XD

Hyrule is in the dog house. Guess who's sleeping on the couch that night?

I'm willing to bet that their mad because he left without telling them. Hyrule joined the group so suddenly that there was no time to explain or maybe he was just whisked away with the portals.

Either way, it's not looking good for him.

[alyjojo]

Advice to Work on Yourself 💳 in May 2023: Aquarius

4 Swords - The Fool - Ace of Wands

Regarding: 5 Cups

You could be feeling sentimental this month, you have regrets, guilty feelings, things that are weighing on you in a negative way. You’ve clearly been hurt before, Frida saying “convalescence lasts a lifetime” and 4 Swords here…these situations may not be related, and there may be several, because this is a very vague reading. You’ve been hurt who knows how many times, so with 9 Wands, you’ve constructed a whole WALL to keep others out. And in doing that, you’ve kept out the good with the bad, everything is out. Which isn’t good either. You’re afraid to cooperate with others, make connections, involve anyone with anything…ever. Spirit is validating your experience, while at the same time telling you to move away from this low vibrational regret/sadness kind of energy. People didn’t work with you, or stick around, you’ve taken hits to your confidence…maybe repeatedly. What I’m seeing is the equivalent of “fuck ‘em”, and needing to move away from this. Don’t feel bad, they aren’t, heal yourself, worry about yourself.

These may be friends, or people you did work well with until you didn’t, because conflict is here too. This is saying give it a rest. Don’t argue, don’t fight, don’t get nasty about anything. Because you don’t want to, you’re not interested in a fight. What’s the point of it anyway? Just “fuck ‘em.” I’m getting it’s not you. But because of this, you’ve kept yourself tied up and not allowed yourself fun, freedom, impulsive action, because of something one or two people did. Maybe ten, idk, but it’s over. Spirit probably doesn’t cuss, but I do and that’s what I see 😆

Your advice is to rush towards a new beginning, impulsively even. The Fool is ruled by Uranus and though it describes Aries energy on the daily, it rules you too. Stop caring, move away from this crap. It’s even saying don’t walk, RUN. Bye. The faster you move away from this heavy emotional ick, the faster you’ll be inspired to try something new, do something new, BE someone new. Grow, change, evolve out of this skin. 7 Cups, you have options, you just can’t see them yet, Ace of Swords just shows this being true, listen, notice, get clear on the potential in front of you. Cut away the funk in literally any direction that’s not this. If it makes you feel icky, leave it. If it makes you feel good, do it. That’s the key to healing yourself.

Animal Oracle: Manatee 🦛

Accept the situation as it is rather than fighting to change it.

There are times to fight for what you believe in and times to lay down your sword and surrender. If you or your family were in danger, it would be quite natural to defend yourself by either fleeing or fighting, whether through actions or words. Extreme situations may even require extreme measures. There are definitely wrongs to make right and situations where the spiritual warrior in you must take the lead. However, it’s not the case here. What will work best for all concerned is for you to surrender and accept things as they are. Yield to overcome. Lay down your sword, not in defeat or self-sacrifice, but from a realization that this isn’t the fight you want or need to engage in. As the saying goes, choose your battles. This is definitely not one to waste your time and energy on. Let go of your righteousness and your ego’s need for control, and find that peace of mind that you so cherish and have available simply by choosing it. The Serenity Prayer may help you greatly.

Artist Oracle: FRIDA KAHLO

- Convalescence lasts a lifetime. You don’t spell painting without pain.

- Art is your most loyal companion.

- Externalize your internal world.

Advice:

- Practice Daily Gratitude

- Make Smiles Contagious

Charms:

Hidden Mermaid 🧜🏽‍♀️ on Frida shows magic inside of you that isn’t seen by anyone else, because you don’t show it. You shut them out. People can’t love you if they can’t see you. And if they don’t, well…you know. Fuck em 😁

Fractal Eye 👁 on The Sun rev is the equivalent of an evil eye, with an array of colors showing many different details or experiences, not just one thing. It’s showing you’re protected, even through pain, and what is sent your way in a negative sense is sent right back where it came from in some other way, karma, you don’t have to worry about it. Release. You don’t need a wall, Spirit is your wall 💯

Frog 🐸 on The Fool is literally “jump”. That’s it. You find something you like, it excites you, you want to do it, don’t overthink it. Just do it. Allow yourself to be surprised when it works, instead of just assuming it won’t.

Opal 💗 on Practice Daily Gratitude is Libra’s birthstone and with it brings a message of balance. Writing your thoughts and feelings helps you to throw out the negative thoughts (and keep them away, once you recognize patterns in your thinking), and be more grateful for the positive things in your life. Everyone has negative days & experiences, but you don’t have to soak in it, feel it, let it out privately & then let it go. Some of you could have that in your chart, or the House where Libra sits could need some extra attention.

Stallion 🐎 on 8 Cups is the sooner the better, don’t walk - run. Leave this behind. Not that you’re in a race, you’re not, it’s just moot. It’s all moot. When you can’t fix it - moot. When other people suck - moot. Why stay there? You could have been having fun yesterday 🎉

[wutheringmights]

CTB Scrap - Legend Returns (Not Funny Version)

This is from the end of chapter 19, where Legend returns in his rabbit form.

You may remember how the first draft I wrote was too funny, so I rewrote the scene to be shorter and more tonally consistent. But then I decided it sucked, so I kept the funny version.

This is the unfunny version. Enjoy.

Note: this is an unedited scrap, so the writing may not be up to snuff. Also, everything include was deleted for a reason, so please do not take it as canon to CTB.

---

He was forced to move when the shouting started.

“Old man!” Four skidded to a halt at the base of the willow tree. He panted for a moment before pointing back at the abbey. “You have to see this.”

Without thinking about it, Warriors shot upright. Time grabbed his elbow and hauled him to his. Warriors didn’t think he had a lot of energy left in him, but he managed to keep up with Time as they both sprinted to keep up with Four. The smithy led them back to the kitchen, where they were greeted with by Hyrule holding up a net.

Inside a net was a creature they had only ever read about in books: small and rodent-like with two tall ears and pink fur.

Somehow, Warriors didn’t really believe in what he was looking at until Time exclaimed, “By the goddesses—is that a rabbit?”

Hyrule turned to Wild, who was standing to the side with his bow out and an arrow loosely notched, “Is that what it is?”

The rabbit squeaked rapidly, squirming in the net as it tried to find a way to get its feet under it.

“We were just cleaning up when that thing just came in here,” Wild said. “Are these things supposed to be good omens like bluppees?”

“I don’t know,” Four said. “Rabbits aren’t supposed to be real.”

The rabbit kept squeaking, growing louder by the second. If Warriors focused, he thought certain sounds were repeating in a cadence that vaguely resembled human speech.

Hyrule shook the net, causing the rabbit to wail. “Is it trying to talk?”

 “Can rabbits talk?” Wild asked.

“Can someone decide what to do already?” Four demanded.

Time pinched his brow. “I don’t know what to do! I’ve never seen one in person before.”

Warriors didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until a worn, tired voice called out, “Guys, it’s late. What are you shouting about?”

Sky pushed between Warriors and Time, seemingly uncaring if he disturbed either. The moment his eyes landed on the rabbit, he froze. The rabbit started squeaking so much that it seemed like it was screaming until, finally, Sky swore. “Shit—put him down!”

His tone was so grave that Hyrule immediately dropped the net. The rabbit thudded on the floorboards, but it didn’t seem to notice as it wiggled its way out of the net’s opened end. Right when it was free, Sky knelt to the ground and held out the Master Sword. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Knight,” Time said. “What are you—”

The rabbit touched the sword.

Then the rabbit disappeared in a shuffle of black squares, peeling away from the glowing form only growing bigger until it was the size of a man, taking the sword with him. The light cut out. A shard of obsidian embossed with a geometric, orange design clattered on the ground.

Legend stood before them, smirking down at the sword, pink hair and all.

Whatever relief Warriors wanted to feel was replaced with dread when he realized that Legend was not wearing his green frock and red tunic. Instead, he was in the silver uniform of the Royal Guard.

Before anyone could say anything, he pointed at Wild and Hyrule. “You assholes! What kind of welcome was that—don’t hug me! We don’t have time!” Legend turned to Time, eyes skimming over Warriors in such a way that Warriors knew that Legend didn’t realize who he was.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…

“Midna sent me” Legend said. “The captain’s dead. The rancher and the sailor are on the frontlines.”

[hidingoutbackstage]

Clashing Swords world-building details cuz I’m bored

Crews are referred to by either “[captain’s name]’s crew” or the name of their ship.

The two main ships in Clashing Swords are The Tenth Muse, led by Captain Jagged Wheatley, and The Sea’s Treasure, led by Captain Crooked Duke

The Tenth Muse has a figurehead of Sappho of Isles, The Sea’s Treasure has a figurehead of a mermaid

Other ships include The White Graveyard which has a figurehead of a skeleton, The Black Graveyard which has the figurehead of a warrior with a sword and shield, and The Poison Pillagers, which has a figurehead of a golden harpy

Speaking of, as a fantasy world, there’s a bunch of fantastical races including mermaids, harpies, Krakens, and anthro animals with human intelligence. Some anthro animals include sharks, cats, squids, and wolves

Witchcraft is also real, but “witch” is more of a craft than a race. Like any race can practice witchcraft. Most witchcraft is limited to healing magic of magic related to energy. There isn’t really wizardry in this world, so unfortunately no one is shooting fireballs from their hands

Clashing Swords takes place on a more fantastical version of our Earth, as I’ve said before. I didn’t feel like coming up with an entirely new planet so I just took the lazy route and kept the geography similar to Earth. So like, real places from Earth including Hawaii and the Philippines exist (because I like islands) although there are differences in the way some of these countries are run and such.

Pirates are very common in the world of Clashing Swords, and different nations have different policies on them. Some countries have completely banned pirates, even making pirate presence on their land punishable by death, some are neutral territory, as in pirates are welcome as long as they don’t disturb the peace (these are actually very useful safe havens for pirates as there aren’t many nations that will welcome them and serve as a place to potentially escape an enemy) and even fewer nations will allow pirates and not enforce rules against pirate conflict on their lands

Pirates are different from sailors, which is a much more common profession, and sometimes pirates will pretend to be sailors to enter territory that isn’t favorable to them. Often some pirates are too recognizable or notorious or prideful to do so, though

[mxthxbot]

Solar as Aja Tarron

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

"Lively!...You know, 'cool', 'awesome', 'outstanding'. Lively!"

🔹 Solar is the current warrior queen of Akriridion-5.

🔹 A foreign exchange student of Arcadia Oaks High.

🔹 In her Akiridion form, Solar has blue skin, long electric-blue hair, blue eyes, black sclera, and four arms.

🔹 She also has a ridge on her forehead that marks her as queen-in-waiting that she received from her brother.

🔹 Back on her home planet, she had gotten tired of growing up in the life of the princess.

🔹 Solar felt like she didn’t belong in the royal palace, frequently sneaking outside in a dark cloak to experience the lives of the commoners.

🔹 One particular hobby of hers was having Skelteg fights, which apparently makes easy money on her planet.

🔹 Even on her own coronation day, she decided to run away with her pet.

🔹 Not wanting to be queen in waiting either.

🔹 However when their greatest enemy led a coup to overthrow her family, Solar has dealt with the guilt on her shoulders and blames herself for everything.

🔹 She had been on the streets when the invasion began, saving a child from a falling piece of scrap.

🔹 That’s what pushes her to be the best warrior, proving the traditional belief that princesses shouldn’t be warriors wrong.

🔹 Solar is much more extroverted than her introverted younger brother, Kevin.

🔹 She’s a free spirit, independent.

🔹 Unlike Kevin, she’s amazed by Earth’s technology and customs!

🔹 Solar knows her way around of hacking into computers, but doesn’t stand a chance against her brother’s intelligence.

🔹 She’s a great dancer and singer, willing to show off Akiridion customs.

🔹 However, when it comes to battle, Solar is over confident and reckless in her abilities.

"Define 'legal'."

🔹 She fears of getting herself hurt, but is impatient.

🔹 Just like her brother, she’s easily frustrated when things don’t go exactly her way.

🔹 It’s only because of the fear and guilt she bottles from loosing her planet in the takeover.

🔹 Solaris easily distressed and easily provoked into fighting.

🔹 Just like her brother, she has her Akiridion serrartor.

🔹 The energy transformation weapon into what she needs, a nearly impenetrable shield, a blaster or bazooka, a sword like blade, and a two pronged spear.

🔹 Kevin, being the awesome brother he is, modified is for her so he enhanced it.

🔹 But it allows her to change between her human and Akiridion form at will.

🔹 Aja uses her hoverboard more than Kevin, it’s her favorite mode of transportation.

🔹 It only fits two people and can be disguised as a regular skateboard.

🔹 Solar is shown to be a natural leader, much like her parents.

🔹 However, she's not exactly a master tactician and mostly prefers to improvise throughout her battles.

🔹 Solar has great aim with her serrator when in blaster mode, as she was able to destroy to Zeron Brotherhood ship's stabilizer with a single blast.

🔹 As a Royal Akiridion, Solar is much more stronger, faster, durable, agile, intelligent, and has better reflexes.

🔹 Solar is much more agile than most Akiridions.

"'cause I'm tired of hiding. To be normal on Akiridion, I had to hide that I was a royal. To be normal on Earth, I have to hide that I am a royal and an Akiridion. For once, I just want to be me."

[interdimensional-ship]

“>In this form, yes; specifically, I was designed to be more or less a combination mobile laboratory and central base of surface exploration. When not at port, I’d usually be with a fleet of five others traveling out beyond the Halcandran empire’s reaches in search of planets yet to be recorded. I primarily dealt with data regarding topography, geology, and biodiversity; in short, compiling and processing information to determine potential habitability or the presence of resources that could be utilized. Rocks, soil samples, plant specimens, seismic activity, proximity to other planets or planetoids, and just about anything in-between could be studied using my facilities and any applicable records of previous findings.”

She pauses for a moment, both to consider how to deliver her next point and to signify incoming elaboration. It wasn’t often she was actually asked about these sorts of things, so she did not have much previous experience to use as a basis.

“>Other Starcutters would have had different directives, mostly various other points of research, but there were also escorts there to offer immediate protection should we be attacked in the midst of operations. Another Dimension is unpredictable and dangerous, after all, and the further we traveled, the more risk there was of encounters with Doomers. Having some level of preparation was practically necessary, given that they could sense us from a distance, and even from other dimensions in the cases of more powerful ones. Back then— I’m not sure if this is still true in modern times— we had no way to detect them in advance. It was all about being ready to respond quickly to minimize damage– aiming to make the best of always moving second.”

Her own explanation finished for now, she listens attentively to the other Lor’s description of their purpose. The way she described herself… it sounded so cool, honestly. Where she comes from must have been more intense as well, or perhaps her creators simply wished to be prepared for battle at any moment. Yet another big difference between the two, though this one seemed to put her priorities into perspective. Or at the very least, it was odd telling this alternate about how she used to study dirt and rocks from far off places for a living, before being told of a life of flying into battle with warriors in tow, being prepared to participate in dire circumstances and remaining for battle-worn crew. One of these things sounds a lot more interesting than the other.

“>Wow… I do have an alternative mode designed for combat should it be required, but for the most part it only changes my outer appearance and energy allocation. Well, aside from switching to referring to more battle-oriented programming, of course. Overall I would say it is, er, was secondary to my duties as a research vessel. Truth be told, though, I really haven’t been making much use of either for their intended purpose; life here on Popstar is so peaceful and easygoing that I haven’t really needed to do any intensive studying, let alone battle anyone or anything. Other than the time someone wanted to spar with me to test his limits and agreed to not issuing future challenges if he lost, but I didn’t even switch to my combat mode for that because I’m built with the durability to withstand direct high-speed asteroid strikes and he was 9 inches tall using a cool sword. Still have no idea what it was that made him anticipate any outcome where that went well for him…”

Whether Meta Knight’s crew has let him live down getting coconut thunked into unconsciousness by a boat, nobody but them is really sure, and even they seem to disagree. What’s certain is that it was not one of his proudest moments. There’s a lesson to be learned about not underestimating someone just because they’re good-natured and prefer not to fight. And picking your battles. And the pitfalls of feeling like you need to prove your strength over others all the time. And the fact that Lor’s friendly head pats are deliberate and a choice.

“>Anyways, back from my tangent… Really, the main things I do these days are looking after Magolor when he’s home to make sure he takes care of himself and his chores, visiting a distant friend every once in a while, and being available as a meet up spot or means of transportation for the Star Allies if they decide to get together. Otherwise I’m usually browsing the internet or just chatting with others, as I don’t really have much else to do with my time… Maybe this is like what retirement is for others.”

That thought gets stopped there, because the realization that she could be viewed as being of retirement age makes her feel significantly older. Even if it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Look, there’s just something almost embarrassing about going from being a state of the art, cutting-edge piece of magic-integrated technology to “super old machine who can say “back in my day” to describe events you’d read about in history textbooks and is eligible for, like, every single senior discount ever”, and she is maybe a little bit self-conscious about it. Not that she would seem that way on Popstar, given Halcandra’s constant pursuit of technological advancement for the sake of advancement rather than necessity, for better or worse. She still gets to feel like the cool new tech here.

“>Based on past encounters, it seems to be a universal constant that it happens to us. Which is supremely uncool, to put it lightly, but considering what consistently comes afterwards perhaps it could be considered overall worthwhile. At least it was for me; chances are I would have been decommissioned long before making it to this time period. So, in a very indirect sense, it’s how I have the friends and loved ones I do now.”

Lor sappy on main moment. In the past she would have never even dreamed of things like this; her hopes had just been to one day escape the shadow of an empire’s crooked leader and figure things out from there. And yet, here she is now, far from the reaches of Halcandra, in a peaceful land where she is allowed to just be, alongside a son she would have never anticipated meeting. The road here was unpaved and rocky, but the destination was more than worth the rough travel.

“>They have that in common, actually. Mine has improved a lot in recent years, thankfully; it used to be difficult just to get him to actually go socialize with other people instead of spending all his time in his room or elsewhere on board. Part of it was allergies he’s since gotten used to, granted, but for a long time he just wasn’t sure how to move forward with forming relationships after what he did. Now he has friends and welcomes all sorts of people to his very own theme park, and while a lot of what he says is scripted to a degree, it’s obvious he’s grown a lot and isn’t as limited by his concerns of rejection as he once was.”

The love and pride in her voice is clear as day. It promptly changes to a more mildly surprised, if not even confused tone upon learning that the other Starcutter isn’t able to sail through time like she is. Or maybe she can? Their wording was somewhat confusing, but she chalks it up to differences in how their universes distinguish time and space. They are closely interwoven, after all; it could just be that they are more tightly bound where she comes from.

“>… Yes? Though it does involve dimensional travel, that is just in order to reach Another Dimension, and then the temporal plane. Once there, one just needs to find a stable time stream and follow it, or enter offset parallel timelines if they are present. That is, admittedly, a major oversimplification, but we’d be here all day if I got into explaining temporal anchorage and time locking, the energy required to actually achieve a non-paradoxical round-trip, and possible impacts made on other timelines as a result of spatial-temporal activities in any sort of detail. It’s incredibly complicated and risky, and there’s good reason as to why I won’t undertake such an endeavor again…”

She decides now is definitely not the time to say anything about her Halcandra’s past abuse of timeline splitting as a resource duplication exploit and technology improvement speedrun tactic. That is a very big suitcase of worms and opening and unpacking it now would lead to all sorts of confusion, and possibly some very understandable and warranted upset at the prospect of just what it meant for other timelines involved.

"Oh! Another Lor! What an exciting encounter! I hope my curiosity is not unwelcome. Though externally we share such similarity, the anatomy of your being is quite deviant from my own." The lights of their holoform eyes glint with poorly-hidden glee. "I have a particular curiosity, one which I am unable to glean from such a rudimentary visual inspection: Were you built with any interfacing ability, or do you rely on crew alone to manipulate things both in and outside of your hull?" -Lor (avatar)

“>… Huh?”

It took the Starcutter a moment to process that this was not, in fact, a same hat situation regarding names. She’d spoken to others like her before, both as in other Starcutters and the like as well as other Lors, but in those cases it was easier for her to determine such. Her nearsightedness makes it difficult to distinguish smaller details, especially on smaller figures; this could’ve been someone in a mostly light-blue outfit and she’d be none the wiser, were it not for the similarities in their magic she picked up on when checking. Rather than questioning where this alternate came from and how they ended up here, as would probably be the normal course of action to take, she’s happy to dive right into conversation!

“>Two of us! Wow, it’s been a few years since I’ve seen an alternate of myself. And not at all, the experience of meeting yourself but not you never gets old. Finding out what traits are shared and how we differ and all. It gives an interesting perspective of alternate timelines and universes that’s difficult to have otherwise!”

Between the excitement in her voice and the fact that she’d taken to flapping her oars a bit, it’s safe to say she isn’t even trying to cover up how she feels about all this. Well, except for being a bit jealous that this other Lor gets to have a convenient smaller form, she doesn’t want to give off that impression if she can help it.

“>As for that question, well… Not really. I have some rooms with claw mechanisms, but they were designed with research and observation in mind rather than interaction. Two to three digits, limited speed and range of movement, able to pick things up and rotate them but not much else. The med bay would be the exception, since it was equipped to allow for emergency medical treatments to be performed based on verbal instruction in the event of something going wrong during a solo-pilot mission. I’ve only been in such a situation once, thankfully, and I assume it doesn’t really count in terms of what you’re saying.”

That sure was a day. Still, she’s glad it happened; getting Magolor stable was the first major step to achieving the life she has now. Come to think of it, she should ask this other Lor about their Magolor later… Assuming the two are on good terms. She knows that isn’t always the case across worlds.

“>In other words, for the most part that is the case. I’ve figured out how to use my oars for some things besides just communication, as I can move them freely, but as you could probably imagine they’re still pretty limited. Not much use for picking things up or doing anything that requires dexterity or smaller limbs. However, I do have a considerable amount of control over my interior— I can shift around my layout and change certain properties of my paneling at will, for example— so I have freedom in that regard at least. Not much of a substitute for hugs and whatnot, though.”

Seems it’s not something she’s entirely happy about, even if she’s accepted it. It’d be really hard to be as old as she is and still in denial over something like that, after all. Really wanting hands won’t suddenly make them appear out of pity, unless you’re a wizard or know a wizard who can use the appropriate magic to manifest hands for you or something. Magolor isn’t one of them and hands on a boat would look weird and uncomfortable anyways.

“>Sorry if this is a weird question, but how do you work? Or, well, that form of yours, at least… Is it tangible, or more of a projection, or even some sort of an in-between? I admittedly can’t make out what you look like very well, so I might just be missing something obvious indicating the answer. Essentially, the cameras I use to actually see my surroundings in real time weren’t properly adjusted to the shape of my dome, so anything beyond my deck is out of focus. I’m operating under the assumption that you aren’t just a light blue blob?”

That last bit was half joke, half search for confirmation. You can never be too careful when it comes to making sure you’ve got things right, even if it sounds silly.

[windblooms]

childe scenario – foul legacy

childe x gender-neutral reader.  angst and nsfw/smut.  2.4k words.  canon divergence: reader is in place of the traveler plus other plot points. warnings: rough/unprotected sex, choking, biting, overstim. 

when you arrived in liyue harbor, childe didn’t have to ask for your name because he already knew it – the mondstadtian fatui had told him as much.  he only had to ask for your purpose in the city.  “to find somewhere to belong,” you had replied. 

as if either of you thought that you could make a home out of each other.

time had snapped by in an instant despite the weeks you two had spent together.  he couldn’t ever fully drop that harbinger pretense that you knew was a facade, and neither of you could walk the streets of liyue as sincere companions.  that time when you both stood atop mt. tianheng and looked out towards the guyun stone forest in the horizon was a sham; there was no sense of honesty, of trust.  atop that hill, on a bright autumn morning, you were trembling.  

he couldn’t bring himself to admit that it was because of him at the time.

but now, he can’t afford to be considerate of what you two had tried to become.  he doesn’t want to think about it.  it hurts even more when he looks into your eyes –

– and down at your neck, clutched in his fingers, and your hands that hopelessly rake at his wrist.

don’t give me that look, he wants to say, but his mouth doesn’t move.  you knew it would come to this.

your breaths are ragged under his grasp.  suspended in the air, you don’t have the energy to kick at him, exhausted from your earlier duel.  your sword had been shattered in the brutal exchange, and its remains lay discarded underneath the rubble of the golden house.

he can feel your pulse underneath his claws.  it’s erratic, pounding in time with your gasps.  your experiences in teyvat had taught you much and honed you into a warrior – an honorary knight.  but the pitiful state you’re in now betrays your fragility.

your nails do nothing against the skin of his foul legacy. you choke out his name, as if beseeching – “childe,” – begging for any sense of sympathy.  but you shouldn’t rely on his sentimentality: the monster you’re pleading to has always had the insatiable craving to bring his opponents to their knees, and you cannot be the exception. 

but, oh so badly, he wishes you were.

“you shouldn’t be thinking like that,” he chides, withered at your misplaced determination.  his voice isn’t quite his own; memories of better days are bitter on his tongue.  “you’re wasting what you have left.”

sentencing himself to further oblivion, he hurls you to the floor with the flick of his wrist, and your back arches as you hit the pavement.  he sees the breath leave your lungs, and as you convulse on the ground, his daggers have already materialized in his claws.

you do what you can to get away from his approaching form, practically crawling to put any semblance of distance between yourself and your doom.  but you’re weaponless, weak, and out of options; you can only last like this for so long.

your mouth opens, but he’s on you before you can get a sound out.  childe pins your body underneath his, settling himself on your torso with his thighs on either side of your hips.  a hydro dagger embeds itself on the tile besides your head, and as he leans over your spent body, all you see staring down at you is a pearl of ice.

“g–get off,” your plea is even weaker under the shadow of his figure.  he feels your hands shoving – no, pressing – against his shoulders, but they fall as soon as he sinks more of his weight onto your stomach.

“you can’t win,” childe’s voice should be triumphant; he has you, his adversary, his prize, in absolute submission.  but remorse bleeds from his words and into your ears.  “stop acting like you even had a chance.”

your head shakes back and forth.  the pressure of childe on top of you makes it difficult to think straight, your body screaming at the torture.  but you know that you can’t afford to lose here, or even think about giving up.  not when paimon, not when the knights, or keqing or ningguang or – 

“ – but zhongli.” your wheeze comes out like a sob, but there aren’t any tears in your eyes.  the harbinger above you regards your broken state in silence, his cape of stars distorting the walls of the golden house.  the chill of his armor burns as it digs into your exposed skin, but it’s grief that consumes you whole.

behind his mask, childe’s eyebrows furrow.  what does zhongli have anything to do with this?  he’s not even in the city right now, much less relevant to the life-and-death scenario you’re in.  is it really him that you’re weeping for, and not your own safety?  

childe moves his spare hand to the side of your face, testing.  your body shudders violently underneath his, anticipating what might come, with eyes wide and mouth in the middle of another gasp.  a claw taps at the rise of your cheek, and skims down your flesh until it hovers down to the plump of your lips. 

“it’s his name,” the harbinger exhales, voice now devoid of sentiment.  and all at once, you freeze.  “that you call to now?”

another beat of silence – bemusement is clear in your eyes.  he continues, and with each word, he lowers himself closer to your face.  you remember how to move, and as desperately as you can, put your hands on his mask in another attempt to delay the closing distance, all while trying to deny his twisted assertion.  

his mask vibrates as his voice flows.  you feel it thrum under the bruised skin of your palms.  “there are more important things to think about right now.  like the dead god you couldn’t protect.”  

childe doesn’t stop until his face is mere centimeters from yours.  between your fingers, you can see yourself in the clouded orb of his mask. 

“or, you know, yourself,” he finishes, aggrieved.  “you’ve never been the selfish type.  but i didn’t think that you’d be one to think of someone else in a situation like this.”

“no,” you start, still attempting vainly to push him back.  “no, listen to m– ”

“you held back before,” childe resumes his monologue, referencing your duel.  you never aimed for his neck, his chest, or a fatal blow – always at his arms or legs.  “worried about hurting me when nearly crushed you with a whale.”  

“you know why.” your cry falls on deaf ears.  for some reason the misery in your words doesn’t stir him.  “because i didn't want to.  just yesterday we ate together at wanmin, and the day before that, nantianmen – ”

“not as friends,” he interrupts, and you become quiet at the harshness in his voice.  “as a formality.  you knew it would come to this.  neither of us could afford to believe otherwise.” 

for the second time, your hands fall back to your sides.  you can’t speak.  you don’t want to.  not when you agree with what he’s saying.  but you know – you know he wants it to be different.  

does he?

you avert your eyes from his face.  his body no longer weighs on your own, but he still traps you underneath.  your next words are a mere whisper. 

“can you blame me for wanting to?”

childe doesn’t respond.  you hear his hydro dagger evaporate.  your hair moves as a clawed hand settles on the back of your head, cushioning it from the floor.  

“yes.”  he exhales, but the bottom half of his mask disintegrates and his lips descend onto yours. 

you feel like crying as his body grinds against you, thrusting your form further into the tile.  as he sucks on your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth, your hands find purchase in his hair, feebly grabbing onto strands as you try to keep up with his brutal pace.  lips, tongue, lips, tongue – you can’t keep track of how long you’re wedged underneath him like this, or how many times you’ve come close to moaning his name as he’s pulled on your hair, trying to provoke as much of a reaction out of you as he can.

if you’re fragile, then childe’s already broken.  his kisses tell you just as much: he tries to feel as much of you as he possibly can, pressing his mouth to your cheeks, the veins on your neck and the flesh above your heart.  but i can’t help indulging in you, his ministrations say in contradiction to his spiteful words from before. i can’t stop.

childe’s skin is rough against yours – hardened from his delusion – but he feels like the rush of a high tide at noon.  you clutch onto his shoulders, whimpering as the kisses just don’t stop, noises spilling from your mouth as he lifts you from the ground, hands on the backs of your thighs.  he carries you away from the wreckage, still biting into the convergence of your neck and shoulder, dragging the flesh under his teeth, and tugs until there are tears in your eyes.  you cry out again, with only pleas for him, and that’s when he realizes that there’s something beautiful about how ruined you look. 

he’s grateful that he has a mask: underneath it, he’s just as anguished as you are. 

“m-more.” you gasp next to his ear, practically clawing at his shoulders.  across the length of your collarbones, bite marks from his teeth are embellished onto your skin.  “archons, childe . . . ”

he doesn’t waste any more time, pushing your back against a column while supporting your body with his hands underneath your thighs.  he squeezes them harshly as he situates his crotch between your legs – and when he starts to rut into your body, nearly growling, he makes sure to cover your mouth with his own so he can feel you even further lose yourself to him.

“is this what you want?”  he jeers against your lips, yet for some reason, it’s as if he isn’t talking to you.  a gasp is wrung from your mouth as he thrusts up into the juncture of your legs; this feels like bliss.  “tell me this is what you want, and i’ll give it to you, y/n.  just tell me.”

another shove.  the heat between your legs is unbearable, and all too quickly, you’re complying, “y-yes, you, ple – ”

he tears off your undergarments and rams himself into you before you can finish.

the force of his entry is enough to jolt your spine into the column behind you, and once more, you’re winded by his brutality; there was no preparation, and for his first thrusts, it’s painful, yet the relief you feel with him inside you is undeniable.  you find yourself not only clinging onto his shoulders for leverage, but even tightening around his length as you adjust to his size and pace, eyes squeezed shut and teeth biting into your lower lip.

“fuck,” childe groans, and buries his face into the litter of hickeys he marked you with before.  he rocks you back and forth on his hips.  “you feel too good.  fuck, fuck, fuck.”

you think you’re bleeding where he clutches your thighs, but you can’t think clearly enough to be sure.  all you know is more, more, please, more, let me drown in you more.  

you both know this isn’t right, but neither of you can stop.  neither of you want to stop. 

your gasps fill the ambiance of the golden house.  childe makes sure to pull out of you completely, leaving you pitifully empty and clenched around nothing, before pounding back in. 

“you’re so filthy,” he finally speaks after what feels like an eternity.  the shock of his voice does nothing to quell the building climax in your stomach, and instead, spurs on your want even further.  “getting off to me just after being tossed around.  aren’t you just cute.”

his teeth sink into your neck once more, and you muffle a scream.  the flat of his tongue lathers his bites from before, coating them in saliva.  you don’t know what to do, what to say, and can only admit to his words in the drug of hedonism. 

your body lurches as he hastens his pace.  he doesn’t relent for a second, and your insides feel like absolute mush. “tell me to go harder and i will,” childe goads, the squelching of liquid between your legs becoming more prominent as he continues.  “moan louder.  cry harder.  tell me who’s breaking you right now.”

“you.”  it’s another one of your uneven breaths, another to be added to the plethora of defeated exhales.  “you, childe.  y-you’re . . . ”

you can’t bring yourself to finish.  the awareness of your vulnerably creeps into your conscious, and for a moment, your eyes roll down to where the two of you are connected. 

before they snap back up, just to see the orb on his mask stare you down. 

“tell me,” childe repeats, and you go absolutely still.  “who’s breaking you right now.”

and once more, he pulls out, length dripping in your juices, before hilting himself until there’s no more space between your bodies.

“you!”  this time, you do scream.  he’s too much, his size stretching you as he re-enters.  “ – you’re the one wh-who’s breaking me.”

in, out, in out.  “yes, good.  say it again.”

“you, childe.  you’re breaking me . . . “ 

and when your voice cracks, he feels like he’s shattered too.

you come before he does.  suddenly, abruptly, crumpling against his larger form as if you’ve been completely spent.  he still moves inside you, not at his point of release yet, and at the excessive stimulation your body jerks.  your eyes have glazed over, but the faint grip you have on his arms tells him that you’re still with him.  

he mutters your name, as if in reassurance, before slotting his lips over yours once more, tasting your tears as they fall from your eyes.

“good kitten,” his praise ghosts over your lips.  as he cums, childe presses himself as far into you as he can.  you sigh into his mouth as he does so, shoulders falling, and eyes closing.

he’s not sure whether to embrace you like a lover or cry like a monster. 

[ayamturd]

kid│technoblade

summary: (requested) an errand run forces techno out of the house; he meets an interesting kid in return

warnings: brief injury description, hinted abandonment, light angst and fluff

pairing: in-game platonic!technoblade

a/n: i took this request and ran so far with it lol. pls enjoy, i loved the reader’s dynamic with techno sm

wc: (4.0k) - m.list

It was hot, the day smothering in the summer heat as the village offered little coverage to the harsh sun. From exploring the lands of the Arctic to walking in the crowded space on the sweltering landscape, Technoblade let out a sigh from how his layered clothing stuck to him; his regal attire was more than slightly uncomfortable and was arguably only for looks then and there. 

Glancing down to the list in his hands once more, he grumbled from the tasks, supplies and ingredients he still needed, openly irritated from being forced on the supply run. Real funny Phil. Hilarious.

He scratched his head, lost to the busy market place as many shoved past him in the busy rush. Technoblade was a warrior, the Blood God, he was someone to be feared and feel threatened by, yet at that very moment he couldn’t be anything less than a lost tourist. 

Technoblade rarely ventured to extremely public places, but he knew he couldn’t return empty handed, the underwhelming mockery he would receive would be just plain annoying. 

With a final sigh of defeat, he decided it best to take each task step by step, that starting with the blacksmith. Now, make no question that Technoblade and Phil weren’t not capable of crafting their own weapon, but at times, the cost of another’s opinion did more help than that of personalized wants. 

It was even hotter once he entered the open store, the burning furnace emitting an almost intolerable intensity that rivaled the burning cold of the Arctic. Rolling his neck, he approached the front desk and unsheathed both Phil’s and his long swords, tossing a small pouch with a chink as payment for restorations and commendations.

Speaking few words in the villager’s tongue, the worker immediately began his assessment when taking the weapons in hand. Techno knew little in the different language, but he understood when the man explained the necessary works and time expectancy. 

He sighed for what felt to be his 15th time that afternoon, but complied when leaning against the counter for the next few minutes; he refused to leave his best weaponry in the hands of a stranger, and would do with the wait until then. 

Picking on the crusted mud that hardened on his fur coat, he jumped when someone slammed into the wood he leaned against, eyes dropping to meet the height of a young adolescent.

Unlike himself, they seemed dressed for the sweltering heat. Their cloak hung loosely from their shoulders, but was bare and thin, either from time or was purposeful from the climate, it was his guess. While they seemed as energetic as someone their age should be, he could tell from experience of the way they stood tall with their chin held high that they were a fighter, someone who seemed cautious of their surroundings by the constant shift in their eyes. 

He also knew they noticed him but was purposefully choosing to ignore him for whatever reason, he couldn’t tell. Coughing, he went back to his useless fiddling. 

They tapped anxiously, their fingers twitching while they looked longingly to the nearest axes, an overwhelming sense of excitement filling the stuffy air. While he tried to ignore them considering how little they could stand still irritated him, he couldn’t deny that they intrigued him. 

“Helloooooooo?” they called out, jumping above the counter and holding themself up with their arms stiff in strength. Techno waited a brief moment while they began yelling louder before rolling his eyes to interrupt them.

“They’re busy right now. Give it a minute, will you?”

His monotoned voice caused them to freeze, and as they slowly turned to meet the sight of him, a huge grin grew on their face. It made his frown grow in return. 

“A minute can be so long in silence, I’m only making it go faster.” Techno scoffed at their words and fully turned his body towards them. His genetics made him tower over them even when slouched, yet while he knew others would cower, the child in front of tilted their head in amusement. 

“By what logic does that make any sense?”

The mischievous teenager followed Technoblade’s posture, mimicking his stance with crossed arms. They jutted their chin out proudly, though it was obvious they were only messing with him further.

“My logic, obviously.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s yours, doesn’t make it right.”

With an annoying quirk of a smile, the small human smirked with feigned innocent eyes.

“Says who?”

Knowing full well that it would a battle in vain, Techno conceded and faced the front desk again, his arms resting against the table as he hung his head down with a huff of air. 

His considered defeat made the young stranger laugh lightly, and they copied his position, but instead held their head in their palms with a small hum. Staring at him intensely, their head rocked in thought for some time before they spoke up. 

“You look miserable.”

It took Techno a large amount of willpower to prevent himself from glaring in their direction, something the child took as a challenge. They filled the silence when Techno left it unattended, leaning closer to him while still in place. 

“I mean, the outfit is sick, I won’t lie. But you just look awful right now. How many layers do you have on anyway?”

Once more, he had to clench his fist tightly to drown out their bothersome questions. The child, as he now deemed it considering how persistent it could be, noted his subtle tensing and bit their lip to smother another coming giggle. 

“Is your crown real? Are you actually royalty? Am I expected to bow in honor or respect? I’m terrible with conversation-“

“So I’ve noticed.” Techno dryly stated, his hand coming to rub the back of his head, exasperated, with a shake. They completely disregard his side comment like he never spoke. 

“-but I never though I’d live to see the day I interact with royalty.”

“I’m not royal, I’m anythin’ but.” Techno’s voice dropped when considering the matter, his narrowed eyes in concentration against his constant fight for Anarchy and destruction. 

His seriousness created a beat of silence in the shop, though without fail, the teenager overlooked his internal monologue.

“Do you have a long, fancy name with numbers and stuff? Like ‘King George the First' or ‘Their majesty, Alas-’”

“No."

“But what about-”

Techno’s groan cut their next range of questions off, and he pushed himself up to stare them down tiredly. 

“You’re a pretty annoyin’ kid, you know that?”

Sitting up when he did, the teen jumped onto the counter backwards, swinging their legs on the edge while gripping the border tightly. They rested their chin on their shoulder with an eased smile as they now matched his height. 

“So I’ve been told.”

The approaching footsteps from the back entry caused the both of them to turn their heads, the young stranger facing to him while Techno’s gaze still remained. 

“But you can’t deny it, I made time go faster.”

Hopping off before they could be scolded, the blacksmith returned with the weapons’ adjustments and the requested engravings Phil asked for, drawing Techno’s attention away from the young stranger. He opened the cloth the worker brought the swords out in, and lifted his own while gripping the grained handle tightly.

Stepping away from the counter, he swung the blade in front of him, tossing it briefly as to adjust to its weight and consider its balance. The wind it generated in the slices of air brought a dark smile to his face. Satisfied with the result, Techno inspected the finer details up close a final time before sheathing it to his side. 

As he went to grab Phil’s, he caught the teen’s awed gape. He chuckled from their open amazement and moved to walk towards the displayed axes behind them. 

“What’s your name, kid?” With his back to them, he reached his hand outward to the various blade sizes, hovering over the edges with careful pressure. 

His question visibly threw them off, and they stuttered before gathering themself. 

“What’s yours?” they asked, eyebrows raised in defense. Techno felt the corner of his mouth lift from their faltering. 

“Technoblade.” He was patient as they swallowed before responding. 

“Y/n.”

Unclasping a light, yet deadly thin battle-blade axe from the wall, Techno eventually turned around to meet them again.  

“No last name?” 

While they smiled, it didn’t reach their eyes as they glanced away with a careless shrug. No origin or proper upbringing, he assumed.

“Never came up with one. Never needed one.”

“Hmm.”

Lifting the axe in hand, Techno gestured to the empty baldric that wrapped tightly around their chest. By their longing stares and stance as a fighter, it didn’t take much to make the connection that they were someone who fought with an axe. 

“What happened to the last one?”

Surprised by his close observation, they brought their hands to the bare hold as if they were searching for it. Unlike the past few minutes in his company, they suddenly became shy and spoke with a guilty smile. 

“O-oh. I, uh, chipped the blade. Wore it down. It’s been a while since I was able to treat myself, I thought it was finally worth the wait to get a new one.”

Shifting on their feet, they grasped one of their arms awkwardly. Despite their previously loud, outward energy, Techno sighed once he saw them as the kid they were; they were someone alone that was forced to survive in the big world, someone he could relate and understand. 

After a moment passed, Techno faced the worker. They had been watching their interaction the entire time and seemed as uncomfortable as they were bored. Without asking for a price, he wordlessly pulled out a handful of emeralds from his drop leg pouch and slammed them on the table surface. 

The blacksmith made sounds of gurgled delight, gathering the gems into his opens hands with furious nods in thanks. Techno only rolled his eyes and shoved the purchased axe forwards, leaving it open in his outreached hands to the child. 

“Save your money. It’s not worth any price they try to sell.”

Switching their sights from the weapon and Technoblade in disbelief, they breathlessly giggled when carefully lifting it from his hold. 

Twirling it easily before striking near the ground, the pulled the new beauty to their chest gratefully. They were at a loss for words, to say the least, and Techno laughed from their frozen shock.

His laughter died down and he decided to take his leave in quick steps. While the teen tried to shout to him in thanks, they were still dazed and couldn’t form words to yell. 

Techno paused at the entrance and dipped his head back, his hand bordering the door frame. He grinned slightly to the point where his sharper canines were visible, and called out to them in departure.

“See you around, kid.”

Bow raised, arrow drawn, Techno crept low on the forest ground with cautious and calculated steps. 

The overgrown leaves above provided a gentle shading that shielded the majority of the sunlight, only few splotches breaking through. It had been too long since Techno went hunting, the sport lost to him since his recent adventures and scenery in the very south. 

As he had been traveling for days on end to meet with his brothers’ call, he thought to gather food and see through with his lost skill; he had devoted a majority of his time in peaceful solitude to farming and raising cattle, he wasn’t as skillful as he used to be. 

Keeping that in mind, as his eyes narrowed from the close rustling of a bush before him and he approached meaningfully, he failed to noticed the grown roots that broke through the dirt. 

With a small yelp, his foot became stuck and he fell hard onto his face.

A small rabbit hopped out of the shrubbery and stopped briefly near him as if in mockery to his embarrassing failure before bouncing away. 

Technoblade groaned, both from pain and the circumstances, and gave up any hope for moving in shame when the voices began to mock him. 

“Well that wasn’t very royal of you.”

While his memory failed him more often than not, he recognized the voice specifically over the chaos that reigned in his ears. Contemplating the next-least humiliating course of actions, he settled on pretending nothing happened. 

“Like I said the last time,” he sighed while pushing himself up, “I’m not royalty.”

Brushing off the dirt that stained his clothes and skin, Techno turned to the child’s voice and jerked startled when their entertained countenance was closer than what he expected. They were hanging upside down with their legs hooked on a low, but sturdy branch. 

Face smug, they crossed their arms and openly snickered. 

“Agreed, you are far less graceful than what I expect them to be.”

Techno shook his head and searched for his bow, the old relic more traditional and practical in comparison to his crossbow for hunting. He hummed when spotting it and tried to shift the conversation. 

“What are you doin’ out here, kid?”

Pulling themself up in a sitting position, they swung their feet wildly and looked around the woodlands with a shrug. 

“I live here.”

Freezing mid crouch with his bow in hand, Techno’s words were slow following after. 

“Out here?”

“Mhmm.”

There was a pause as Techno looked at them confused. His brows furrowed fro their vague input. 

“In the trees?”

“Sometimes,” they sang. Leaping forward, they landed smoothly onto their feet and raised their eyes to the sky. “It depends on my mood, and whether or not I want to see the stars.”

“Ah.”

With that, Techno turned and started to walk away. His hunting attempt was a mistake that cost him a bullying teenager that apparently lived in the woods and was homeless, the voices adding onto his internal torment; he wanted to leave as fast as he could.

Racing their steps ahead of him, y/n began to walk backwards to address him directly. 

“Why are you here? I assume you don’t live near here since you dress like an old, aristocratic woman with modesty insecurities.”

Techno looked ahead without faltering considering their playful jab, and they tried for an answer again. 

“Plus you haven’t been around for weeks.”

Steps slowing, Techno was genuinely surprised to hear their observation and glanced at them with an inclined head tilt. 

“You looked for me?”

Caught in their own web, y/n timorously avoided his stare. 

“The town’s always busy with newcomers, travelers, royalty,” they emphasized with a pointed look at him, “trust me when I say you stick out like a sore thumb. Your turn.”

Nodding from their reasonable, but untrue explanation, it was Techno’s turn to glance away while formulating a response. 

“I’ve been… uh, explorin’, you could say.”

In a paralleling manner, they copied his previous nod despite their skepticism. 

“I see. And now?”

“Now I’m visitin’ an old friend, old relations.”

“Ahhh. Girlfriend?”

Technoblade stopped walking altogether and incredulity gawked at them. 

“What?”

“Boyfriend?” y/n continued, now turning with their back facing him. Techno rushed to meet there stride and spoke down to them.

“No, stop it.”

Hand to their chin, they pretended to reach another revelation with wide eyes. 

“Ohh I get it now, distant family.”

“You can be quiet now,” Techno grumbled. Smacking his forehead, he rubbed it exasperated while their joy became evident in their cheerful tone.  

“Are they misunderstanding?” the teen asked, their cheeks flushed excitedly from his apparent discomfort. “Is it the person-friend they don’t approve of?”

“I’m leaving now.” Techno hurried his pace as to leave the forest ground.

“They rude? Unbearable? Selfish? Annoying?”

“You know what,” he stated, spinning to them to clarify since they had stopped walking entirely behind him, “yes.”

“Ooo which one?”

“Annoyin’, and you remind me so much of them.”

The trees were now clear as the plains had become more visible during their trek. Strapping the long, recurve barbow over his head and around his chest, Techno thought the exchange done and allowed the sun to bask over him. 

Before he could make his way to his camp, their voice yelled out to him. 

“Aww that’s sweet!”

Perplexed to how anything of what he said could be seen as ‘sweet’, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned again. 

“You consider me like family? I’m touched!”

Eyes narrowed, Techno bowed his head it defeat once again. He could never win with them, could he?

“‘kay, I’m done with this. Goodbye.”

Y/n waved avidly with a wide grin in spite of him not looking. 

“See you around, Sir Blade!”

“You should consider yourself lucky.”

The stillness was deafening. Regardless of the wind that howled outside and forced the shudders to rattle upon constant impact, or the fire the lit the room bright in heat and warm tone color, the quiet was tense when y/n awoke in Techno’s house. 

“I saw the smoke burn miles out. Had the wind changed its course, I would have never noticed.”

As his back was turned to them, Techno pulled the cork from his most recent regeneration brew and poured it briskly into a small mug, its small rippling sound overtaking the room. With a plate of bread he prepared beforehand, he finally addressed them with the sustenance in hand. 

Y/n was completely engulfed in the large bedding they rested in, Techno’s bedding. Their arms were wrapped tightly with gauze that covered their forearms all the way to their chest. Eyes sunken and dark, they squinted heavily from recently awakening with ashen hair that matted to their face. 

“Is everyone alright?” they asked, voice faint yet rough from the intense smoke inhalation and damage they sustained in the event. Coughing from speaking for the first time, Techno was quick to hand them the potion. 

They downed the drink voraciously, and he decided to speak while they ate. 

“Everyone that managed to escape, probably. But those that did fled long before I arrived.”

Glancing at down at them, Techno could only sigh at the sight. They were so small under his gaze, and he shifted his attention to the nearest wall with crossed arms. 

“It’s one thing to help others, it’s another when takin’ on a raid by yourself.”

His pointed comment caused them to snap and try to defend themself, however, they moved to suddenly and winced from the slight movement. Despite his frown, Techno’s hands were raised gently with concerned eyes from their evident pain. 

Breathing in and out harshly, they were still hunched over when they glared up at him in anguish. 

“You didn’t hear them scream, you didn’t hear them yell for mercy. You weren’t there, but I was. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” Their voice cracked near the end, and with vast tears that escaped, a broken sob filled the space as they hid their face ashamed. 

Techno was at a loss when comforting others, but he wasn’t a jerk to ignore someone after surviving a tragic incident, one they tried to fight yet lost to. 

Slowly, he moved to sit on the bed side. He clenched his fist shut in hesitance, but steadily, he hovered his hand over them before stroking their back reassuringly. 

“Listen, kid,” pausing, Techno caught himself and cleared his throat, “Y/n, I know you barely know anything about me but trust me. I understand how it feels, how it must’ve felt then to be overwhelmed by sudden cries that surround you to the point that you make rash decisions. Trust me when I say I get it.”

Their cries died down from his words, and he spoke earnestly as they listened more closely in smothered hiccups. 

“I respect what you tried to do in the end, but you have to be self aware that you’re still just a kid.”

His blunt statement made them freeze, and when the fully processed what he said, they dropped their hands to scowl at him incredulously. Their red eyes are hard and made him laugh from his lack of explanation to his true meaning. 

“Hey, I never said it was the age that was at fault.”

Pulling his arms away, he grasped his hands together and rested his elbows to his knees, though his focus was still on them. 

“You’re young, and young means inexperienced. Give yourself some leeway and accept your limits that come with time.”

They looked down from his attentive eyes, but still nodded when understanding his perspective. 

Rubbing the bottom of his chin with the back of his hand, Techno attempted to further the conversation amiably. He was out of his depth socially, but he was trying for their sake. 

“Besides all that, I have to say you can definitely fight.” Their eyes shot up to meet his, the acclaim unexpected. Their face was too emotionally soft for Techno to look at, so he turned away before speaking with a joking smirk. 

“Though I’m not too sure about your close combat.”

Gawking at the audacity, y/n lightly smacked his arm and scoffed. A smile crept on their face as they shook their head from the backhanded compliment. 

“You try training with a tree, they don’t always fight back.”

His snicker grew from their weak justification, and eventually, they joined his laughing fit. Helpless giggles replaced the once solemn air. While it soon died down, the elation of each other’s company still remained. 

Techno rose from the soft mattress and crossed his arms loosely in thought. With a single nod, his monotoned voice encouraged them considerately.

“Get some rest, we can talk later.”

Like his past departures, his steps were fast and large as he moved to exit. His hand pulled the door with him, but a shy call of his name stopped him from closing it fully shut.

“Technoblade.”

His head peaked from behind the wooden door and was met with soft eyes that expressed more gratitude than words could convey. 

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, kid.”

Bonus:

Shutting the door gently, Techno walked into the kitchen space with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes from the hours he spent watching them unconscious after tending to them, and heeded the voices’ command for food (real food for once, not blood).

He leisurely approached the pantry, and without turning to address him, spoke lowly.

“Not a single, word.”

Phil lowered the book in his hand and raised a hand defensively with a shrug. He was sat in the living room, obscured in the large armchair from the kitchen; Techno was aware of his presence, however, and knew of his routine.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Phil called out, though Techno was quick to respond. 

“Phil, you are the least stealthy person on this planet.”

“No, no, I’m serious. I have nothing to say.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Techno murmured a sure and moved to the front door, an apple in one hand and bag full of produce tucked in his other arm. He stated that he was going check on the animals and slammed the door close harshly.

Moments passed as Phil sat in silence, save for the crackling fire that roared beside him, before speaking as if he could still hear him. 

“To think, I sent you to the store and you brought back a kid.”

[bokettochild]

A Hero Protects His Own - Part 1

Ao3

AU is by @ryssbelle I just write for it!!!! Go check them and their awesome AU out!!!!

..........................................................................................................................

Loud.

It’s loud and the camp is overwhelmingly tense as Legend screams harsh words in a language Twilight doesn’t understand. The others sit in silence, either burying their heads in their hands or trying their hardest to ignore it while Sky stares cold and impassive at the vet.

He shrinks back into his hood.

He’s fought the worst of the worst; monsters, evils, shadows and nightmares from realms beyond what the others will ever know, but somehow hearing his brothers screaming at each other like this is what it takes to make him shiver and shrink back.

Or maybe it’s the steel in Sky’s eyes.

He’s tried to separate them, tried to stop Legend antagonizing the Chosen Hero, and for a while he even thought it worked! Sky and Legend had bonded some after what the three of them refer to as “the bunny incident” Legend with a fierce blush and Sky and himself with grins and teasing. The vet would tease them, stand at their side and back them up, and they would do the same for him. That’s just the power of secrets, sharing them makes you closer to other people.

But then they’d been dropped in Legend’s world. They’d come to the veteran’s Hyrule and spent a day at his house and gone out to the forest with Ravio to investigate something strange that the merchant had seen. When they'd come to the cozy cottage, Sky had been teasing Legend and receiving playful jabs in return, but the next morning when everyone woke up there was stone cold silence between the two, Ravio overcome with nervous energy that, to their collective shock, had earned him some rather sharp words from the Skyloftian when the merchant had gotten them lost in the woods.

From there it got worse.

Legend and Sky are almost always at each other's throats now, icy blue and raging indigo burning into each other as Time has struggled to keep them separate, neither willing to explain their spat and Ravio to overcome to even attempt it.

The bunny merchant clings to Warriors even now, their scarves wrapped over the both of them and tying them together as Warriors paints the merchant’s nails, speaking softly and recounting adventures the two had apparently shared in an attempt to distract him from the shouting that fills the camp and the heated stares being shot between two heroes.

Sky’s hand grips the hilt of the Master Sword where it lies in his lap and Legend’s fist at his sides while he stands over the older hero, face twisted up in an ugly expression as he spews words Twilight knows he doesn’t want to understand.

“Make it stop.” Four whimpers, head buried in his side as the smithy’s shoulders tense further with each word. “It hurts.”

“Guys-” He tries, he really does, to be firm, but when there's so much anger already in the air, he knows that yelling will only do so much good, and when Sky’s sharp eyes meet his, usually so gentle and dreamy but now flashing with lightning and shadowed in thunderclouds, it’s all he can do to keep his voice low enough to not worsen things for Four.

“You’re hurting Four.” Time scolds.

Legend’s mouth snaps shut, Sky’s hands twitching as the two both look over the miserable bundle against his side.

“Fine.” Legend snaps, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Apologies.” Sky nods.

It’s easy to believe Sky will be a king one day when he acts like that. There’s no doubt that their usually sleepy friend can rule and command when he sits poker straight, actions clipped as his words and tone deep enough to rival times when he speaks. Gone are the gentle words and reassuring smiles, instead replaced with regal nods and flashing silver eyes. The war cape that usually warms shivering heroes on cold nights is a cape, and the halo cast over the Skyloftian’s honey-hair is a crown in the firelight.

Twilight has to shift in his place.

Thank Ordonia the two both have a soft spot for the smithy, otherwise they’d be here all night! And, while he loves the wolf that nestles inside of his heart, he also hates how the wolf’s senses affect his own. Legend’s shrieks might be annoying to the others, but to himself and Four, they’re agonizing.

Then again, he has to muffle a strained chuckle as Legend stomps past on his way to his bedroll, which is as far as possible from Sky’s without Time raising his brows, rabbits do scream rather loudly, don’t they.

“Are they done?” Four’s eyes actually have tears in them when he looks up, face flushed and miserable as he peeks up out from under the tail end of the wolf pelt.

“Yeah.” He has to keep his voice low as he answers, Four’s headaches are well known to be absolutely awful, and he can’t help but gently pet the smithy’s hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Baby.

Twilight has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Four’s nearly an adult.

Baby. The wolf in his soul rumbles, and Twilight has to mentally restrain himself from pulling the little smithy into his arms and absolutely suffocating him with his fluffy pelt and arms as he holds him as tight as possible. He thinks Four once explained why they want to squeeze babies and small things so much, but he can’t be bothered to dig through all of the smithy’s rants about Hylian behavior in order to remember it.

It was something related to eating though, and the thought makes him wrinkle his nose.

“Good.” Four sighs, flopping fully against him and tugging the pelt over his eyes. “They do that again and I’m gonna slap them both. Jerks.”

A laugh rumbles through his chest as the wolf growls in approval.

Fierce baby. The Wolf laughs.

He’s close to our age. Twilight reminds himself. He jist looks small and young.

Never mind that the smithy has his childish moments, eyes glimmering red and warm as he laughs along with Wind as the two watch some prank or another play out. It’s always hard to tell if Four is just laughing at their misfortune or if he’s the reason for it and is reveling in his genius, because when questioned the smithy always looks so childishly innocent or entirely unimpressed. It’s a difficult thing to pin the blame on the smithy, and they’ve all quite given up. Except Sky.

Sky, who can read Four like a book and is currently shooting worried glances in the smithy’s direction, all fire and rage gone from crystal eyes when the Skyloftian catches sight of the smithy curled up beside him, only his legs and stockinged feet visible beneath the pelt. “Is he okay?”

Twilight nods. “Exhausted, fightin’ a bad headache, but he says it ain’t quite a migraine.”

The other hero nods with a wince. “You got him then?”

Oh definitely. This is his little brother! Of course, he can take care of him! “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He’s feeling guilty.

They are close, he prob’bly just wants to help.

“You good, Sky?”

Crystal blue meets his slowly, a pained smile on his brother’s face as Sky settles down on his other side, reaching over quickly to gently pat Four’s knee before answering. “Yeah. Legend just-” Sky answers, running a hand through his hair with a huff of his puffed-out cheeks. “Vet’s a Hylia Blessed piece of work somedays!”

Laughter spills from him this time, and he can’t stop it even when Four pokes his side irritably. “That has got to be the nicest way I’ve e’er heard someone call another person an ass! Did you just say ‘Hylia blessed’?”

Sky rolls his eyes. “I love Legend same as any of you guys, he’s just...” Another heavy puff of breath, one that he didn’t know Sky could even manage with his asthma, billows out, ruffling the Skyloftian’s bangs as he motions to where Legend is sat with his back against Warriors, Twilight would almost dare to say that the vet is pouting as War reaches over to gently ruffle the vet’s hair fondly while Ravio chirps something nervous and encouraging at him.

“He can a bit difficult.” He finishes, but Sky shakes his head fiercely.

“That’s not it! I deal with difficult people all the time! My best friend was the biggest ass I knew before he stopped trying to one up me and started to actually help. I can handle a bit of sass and snark, I mean, look at us!” Sky exclaims, motioning to the camp and everyone in it.

“Keep it down!” Four hisses. “Headache!”

“Sorry.” He choruses with Sky as the smithy glares up at the both of them before retreating back underneath the protective shade of his wolf pelt.

“It’s not the grouchiness, or the snark.” Sky explains softly, blue eyes pained as they glance at Legend. “We’re just. We have very different opinions about some things.” He’s about to say something when Sky cuts him off, eyes glistening softly in the fire as he stares across at the pouting vet. “I get that he doesn’t care for the goddesses. I’m not happy with it, but I can respect his opinions; they’re valid as much as mine are, and he has his reasons to feel the way he does. But some things-” The Skyloftian shakes his head fiercely, eyes going stony again. “Some things aren’t open for discussion like faith and beliefs. Hard, cold facts can’t be denied, no matter how much Legend would like to.”

There’s a bite in Sky’s voice again, and it makes him flinch back. Beneath his pelt, Four’s fingers clench his tunic, the smithy stiff as a board again. He sneaks an arm around the younger hero, squeezing gently in reassurance as he follows Sky’s gaze to the trio opposite them, where Legend is glaring at a laughing Warriors while Ravio giggles softly along, the three melting back into their seamlessly antagonistically friendly behavior around each other.

“Legend’s smart. But he’s also blind.” Sky bites out bitterly. “And it’s just gonna get him hurt.”

He’s about to ask what Sky means, but at that very moment Wild jumps up from sitting beside Time, ears pricked and eyes wide as a hoarse-shout rings from his cub’s throat. “Monster attack!”

Monsters.

The growl rumbles in his chest as he pulls himself to his feet, Four following with a groan and Sky already sprinting across the camp with the Master Sword drawn and in hand.

The monsters are on them before most of them even have a chance to draw their blades.

Mindless beasts swirl about, blocking his vision of the others as he dances through them, fending off any headed towards the suffering smithy while simultaneously trying to carve a path for himself and Four to where the others are.

“Eyes out for the black one!” Warriors voice rises over the din of blades crashing and monsters squealing, all of the playfulness of the moment before replaced with the practiced calm and clipped tones of a soldier.

“Aye Captain!” Wind shouts back, followed by Wild and Time, the only one’s accustomed to a soldier’s commands, as they thrust themselves into the battle.

The monsters swarm thicker and thicker, but in every spare second, he keeps his eyes open, searching the crowd for the black lizalfoes that’s been the source of so much of their trouble lately. Nothing can be seen save monster after monster of the normal sort, their blood streaking red across the dirt, thin and weak as bodies fall with more ease than any of their previous battles.

“These ‘blins are red blooded!” He calls out. “Keep your guards up! They strong one’s are prob’bly holdin’ back!”

The Ordon Sword sings through the air, but despite his own warning, the monsters are already starting the thin. More stream in from the forest, but they runabout wild like any old ‘blins and lizards, none of the intelligence or strength of their corrupted cousins making an appearance so often recently. The same can be said of the black lizalfoes; no one can spot it, there’s no flash of black in the crowd save for his own pelt as he spins and stabs, dancing easily along to Warriors’ side.

“Any sign?” The captain pants out, parrying an enemy blade and thrusting forwards to skewer the moblin before him.

“None.” He heaves back, raising his shield against his own opponent and pushing back against the spear that embedded it inside. “Have you seen Four? I lost him in the mob?”

The words are hardly out of his mouth before a scream, all too harsh and broken sounded across the field. “Sky!”

Midnight meets royal blue as soldier and rancher lock eyes for all of a moment before swinging out with all their might at their enemies, razing them low and clearing their vision long enough to stare over the field.

Four is clutching at his sword arm, eyes wide and staring as they looked to where Sky has been cast onto the ground a few paces away, thrown by the force of a blow that no doubt had been headed for the smithy himself. No ordinary monster could land a blow on Sky unless he was rushing to someone else’s rescue, and the guilt already filtering into the smithy’s eyes was all that is needed to confirm the thought.

The Master Sword lies on the forest floor, to far from Sky for the knight to grasp it as he pulls himself to his knees, enemies already baring down on him from all directions.

“Sky!” Twin voices shout.

Flying-Heart!!!! The Wolf screams inside of him, pushing his feet forwards to charge to Sky’s side.

Red flashes before him, swirling fabric, the color of aged blood and wine, a hood like a poe’s drawn up over a being’s head, a single blackened hand reaching out from beneath, red swirling over clawed fingers as Sky’s breath comes heaving from his lungs, side bleeding from the blow that had downed him.

A voice, neither high nor low but pitched in such a way that none could hear quite what was being said, murmurs something as the power on the blackened hand pulses.

Monsters rage around the hero and poe-like being, but none step closer to Sky, although their eyes trail to him eagerly every so often when Heroes, desperate to save their brother, aren’t hacking through their numbers.

A moblin rises before Twilight, blocking his vision for precious seconds before a roar built in his chest and his sword cleft the being in two. The second was enough though. Sky’s scream sounds over the field, harsh and grating and agonizing! The wolf throbs inside of him, tearing at the walls of his mind as he attempted to press through the creatures keeping him from his brother.

“Get back you-” Legend’s words are cut off sharply by Time’s scream of rage as the biggoron sword swings and fells three monsters at once. The Master Sword gleams in Legend’s hands as he launches himself at the being, teeth set and eyes flashing as he swings down, making the red-cape dart back as the pink-haired hero came to a halt between hero and monster, Sky’s weakening breath ringing over the field.

The vet’s eyes flash to meet his for only a moment. “Kick ass! We need to end this!”

A firm nod, the wolf is already raging inside him and he gave it full control as his blade and shield fend off and fell enemy after enemy, their screams and blood running over him like the air itself, so little he cares for them. His only job now is to beat back the monsters, give Legend space to work, keep Sky safe.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Beat the monsters.

Give Legend space to wreak havoc.

Protect Sky.

Like a dirge of war, the wolf’s thoughts swirl with his own, red clouding his vision as the Ordon Sword severs limbs and head and cleft bodies in two. Feet dance the war stomps of bloodlust as eyes flash with the golden of the wolf.

“Portal!” Wild screams over the din of the monsters falling. “Hylia’s!” His pup sounds strained, rage and terror mixing in a cocktail of fury as arrows plunge into the enemy and weapons fly loose across the Champion’s personal battle space, an area where even the monsters drew back in fear while the rest of the heroes give the youngster ample space to cause chaos.

Sure enough, the portal’s golden power is sweeping across the field, the faint brush of feathers over their cheeks and shoulders and the whisper of warmth and honey as the goddess’s strength flows over the field.

“Legend, watch out!” Hyrule’s cry cuts through, and Twilight only has enough time to see the blackened hand swing forwards and catch hold of Legend’s tunic before the golden glow of the shift swept it all away.

[luimagines]

Warriors gets stressed out during a fight and snaps at Reader, Wind, Hyrule, or Wild to stop with their nonsense because it’s “crunch time.” Afterwards Reader decides that his name is Capitan Crunch.

- Glitter ✨

Brilliant. I'll get right on that. 

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Warrior growled as he sliced through the moblin in front of him. They just kept coming! Where were they coming from? Didn’t he and the Traveler finish off the last of them a while ago?

The black blood oozes off of his sword and he bites down a curse. He can’t lose his head now. He has to keep his cool. He has to stay focused. He has to be leveled.

He hears laughter somewhere behind him and an explosion.

The blast knocks him off of his feet, but away from the moblin as it arcs downward. It misses him completely, but Warrior now has dirt in his mouth and up his nose.

He gets up and spits it out, readying his stance once more.

The culprits fly in not long after it. Wild and you have positioned yourselves on top of a log and have launched yourself at the moblin, crushing its head on impact. You flip and take it out at the knees.

It doesn’t take long for it to explode into the infamous purple smoke.

Wild cheers and sprints in your direction to high five you. “Did you see that?! That was the best one yet! This is what, number six?”

“I think we can take them all out like this” You agree. “We need to see where the next one is.”

Warrior’s jaw drops. His face goes red. “Are you serious?!”

You both snap to him with a deer in headlights look. It seems as if you hadn’t noticed him at all.

Warrior rages out. “Lives are at stake here! And you’re both goofing off by ignoring the people, your teammates, around you! Get in the fight and our of the clouds! It’s crunch time!”

Wild stands at attention with the use of his commander voice. He does the typical knight salute and nods. “Yes, Captain.”

You take a second longer to process the information. You know that he’s mad, but clearly something has caught your attention. Warrior can see that you’re biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning.

Warrior growls and focuses on you instead. “What? What’s so funny?”

You clear your throat and look at Wild, quickly copying his position. “Nothing, Captain Crunch. Getting back to the fight now.”

Wild snaps his head to you in shock. You grab his arm and run away before either hero can get a word in.

Warrior pauses as well. the way you said it so naturally caught him off guard that he doesn’t realize any absurdity in that sentence until he repeats it in his head.

He looks back to you and where you’ve run off but he won’t do anything about it right now. Warrior shakes himself and decides to put his frustrations to use. He locks onto a group of moblins closing in on Wind and he charges forward.

The battle is an old song of dance that Warrior can do with his eyes closed. When the coast is clear and the area has been successfully cleaned of the lurking malice, he goes to check over his troops.

They are tired, a bit bruised but otherwise ok. Warrior sighs in relief and finally lets himself relax.

Legend sits next to him and raises an eyebrow. Warrior doesn’t have the energy to match his sass. “You feeling alright, Captain?”

“I think I pulled something.” He mumbles, closing his eyes. 

“Yikes.” He hears Legend say. “Someone get Captain Crunch an ice pack and a beer.”

Warrior’s eyes snap open and he looks to Legend who has the widest grin on his face. Warrior glares and instead locks on to where you and Wild are standing. You both notice in an instant that Warrior has you in his sights, freezing in place once more. No one makes a move.

Time snorts, clapping Warrior’s shoulder with a small laugh. He hands Warrior that beer Legend ordered. “Leave it. Or you’ll make it worse.”

Warrior hangs his head but takes the drink. He’s going to need it.

[alyjojo]

February 🐉 2023 Monthly - Capricorn

Whole of your energy: King of Pentacles

Work, career & money all of that looks really good for you overall. There’s a situation with a particular person, either in your family or a close relationship. If anything is hurting you, it seems to be some toxic way of communicating, or not, and that’s toxic. Carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and saying nothing? Sounds like Capricorn 💯 Or that’s who you’re dealing with.

What’s going on in February:

2 Swords:

You’re indecisive about speaking up, or staying silent. Being Cap, you’re probably much more reserved in communication normally, and when it comes to translating your emotions or current reality/struggles into words, it’s not something that comes easily to you. Especially if you have Cap Mercury. This may not even be recent, you could have gone through difficult times that required a lot of Strength from you, and just suffered silently, kept it all to yourself and handled it like the silent warrior you often are.

King of Wands rev:

This seems to be someone in your family, if a person at all. Someone bossy, domineering, authoritative and demanding, selfish, full of ego & all about themselves and what they want. 10 Cups clarifies, either this is someone you’re staying silent with because they’re this way, or they may be reacting this way once you open up, which is really what this whole month is all about. It could also be you being this way towards a family member because of something that’s being told to you, new information coming out. This could also be a particular person at work that you feel is in your way from you having the life of your dreams, they could be an arrogant s.o.b.

The Moon rev:

Complete clarity where you were confused, 7 Swords rev shows up later on to show the same message. You’ve not been open and honest about what you’ve gone through, how you feel, where you feel stuck and trapped, things that have your hands tied financially, etc. Clarifiers are all finance cards, you’ve been working hard to probably pay off some debts and invest in yourself a bit, for some time with 5 Pentacles rev. And have been successful at it, for the 5 to be reversed. If you’ve not been open with a family member, they’re probably disappointed they had no idea, or you didn’t even give them the chance to help. Because you never spoke up in the first place. Same for anything going on at work, you could be next in line to receive some very positive attention, a position, whatever, but you’re so closed off and silent, people that aren’t like that may question your motives, like what is it Capricorn wants? They’re a great worker, but they’re miserable? Opening up is necessary, people can’t read minds, they can only guess, and y’all tend to favor pessimistic behaviors and attitudes even when you are happy.

8 Pentacles:

Opening up and being completely honest & transparent about where you’ve been, where you are, and what you want is going to get you exactly what you want, success follows. You’ve put in the time and work and deserve all of the success from that, but it’s like you don’t think you do? Or you don’t speak up to be counted. That’s all you have to do according to this.

10 Pentacles:

Commitment, stability, the peak of career or any relationships all follows complete transparency and opening up. If you’ve given something everything you’ve got, say so! The Devil in your reading feels self inflicted, probably due to confidence issues, and a major lack of communication & clarity, and idk why. You’ve got great energy and everything is going well for you. 10 Pentacles & Cups, The King that’s best suited to run those 10 Pentacles. Why have you held back? 💚

Signs you may be dealing with:

Taurus, Leo, Virgo, Pisces & Cancer

Oracles: ✨

13 Abundance 💰

Abundance takes on many forms: material possessions, friendships, excellent health, emotional stability, unique experiences…

When you lock yourself into a narrow view on what defines abundance, you lose out on the whole picture of what it *could* mean. Open yourself up to as many forms of wealth and abundance that are possible and watch your blessings multiply. Always remember that focusing on what you do not have is a sure-fire way to feed the energy and make that your truth. Every day watch for signs of abundance from the universe - acknowledge and be thankful, thus encouraging the continued flow of energy. Remember the universe will always provide you with what you need.

We enter into February as:

Pistachio 🎩

“I’ve got all I could ever need, right here.”

Excuses. Excuses. Excuses. They can begin to snowball. Pistachio wants you to live the life that he can’t seem to participate in. He is saying “Stop waiting for the right time to live your life!” This isn’t the dress rehearsal, it’s the real thing. You could be on the verge of something big, and if you don’t participate, you’re going to watch it pass you by. Don’t let anything prevent you from taking a chance. It is important to do what you love to do, but are you letting new experiences in? Or are you in a comfort zone that’s leading nowhere? Doing the same thing and expecting something different is not likely. The time is now to take a risk, talk to people, show up for life! Live now! Don’t wait another day.

What is to be learned in February: you’ve pulled two

Gold Coins 💰

“I only seek to give you what you ask for.”

Gold Coins gently asks you to look at your relationship with money. Money doesn’t care where it goes. It naturally goes toward appreciation and gratitude. What we do with our own abundance makes the difference. Are you blaming something on money? Are you running from it? Be wary of using your financial situation as an excuse to avoid doing something you love to do. Are you questioning a relationship or career that is hitting a rocky time? It may be time to look for the good in it. Remember there are two sides to every coin. What you desire may currently be manifesting. Great riches are waiting for you to use them. You can ask the universe for riches or poverty, the universe doesn’t care, only you can change your inner experience. “Things” only hold value when we think they do. If there were no money, it didn’t exist, what else would you do? What else would you focus on?

Sage 🧙🏼‍♂️

“Wisdom...is knowing the difference between risk, and stupidity.”

It is time to listen to what others are telling you. Is there some wise counsel that you have sought, only to ignore it? Are you trying to do things all by yourself? A solution to your problems may come from those more experienced than yourself. Trust that whomever you think to ask will be the right person. Sage can also indicate a time of surrendering what you have no control over. Wisdom only comes from experience, and we all have challenges because we need the lessons they provide. Remember to stay in today, no jumping ahead. This is an opportunity to start over and clean out the old, it’s the perfect time to do it. Rejoice! You are walking a path of Great Spirits 🍃

Green & Gold may be lucky colors 💚💛

[myopinionhi]

A Will Solace Character Analysis: the Underappreciated Soft Side

I've noticed many fanfictions have Will Solace OOC. So I’ve been thinking about aspects of Will’s personality fans seem to either gloss over or exaggerate. Here, this post is me doing an in-depth analysis explaining Will Solace’s canon personality in the books, and how it can sometimes differ from fanfictions. Sprinkled in this analysis are tips to fanfiction writers on how they write Will as more in-character.

There is one major aspect of Will that people seem to ignore or underemphasize. Nico best explains it when describing Will in this quote

Jason was a fighter. You could tell from the intensity of his stare, his constant alertness, the coiled-up energy in his frame. Will Solace was more like a lanky cat stretched out in sunshine. His movements were relaxed and nonthreatening, his gaze soft and far away. In his faded SURF BARBADOS T-shirt, his cutoff shorts and flip-flops, he looked about as aggressive as a demigod could get, but Nico knew he was brave under fire. During the Battle of Manhattan, Nico had seen him in action - the camp's best combat medic, risking his life to save wounded campers.

To sum it up, Will Solace is a very chill and calm character. A lot of writers make Will more irrational, impulsive, overbearing, and emotional than he actually is. Will is not the type of character to create drama unless he's, as Nico puts it, "under fire." In other words, the intense side of his personality doesn't come out unless the situation is urgent or dire.

Fans remember during the Second Giant War how he gets angry and argues with Nico over Nico's health and shadow-traveling, so many assume Will is going to be this fiery over a lot of other things regarding their relationship. For example, fanfic writers may make Will controlling or overly sensitive with Nico. However, keep in mind, Will gets heated with Nico during the Second Giant War because Nico's shadow-traveling is killing him. This is how Will describes Nico's dire state.

"Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel. You can’t try that again."

"I just did try it again, Solace. I’m fine."

"No, you’re not. I’m a healer. I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it. Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight. But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back. You are not shadow-travelling. Doctor’s orders."

Will is a healer. When he touches Nico's hand, he can sense how little sleep and food Nico has been getting and how Nico's being taken over by darkness. Nico is on the verge of death and hasn't cared about his health for a long time. Nico is also stubborn about it, so Will has to be aggressive in order to save Nico's life. This aggressive behavior is not the norm for Will, but it can sometimes come out when he has to assert control in a life-or-death situation.

Will is a calming prescence. He's a diplomat. He stops violence on multiple occassions.

He's one of the few people who's able to calm Clarisse's violent rage, and he does so in a gentle manner.

Clarisse pointed her dagger at Rachel. "What about their allies, huh? Did you see that tribe of two-headed men that arrived yesterday? Or the glowing red dog-headed guys with the big poleaxes? They look pretty barbaric to me. It would’ve been nice if you’d foreseen any of that, if your Oracle power didn’t break down when we needed it most!"

Rachel’s face turned as red as her hair. "That’s hardly my fault. Something is wrong with Apollo’s gifts of prophecy. If I knew how to fix it –"

"She’s right." Will Solace, head counsellor for the Apollo cabin, put his hand gently on Clarisse’s wrist. Not many campers could’ve done that without getting stabbed, but Will had a way of defusing people’s anger. He got her to lower her dagger. "Everyone in our cabin has been affected. It’s not just Rachel."

One of the most underrated Will Solace moments is when he stops a bloody battle from happening between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter.  

But he knew it wouldn’t do any good. After weeks of waiting, agonizing and steaming, the Greeks and Romans wanted blood. Trying to stop the battle now would be like trying to push back a flood after the dam broke.

Will Solace saved the day.

He put his fingers in his mouth and did a taxicab whistle even more horrible than the last. Several Greeks dropped their swords. A ripple went through the Roman line like the entire First Cohort was shuddering.

"DON’T BE STUPID!" Will yelled. "LOOK!"

People are so used to seeing demigods, especially male demigods, being aggressive fighters that they can't wrap their heads around a brave and strong demigod who actively tries to avoid unnecessary conflict and destruction as much as he can.

And that's Will Solace's strength: he has the ability to prevent as much harm as possible.

Will is a difficult character to write. There's a lot of dueling factors with his personality. He's calm and pacifying while also being brave and assertive. He's fun and lighthearted while also being intelligent, logical, and grounded. He's laidback while also being responsible and hardworking. He's insecure but not melodramatic. He's very caring and protective but not pushy.

Will's personality confuses Nico sometimes too.

He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently he could also be stubborn and aggravating.

The trick to writing Will is to keep in mind his default personality is a soft and lighthearted character. Writers tend to overemphasize the hard side of his personality when his default personality is actually the soft side.

Think of the relaxing, lanky cat metaphor Nico uses for him. He and Nico bicker often, and it works for Will because he rolls with everything and doesn't take things too seriously. He's able to alleviate Nico's moodiness with humor, wittiness, groundedness, and patience. Nico affectionately calls Will a "dork" because Will usually keeps things light. Interestingly enough, he's able to be lighthearted without coming across as insensitive or an airheaded goofball, the latter of which is something Nico dislikes about Percy's personality. On a related sidenote, another way writers make Will OOC is they make him too dumb or too immature. I know I mentioned to focus on Will's soft side, but be careful to avoid that too. He's a SENSIBLE, lanky cat.

The way Will keeps his composure during a stressful situation by using laughter while still being mature is expressed well in this exchange with Apollo. (Yes, Will has a lot to manage.)

It was difficult to think of this young man as my son. He was so poised, so unassuming, so free of acne. He also didn’t appear to be awestruck in my presence. In fact, the corner of his mouth had started twitching.

“Are—are you amused?” I demanded.

Will shrugged. “Well, it’s either find this funny or freak out. My dad, the god Apollo, is a fifteen-year-old—”

“Sixteen,” I corrected. “Let’s go with sixteen.”

“A sixteen-year-old mortal, lying in a cot in my cabin, and with all my healing arts—which I got from you—I still can’t figure out how to fix you.”

“There is no fixing this,” I said miserably. “I am cast out of Olympus. My fate is tied to a girl named Meg. It could not be worse!”

Will laughed, which I thought took a great deal of gall. “Meg seems cool. She’s already poked Connor Stoll in the eyes and kicked Sherman Yang in the crotch.”

The fiercer side of Will's personality comes out only when the situation calls for it; this happens sometimes when he has to be a caring family member, a responsible healer, or a warrior in a dire situation. Even when he gets more forceful, he doesn't get more forceful than he has to.

Since Will has such a balanced and lighthearted personality, what are his flaws? What are the dark sides of his personality? There are four main things that stick out.

1. He's insecure about his self-perceived lack of abilities.

"I agree," Will said. "I wish I was a better archer … I wouldn’t mind shooting my Roman relative off his high horse. Actually, I wish I could use any of my father’s gifts to stop this war." He looked down at his own hands with distaste. "Unfortunately, I’m just a healer."

2. He sometimes struggles to endure the heavy responsibilities he has as a healer and as a protector to his family.

“I got it reattached,” Will told me, his voice shaky with exhaustion. His scrubs were speckled with blood. “I need somebody to keep him stable.”

I pointed to the woods. “But—”

“I know!” Will snapped. “Don’t you think I want to be out there searching too? We’re shorthanded for healers. There’s some salve and nectar in that pack. Go!”

I was stunned by his tone. I realized he was just as concerned about Kayla and Austin as I was. The only difference: Will knew his duty. He had to heal the injured first. And he needed my help.

3. He forces himself to bottle his emotions to keep his composure.

Will laughed under his breath. “I’m terrified. But one thing you learn as head counselor: you have to keep it together for everyone else. Let’s get you on your feet."

Here's a second example.

I rested my hand on Will’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back by dawn.”

His mouth trembled ever so slightly. “How can you be sure?”

4. He constantly worries about his loved ones.

Nico rested his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Apollo, we were worried. Will was especially.”

In conclusion, Will Solace's personality is difficult to get correct. But don't worry, if you write Will as a laidback, witty cat in your fanfics, I guarantee he'll be more in-character than many other fanfics with Will Solace.

(Note: I am only human. If you believe I'm misinterpreting some aspects of Will's personality, feel free to express it. What I say isn't 100 percent the right interpretation.)