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ozzgin · 11 months ago

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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

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caffeinewitchcraft · 8 months ago

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The Hero and Hope 4/5

Okaaaay, so there's 5 parts instead of 4! I realized that the last part was over 6k words, so we're splitting it into two! The last part will still be posted next Friday, so this will keep us on track!

Summary: The picnic has an uninvited guest that you're uniquely suited to greet.

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(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone able to catch Marie,” the Lord says, brows raised. His golden eyes track Isla across the garden and he whistles when she jumps to tag his former knight. “That was not within the capabilities of a Villager.”

Ivan scans the crowd around them. Most of the townsfolk are too far away to eavesdrop and the ones close enough to potentially hear are engaged in their own conversations. “Careful, Brennan. If the Director hears you speculate…”

“Yes, the Director,” Lord Brennan sighs. He brings his teacup to his lips, but doesn’t drink. He contemplates Director Sarah where she crouches with a glass of water near Annie. “You know this is the first time we’ve met?”

It’d been a fight to get Sarah to agree to today at all. Ivan chooses his words carefully. “Your predecessor did not have the sort of…kind interest you do.”

The former Lord’s interest Sarah shared with them was a lot more horrifying. There’s a reason that Isla at only fifteen years old is the eldest at the orphanage.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lord Brennan agrees. He settles back into his seat and sighs in satisfaction. He watches the children gradually grow tired of their game and drift towards the dessert table. He grins when the townsfolk naturally make room for them, a few of them even fetching treats from the center of the table for the littler ones. “See my people together? It was very good of me to lure you and Marie to my territory.”

“You gave us a castle,” Ivan says. They weren’t so much lured as bludgeoned with generosity. Some days it feels like they blinked and ended up standing amongst fine silk and filigree.

“It’s a manor as far as paperwork goes,” Lord Brennan says.

“It has buttresses.”

“A very fortified manor.” Lord Brennan finally sips his tea and sighs again. “This tea is from our fields, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“It’s delicious.” The full canopies of the trees enveloping the estate rustle in the wind. The sun shines warmly overhead. Lord Brennan takes another drink. Delicious. “The land’s come a long way since we ousted my father, hasn’t it? Plentiful harvests, an established trade route, a new school. If it weren’t for the demons, my work would be done.”

“I would prefer you had no work then,” Ivan says dryly.

“Me too.” Lord Brennan sets his tea aside and rubs his eyes. “Any updates?”

“None,” Ivan admits, frustration leaking through his words. His face is still amiable and the disconnect between his tone and his visage is jarring. “We investigated the wolf tracks in the woods and only found carnage. No signs of the demons themselves.”

“So they are demons?”

“Regular wolves wouldn’t be able to evade a squadron of your knights, my lord.”

“Neither would demon wolves,” Lord Brennan says. He rubs his chin, brow furrowing. “I don’t like what that implies. Any sign of larger foes?”

Ivan doesn’t want to discuss this here. Marie’s eyes are on him, sensing his rising distress. He smiles and waves to her. “Besides the horned rabbit migration?”

“Is it a migration?”

“Isla saw five within the first four weeks of summer,” Ivan says.

The Lord’s attention falls on the teenager. She’s patiently letting one of the other children – Hera? The one who’d curtsied to him like a little noble – weave flowers into her braid. He tries to imagine her fighting a horned rabbit and his lips thin. “I’ll call for reinforcements from the capital.”

“Marie and I can—”

Lord Brennan waves Ivan off. “No, no, I’ve asked too much of you already. Aren’t the two of you too busy in your retirement already? I thought you’d be settled with a child by now.”

“It’s not good to rush these things,” Ivan says as he has the last three times Lord Brennan has asked. This time it’s Ivan who sighs. “It took Marie and I a good few months to win Director Sarah over after our misstep.”

“Asking about Destinies, was it?”

“Implying we’d value any child less for not being a knight like us,” Ivan corrects.

“There seem to be a lot of unusual Destinies in the orphanage,” Lord Brennan says. He’s not an Identifier but he’s got a good eye. Though no one can know for sure until a child either develops their mark or comes into their power at fifteen, he’s seen more than a few signs of a Scholar, a Guardian, and a Teacher. Once again he finds his gaze being drawn back to Isla. She’s got a child under each arm and is running from Marie again, the game having resumed after their snack break. “That one is a Guard, at least. Nobody else would have physical abilities like that.”

Ivan ignores the Lord’s comment. “It’s been worthwhile getting to know them all.” His smile turns a little more genuine. “They’re all good kids.”

“Surely you and Marie have an inkling of who’ll be a good fit?” When Ivan doesn’t reply, the Lord clicks his tongue. “You can’t choose all of them.”

Ivan’s voice is a study in nonchalance. “Can’t we?”

Lord Brennan opens his mouth only for no words to come out. At length, he has to laugh. His knights do like to keep busy. “You’d need a castle.”

“You did give us one, my lord.”

“I suppose I did.”

The two men lapse into a pleasant silence. It is good to see the townsfolk this cheerful. This town is the furthest from Lord Brennan’s own castle and he rarely has a chance to visit. The first time he had had been very different. The people still bore the wounds of winter in gouged cheeks and brittle smiles. Now he sees the glow of health everywhere he looks.

He contemplates the Director once again. She’d been the only one back then to not seem pleased to see him ride in on his white horse. Even now he can feel the chill of her scrutiny as she stood defensively between him and the orphanage. None of that chill is present today. Her smile is as sweet as his tea while she tends to a scrape the little Scholar sustained in this round of tag. “Ms. Sarah is very pretty, isn’t she?”

“I know we can’t adopt them all,” Ivan blurts out. He doesn’t seem to have heard Lord Brennan. His gaze is turned towards his own inner conflict which is why he also doesn’t notice the blush dusting the Lord’s cheeks. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. Marie and I decided to adopt a child who would benefit from what little we can offer. Military arts and luck.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” Lord Brennan says with raised brows. “You and Marie offer a lot more than a Knight’s experience. Haven’t you shown that already in your actions?” He’s not aware of everything his former knights have done, but he’s heard plenty from the children today. He didn’t think Marie had the patience to teach anyone how to read.

Ivan’s hands fist. “It’s not enough, it’s not—the little boy. Josiah. He’s so smart. I don’t even know where to start with him and even Marie says that he’ll soon outpace her—”

“Well,” Lord Brennan says, “Neither of you are Teachers, true, but there is a school for that--”

“And Annie wants to know why bread rises and why the sun sets and how many seconds are in a day—”

“All kids are curious—”

“Hera staged a whole theater production for my birthday and all we could do was clap—”

Is he missing something? “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“We don’t know any actors or directors to introduce her to!” Ivan cries out. He quickly lowers his voice, but can’t hide the stress around his eyes. “What could we give to a child like her? Like any of them? Marie and I are out of our depth. It would be so much simpler if one was a Knight!”

The Lord tentatively offers, “If Isla’s a Guard--?”

Ivan gives a cry of distress that he barely capture in the palm of his hand. “Isla! That girl feels like my daughter already, but…she’s been through so much. She doesn’t need a father who teaches her how to fight or a mother who teaches her how to withstand a siege! She deserves to never have to fight again. What could we offer her? What could we possibly give to her she hasn’t already learned on her own?”

A light goes on in the Lord’s head. He takes in the festivities with new eyes. The town’s Baker, Blacksmith, Teacher… His friends have invited every possible parent they could in hopes of providing for the children in ways they felt incapable of doing themselves. As noble as that was…“Ivan, being a parent goes beyond the skills you can give a child. It’s more than fostering talent or an offering an apprenticeship. It’s—”

A horse’s scream drowns out the Lord’s next words.

Ivan is in front of Lord Brennan with his sword drawn before the horses and their blood-splattered riders even round the side of the castle.

-----.

You throw Annie and Josiah behind you the moment you hear the sound of hooves galloping towards the manor.

“Isla, what—” Josiah starts to ask and then cuts himself off as the innkeepers and their entourage burst into the party.

You smell blood before your eyes register the terrible red staining their fine clothing.

“ORCS!” Mr. Innkeeper screams over the frightened snorts of his horse. He stumbles down from his mount and staggers towards the Lord. “They overtook our carriage—please, my wife, she’s hurt—”

Mrs. Inkeeper is holding her side and seemingly barely holding onto the saddle horn. “Our guards won’t be enough to hold them off—”

“Inside,” Sarah hisses into your ear. She points after Hera who’s already shepherding the younger kids into the building. “Now.”

“��an army—”

“—fast—”

“—waiting for us—”

You move faster than you’ve allowed yourself since you arrived. This is no time to take care in hiding your abilities; there are roars coming from the forest unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Your senses seem to dial up with your heartrate and you can hear the clash of steel against rock and flesh. You scoop Annie into your arms and leap after Josiah and Sarah.

Mr. Dallen’s face is pale as he ushers you all into the manor. He holds the door open for the townsfolk. The hall fills with the sounds of panic and sobs as fear washes through you like a tidal wave. There have never been orcs south of the mountains, there have never been demons bigger than a horned rabbit in the last twenty years, even when the Winter froze the river—

Mr. Dallen waves down Marie as she sprints to the large doorway. You think that he’s going to pull her inside to safety, but instead he thrusts her bow into her outstretched hands.

“Do not open these doors,” she commands. Behind her the knights are assembling into a formation, their Lord at the center. Ivan stands before them all, barking orders to ready their spears as the trees in front of them begin to sway. Marie pulls a dagger from under her skirts and slices the bottom half of her dress clean off. She kicks it away from her feet as she talks. “Take everyone to the basement—”

“Ma’am, the escape tunnel still isn’t cleared of debris—”

Marie swears so violently that half the townsfolk gasp. She grabs Mr. Dallen by the shoulder, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her husband. “Then we will draw them away. The moment you think you can, run to the wagon. Get the children to—” She bites her lip. You can see the devastating truth flash through her mind. There isn’t anywhere to go. “Damnit. Bar the door and arm everyone you can.”

Mr. Dallen’s lips are bloodless as he nods. “My lady.”

Marie turns to everyone. Her voice is unlike anything you’ve heard come from her lips; it’s harsh and barking. A commander giving orders much like Ivan is doing outside. “Listen, everyone. We are in danger. Our best estimate is that 25 orcs are marching on the manor. There is no guarantee of survival. The moment this door is breached, it will mean the knights have failed. You must be prepared to fight. Do you understand?”

Twenty-five? Your hands ball into fists and your breath catches in your throat. You’ve heard of entire villages being wiped out by three.

“Then we’ll fight with the knights,” the Baker says. He pushes away from the center of the group and marches to the wall. He pulls down the crossed axes, keeps one, tosses the other to the Blacksmith. She catches it easily. “You’ll need everyone who can hold a weapon.”

Marie never voices her protest. You can see the strain of holding it back in her tense shoulders and her poignant silence. At long last, she nods. “You’re right. Stay behind the knights. They know how to handle the frontline better than you.”

There’s a flurry after that. The townsfolk divide in half. Those unable to fight slide back as those who can start scavenging for weapons. Mr. Dallen grimly pulls two long daggers from under his coat while pointing your neighbors to decorative swords, to ornamental spears, to the heavy coatrack just inside the parlor.

Grimly, you stride past Sarah, ignoring her hiss and darting hands. You can leave the weapons to the villagers, there’s a large knife on the dessert table you can use—

Marie slams a hand against your chest. You stagger back at the weight of the blow, breath knocked from your lungs. You’re more stunned than hurt as you gape at her.

“Children stay here,” Marie says. Her eyes narrow. “No exceptions.”

“But I’m—”

“We don’t have time to argue!” She pushes you further back, clearing the doorway for the armed villagers to run outside towards the knights. “You’re strong Isla, but this isn’t your fight. Stay here. Guard the door.”

The winter wind howls in your mind. You splutter. “But I—”

Marie spins away from you. “Director Sarah.”

Sarah’s arms slide around your shoulders. “Yes, lady.”

The closing of the door feels like a blow in itself. You stare sightlessly at the unyielding wood as your emotions rage. How could she? You’re strong, you can do more, you can help, you’re the one who kept everyone from starving—

“We need to barricade the windows,” Director Sarah is saying to the townsfolk. Half of them gaze at her uncomprehendingly. Her hands slide from your shoulders slowly, as if testing that you aren’t going to leap outside. When you don’t move, she lets go entirely. “Isla, move the furniture. Hera and Josiah, find something to tie it down with.”

You move on autopilot. There are other hands alongside yours as you push the sofa and armchairs in front of the windows, the townsfolk coming together to defend the manor. Hera darts between you all and pulls the curtains closed, reclaiming the curtain ties to use as rope. She’s got a grim determination in her eyes that looks uncomfortably familiar.

Your attention is on the noise outside. The orcs are slow, but loud. The roars change to squeals and bellows of challenge. Branches break and there’s a terrifying, splintering crash as a tree falls. Metal rings as the knights raise their shields. You can see it all in your mind’s eye, the knights in a defensive line across the length of the garden, the Lord securely in their center. Ivan is shouting about this being what they’ve trained for, that there are more of them than there are orcs, that this city won’t fall—

And the Lord is speaking too, quickly and quietly to Marie. The escape tunnel? Damnit, I should have sent more men—

It will be fine, Marie says. Her bow sings as she holds it ready and you know the way her muscles flex and her eyes narrow from experience. We won’t let a single one of those monsters past us. We won’t--

The knights bellow alongside the orcs. Your heart leaps and your focus is jarred. You’re standing in front of the door again, your hands balled at your sides. Everyone can hear the battle now and the townsfolk scream when the orcs’ battle cries shake the manor.

“Quiet!” Is that your voice? It is. Your eyes slide to the frightened faces behind you. “You’ll distract the knights.”

Sarah steps up alongside you. “And let the orcs know exactly where we are.”

The villagers quiet into aborted whimpers and muffled sobs.

The battle rages, louder and louder. Are orcs big? They sound big. When you close your eyes you can hear the way their feet pummel the earth. Do they have weapons? Metal clashes. A knight screams that their hides are too thick. The Lord shouts back to aim for their eyes. A table splinters, a bow sings, there’s a liquid gasp—

BOOM!

You slam your hands against the door, muscles straining as another blow lands against it. The wood convulses under your hands and the lock creaks. The villagers scream.

“No,” someone whispers. “No, they found us.”

You’re eight and the snow spirits are howling for blood. Your shoulders ache with the effort to hold the door against the wind. The cold is biting at your fingertips and there is an old hope dying in your chest--

Small hands slam against the door next to yours. Hera is snarling and swearing, Josiah is crying. Sarah is telling the kids not to worry, Isla and Hera and Josiah won’t let them in –

They’re here. You’re not alone.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The orc’s bellow isn’t nearly as loud as Ivan’s roar.

The blow you’re bracing for never comes. Ivan goads the orc to follow him, to leave the manor alone, to eat the man readily available to him—

It does not sound like the knights are winning now.

“My Lord!” Marie’s voice is strained.

“Do not fall back, they’ll corner us—”

“Who is that? Who is—”

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

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

Thanks for reading! If you'd like read the last part of Isla a week early, please consider supporting me on Patreon(X)!

#my writing #the hero and hope #fantasy writing #writeblr

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luimagines · 1 month ago

Text

Always in Ink

Another commission!

They asked for Calamity Link with a soulmate au. Of course I had to oblige.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You were under the assumption that your soulmate was either the most romantic person alive or you were going to be made into the most oblivious person on the planet.

Every person by the time they turn ten years old gets a special mark on their skin. It was usually on the inside of their wrist, but there have been known cases where it has appeared on the leg or back. It’s not exactly common but there were more than enough people to stand out from the norm that others needn’t be concerned when they didn’t see anything on their wrist.

This mark that the people receive is considered special and unique to each and every person. While it appeared to be nothing but beautiful calligraphy lines made up of total gibberish to everyone else, it was said to be the first words your soulmate would say to you.

No one else could read it but the person the words were written on and the person who was to speak them. It was both to keep the sanctity of the bond safe from those wishing to sabotage the connection and to keep either party from finding each other too soon.

At least that was what you were told from a young age. No one really seemed keen to prove whether that was the truth or not. Most were ready to merely accept it as reality since it made the most sense.

Your mark was directly over your heart. If you were to ask anyone they would have said that it appeared as beautiful climbing vines with a multitude of unique flowers that twirled up to your collarbone and over your ribs.

You on the other hand, every time you looked into the mirror saw the words etched in black ink, ‘You; it was always you.’

The idea of those very words being written over your heart was enough to send it pounding. The thought of having someone important enough, with those very words, the first words they’ll say to you, and having them etched over your skin in such an intimate location; was enough to make you swoon.

“It was always you.” You trace the words over your skin and smile to yourself.

A horn blares in the distance. It’s sharp, long and alarming. Your city is under attack!

Panic floods your system quickly. Before you can even begin to think of the ramifications of your actions, you go to the window to see what it could possibly be.

Bokoblins, moblins, lynels- each creature more menacing than the last, begin to storm Mabe Village. Screams of your neighbors begin to fill your ears and shake the walls of your house.

You rush out of the building and take to the streets, not wanting to be near the beginnings of the fires the monsters are setting. The smell of smoke quickly envelopes the main square and you’re stuck wondering where your family went.

Your first instinct is to go to Castle Town. The city had high walls and was fortified to withstand such an attack. There were countless talks from your neighborhood that should anything happen, you were run to the city at once. It was the safety plan after all if you weren’t on the field fighting to protect your homes.

The adrenaline however, serves to confuse you. As you run through the city of Mabe Village, you find yourself running in circles, always coming back without finding the exit.

The monsters quickly catch wind of your confusion, targeting you before you so much as have the time to gather your bearings. Bokoblins are quickly on your tail, rushing at you with high pitched shrieks and pig-like snorts. Their thunderous steps shake the ground as they begin to gain ground on you.

You’re already so tired.

Shing!

The monsters scream, turning their heads to a new attacker. You don’t look behind you, but you’re not too far gone in your panic to not notice that someone has come to your rescue. You hope it was one of the knights. Someone trained and able to defend just enough so you can make a proper escape from the attack.

As you hide behind one of the walls, you can hear that the battle is short. Even when your own breath threatens to cover up the sounds of the battle, it’s not lost on you that it’s only a matter of moments before the monsters are no more. There’s the tell tale sound of smoke as they poof out of existence. Their cries of agony cut short by their failing bodies.

Whoever has come to your rescue must be incredibly skilled.

The silence that falls over the area is unsettling at best. Almost like a calm before the storm. Eager to get away but unwilling to at least not thank your rescuer to his face, you poke your head out from behind the wall. What you see shocks you.

There’s a young man there about your age. At least that’s what you’re willing to assume. He’s blond with his hair in a ponytail at the back of his head. Pleased with his work, he sheathed his sword again, turning toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat. He has the bluest eyes you have ever seen on a person. “Th-thank you.” You stumble toward him, fumbling over your words as the shock of nearly being attacked washes over you. You introduce yourself quickly, wanting to know the name of your savior.

The young man’s eyes widened. You hear him suck in a breath to speak in reply before a loud crashing sound cuts him off, diverting his attention behind him.

A young woman of the sheikah clan screams, running past the both of you. The knight doesn’t hesitate to chase after her, cutting off the bokoblins from attacking her much like the ones before had planned for you.

You, with very little forethought, rush after her as well, wanting to drag her safety as the knight deals with the threat.

But she trips, dropping a strange object in her hand.

A small, white, egg-like structure jumps to life while the city’s foundation begins to shake beneath you. Unwilling to let that dissuade you, despite the strange tower that begins to emerge from the ground, you rush toward the young woman and pull her to her feet. Ducking to give her the strange plate-like thing she was carrying earlier, you shove it in her hands and push her behind you.

“Are you ok?”

“No.” She replies, looking up at the tower for longer than you think necessary. “I needed to bring this to the castle.”

Once the tower was fully erect, the monsters ran in the opposite direction, giving the three of you more time to breathe.

“It’s… a tower?” The sheika said softly, gazing questionably up at the massive structure.

“I… I guess so?” You answered her, looking around as if there were answers to be found in the air.

The knight nodded at you both and you gave him one in return. You were both alright. Unharmed for the most part. Just confused.

He turned to the egg-like thing and studied it. You followed his gaze and realized that you’ve really never seen anything like it before. It looked mechanical but ancient, seemingly brought to life by the change and attack of the monsters.

“An inexplicable guardian…” The sheika walked up beside you. “And a mysterious tower… I hate to say it, but we have little hope of figuring this out on our own.”

“He’s kinda cute…” You tilted your head at it, watching in fascination as the little being walked around on its three legs and made small beeps and boops.

Without warning, the little guy took off as fast as it could go out of the direction of your city.

“Hey, what are you-! No!” The sheika ran after it. “Stop right there!”

The knight ran with her, leaving you alone in the once chaotic square.

“Oh… ok…” You looked around awkwardly. Now what? The battle seemed to be over. The cries of the monsters and the sound of the clashing steel had faded to nearly nothing. It was quiet now.

With not much left to do, you went back home to check the damage.

Unscathed.

Odd, but not unwelcome. You tried to shake the events of the day off of your shoulders and get on with it. It was easier said than done.

The course over the next few days left the people of Hyrule dizzy with unrest. The hustle and bustle of daily life had shifted to more exciting times, with an inherent sense of doom and foreboding. Many were speaking of leaving the city or Hylian territory altogether, but where would they go.

Your family had tried to keep things calm within the walls of your home before the people had caught wind that the princess herself would be traveling through. It was probably the most positive news Mabe Village could have received, even if it meant she was only passing through.

Your neighbors were to remain indoors to leave her undisturbed. But of course that didn’t mean that people wouldn’t be looking through the windows to catch a glimpse of the beloved Princess Zelda.

You were of the same mind, if only because she was nearly elusive otherwise to the hylians of Mabe Village. You had no idea what she looked like.

Hearing the small troop pass by your street, you picked one of the highest windows your house had to offer. You saw her. Blond in her royal street attire. You smiled softly. She couldn’t have been much older than you either. The thought was somewhat comforting.

But then you started to pay attention to the people around her. There was a zora at the back accompanied with a rather large goron, but there was a familiar mop of blond hair next to the princess that had shaken you.

It was the knight from before!

Had he always accompanied the princess? Or did he get a promotion? If he was the princess’s personal guard, then what was he doing so far down in your city when it was attacked?

Your heart ached with a strange and foreign pain. It felt constricting, almost as if you were suddenly unable to breathe.

The knight turned around suddenly, catching you in the window at once.

You gasp and duck, hiding yourself behind the walls once more as you try to settle your racing heart. The eye contact was borderline electric. Your mouth was instantly dry and your palms were covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“What is wrong with me?” You whisper, hugging your knees to your chest. He was handsome, sure, but not panic worthy. At least, that’s what you thought. You’ve never had such a strong visceral reaction to a person like that before. You still didn’t so much as know his name.

You stayed hidden until the entourage had passed.

Sounds of chaos quickly started up once again. From the sounds beyond the walls of your home, the infamous Yiga Clan had gathered in an attempt to murder the Princess Zelda.

This time however, you stayed inside. The handsome stranger that saved you had much better things to do with his time than entertain you when you would only be getting in the way. Losing your life didn’t seem worth the price for simply wanting to meet him again.

Which would have been the end of it, if you had done the smart thing and stayed out of sight while you were at it.

Curious creature that you were, you looked back outside your window.

Right into the ever lifeless gaze of a Yiga mask.

You screamed as the cult member laughed and quite literally pulled you out of your home, tossing you to the streets and arms of another member waiting for you below. Their sicken laugh scratched the back of your brain like nails on a chalkboard.

You tried to fight out of their hold, but without any training on your side, you were no match for the ever ruthless Yiga Clan.

You screamed again as the man began to leave without in his arms. Thoughts of what’s to come and what they could have possibly planned for you invaded your mind at once, instilling panic and fear. “NO!” The shrill sound of your own screams seemed foreign to your ears, having reached a point of terror you’ve never experienced before. “LET ME GO!”

The Yiga Clan male fought to keep you within his grip. You kicked, punched and tried to elbow him in the weak points your father had tried to teach you in the past. But given that you were being held from behind, they had little to no effect on the beast which held you captive. A peaceful life has left you at a disadvantage unfortunately. There wasn’t anything you could have done to get out of his grip.

Even as you landed a considerable hit to his groin, you were simply dropped and picked up by another Yiga Clan member.

You screamed in outrage and adrenaline, hitting the person as many times as you could before you were teleported into a place the civilians avoided at all cost.

“Enjoy the party!” He taunted before teleporting away from you.

You shot to your feet at once, staying silent before making an attempt for the exit.

The beast before you was huge, bigger than most of the houses of Hyrule. With burgundy skin, gnarly toes and claws, it’s one eye opened with a flash. The hinox roared to life, indignant at being woken up from its nap.

The scream that tore through your throat was blood curdling and raw.

The beast settled its attention and rage on you as it took a step forward. You ran, knowing that this beast could eat you in a single bite if it managed to grab you. Anything within arms distance of this beast was a borderline death sentence.

You tripped.

Rolling over, you saw the massive, black tipped claws reaching out to you and screamed again, alerting everyone and everything to your impending doom.

Ffffpt-!

You gasped, feeling the air around you snap as an arrow embedded itself into the finger of the hinox. It bought you enough time to get back to your feet and run away back to safety. You crashed into somebody, making you scream again in the assumption it was another Yiga Member.

He grabbed your shoulders, settling you at once. You looked at him and gasped. “It’s you.”

The knight looked at you with an almost panicked expression before shoving you behind him.

A beat passed as the hinox roared again. It eyed you both but the knight wasn’t undeterred. He shoved your shoulder with a grunt before rushing the giant without a single look in your direction.

You took the silent order to heart and ran as fast as you could back to anything that resembled relative safety.

In trying to figure out where in your city you had been taken to, you ran into the zora and goron you had eyed before from your window when they had passed your house. You ran to them without thought, seeing that they were armed and more than capable of defending themselves.

“Help me!!”

The zora appeared to be a smaller female, red in the scales and adorned with chains and zora jewels that you saw from time to time when the merchants visited Mabe Village on their way to Castle Town. You ran to her first. “Help me! I don’t know what to do!”

She gasped softly when you collapsed to your knees by her side. She fought off the remaining Yiga and gently put a hand to your shoulder as you fought for your breath. A calming cooling sensation washed over you. It settled in your bones and chilled away the small aches and pains you had gathered in your tussle with the Yiga members that had taken you out of your home.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She said softly.

You gulped and shook your head. “No. No, I’m not hurt. At least not terribly so. Thank you.”

“What happened to you?” The goron walked over. “I’m Daruk.”

You introduced yourself, quickly explaining what happened to you and why you were outside at the moment of crisis like this. “I think they wanted to use me as a distraction to get the hinox hungry for more. But there was a knight who came to save me. Blond. Blue eyes.”

“That would be Link.” The zora said with a soft smile on her face. “He is the princess’s personal guard.”

“Her personal guard…” You echoed with soft awe. That would make more sense. He appeared to be exceptionally skilled with a sword and he was no doubt good at what he did to be where he was. You gulped quietly, regarding the talismans on the zora in front of you. Something about her seemed important. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Mipha.” She bowed quickly. “Princess of the Zora.”

You quickly got to your feet in a rush. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to get in your way.”

Mipha shook her head. “It was my pleasure to assist you. Head home and stay low. We will handle the Yiga.”

“They’ll regret ever stepping foot here!” Daruk swung his rock smasher with little regard to the space around him.

You nodded frantically, thanking them both for their assistance before making your way home with nothing but getting to safety in your mind.

It didn’t register until the next day that you had finally a name to the knight that continually saved you. One day, when things calm for the sake of normality again, you want to thank him to his face.

The unexpected attack on the princess, while it proved futile, had done nothing to lessen the tensions around your home.

As if to make matters worse, the skies had darkened on the evening of the princess’s seventeenth birthday.

The ground shook and the ever standing Hyrule Castle was shrouded in dark, blistering red smoke. Screams once again echoed through the streets as the men, women and children all began to run.

Mabe Village was close to Castle Town as it was. The smoke was quickly spreading and overtaking everything in its path.

The tower in the middle of the city shuts down. The lights dimmed and the points at the top collapsed as the power to the pillar was cut off.

Explosions are heard from the direction of Hyrule Castle and all hope is quickly lost.

Strange malicious machines that your stunned and melted brain unhelpfully identifies as guardians begin to storm all the inhabitable range of your people. People take off running, taking to the streets and the guardians blast through every wall as if the bricks were nothing but plaster.

You run, cursing your luck of living in interesting times for the nth time over the course of a month. You panted and ducked quickly into the woods for a safe hiding spot. You bobbed and weaved through the trees and the bushes, desperate to feel something akin to normality once more.

You trip, rolling to your side and tucking yourself close to the trunk of a rather large tree. There’s a small hole between the roots. Despite your exhaustion, you shimmy yourself into the hidey hole to catch your breath. The tension snaps from your fatigued body and you black out.

You’re not sure how long you’re there for.

You wake up every now and then, succumbing to the blissful realm of the dreamscape, wanting to escape the nightmare that your home has found itself in.

Shouting.

More shouting.

Human voices.

They’re coming closer.

“Is anyone here?”

“Come out! We have refuge!”

“We are here to take survivors to a safe point!”

“Anyone!”

“Here.” You call you weakly, your voice stunted and torn from the abuse and disuse it had gone through. You force yourself to wake up, to keep fighting. Pushing yourself free of the tree roots and the brambles, you crawl toward the voices. “Here!”

“We found one!” The men shout and rush towards you.

The next hours are a blur. You’re wounded (which would explain why you struggled with consciousness) and apparently weaker than you cared to acknowledge. You and a few others they had managed to comb out of the forest are quickly escorted to a horse driven carriage, where a doctor and healers await you.

You are taken away, through the thicker parts of the forest and through trails you fail to recognize. The doctors and healers treat you and patch you up, letting you drink water and broth to regain your strength.

You nap again, feeling safe in a way that the previous days hadn’t allowed you to feel.

You wake to find yourself on a bed, warm and undisturbed.

Strange. The last thing you remember was being on that carriage. How did you get here?

The light is nearly blinding after being shrouded in dim lighting as you were. The sky is still dark, appearing as if the world was bathed in a red tinted twilight. The view would otherwise be spectacular.

You can see nearly all of Hyrule from your vantage point. From the Hebra region, to Death Mountain, all the way to Akala and the seas beyond. Stranger yet, you know you’ve never been here before but you can’t help but recognize where you are.

“...The Great Plateau.” The words leave you breathless.

Looking around, you see that there’s many Hylians around. Most of them are knights. But was the occasional civilian out and about, tending to the soldiers and keeping the basic settlement afloat by attending to the basic needs.

“Oh you’re awake.” Someone notices you and quickly gives you the rundown of what’s been happening while you’ve been recuperating. Your hand lands over your heart, feeling the weight of something lost you’ve never obtained. Many have fallen. Your soulmate was likely to be one of them.

The King had taken to settling on the plateau for a counter strike after the castle was lost, bringing all that he could to safety beyond the blackened clouds.

In the distance, you can hear the roar of battles continuing to be waged, of monster cries and laser blasts and more explosions than you could count.

The skies get darker still.

Determined to make yourself useful, you begin doing everything you can, aiding your people with your talents as they regroup and form a strategy.

Within hours, a blinding light overtakes Hyrule Field. It forces the blacked skies at a distance, bringing the sunshine back to the surface of the earth. And with it, the unfathomable notion of hope. Hope that all is not lost.

The princess had awakened her power.

News quickly spread like wildfire and everyone was excited at the hint of victory over the horizon. You yourself were happy as well. The idea that the nightmare would soon end would be enough to buoy your spirits until it was all over.

Help arrived almost at once. It seemed that within the course of a day, the princess and the troops that had rallied beside her had joined the group at the plateau, eager to merge the forces of Hyrule once more.

You watched the soldiers all clamber to the Temple of Time when you saw him. The knight from before- no, you should have known him better by now. It was Link! With the princess!

Something in your heart rejoiced at the sight of him unharmed and well. You gasped and rushed toward him before you remembered yourself. Would he even remember you? It had already felt like a lifetime again since you had seen him by the hinox. And even then, it was a passing glance at most as he saved your life for a second time.

You stepped back, turning around and slapping your cheeks softly.

No, it was futile. He had bigger things to worry about than to bother with you. He was merely doing his duty.

Footsteps. Foomp-!

“What in the-?” Your words had been cut off. Someone had rushed to you, hugging you from behind. A moment passes before they let go, allowing you to turn around to see them.

“Link?” Your eyebrows shoot up. He looked on the verge of tears.

“You.” He croaks, hugging you again.

You’re thoroughly confused. “Me?”

Lightning strikes in your head. You’re impressed by the fortitude you had managed to clamor together to not scream at the top of your lungs.

“...Me?” You breathe, putting your hand over your heart in the pattern of your mark.

He nods, seemingly shaken up by seeing you once again. “It was always you.”

The young man nods, ripping off his gauntlet and showing you his mark. With your mouth suddenly dry, you took his hand gently in your, bringing his wrist closer to get a look at the black lace like patterns on his skin. However, instead of gibberish like your brain was used to expecting, there; in bold unmistakable letters was what you had told him. ‘Thank you. I’m-’

And there was your name. Plain as the nose on your face.

It was heart stopping. The air was thick around the two of you as he waited for your reaction. He had known for much longer than you. Also unaware of if you were safe or not while he had run into danger head first on multiple occasions. The thought causes you to grip his hand a little tighter. He still needed to run head first into danger. The war was far from over.

The silence drags on and the others are beginning to stare. It’s not lost on the people what’s happened. There’s only so many that willingly show their soulmarks to another and not have it be dismissed quickly. It’s achingly clear that you’ve read what it said.

You can’t stand the growing tension and you hate to think about the implication of this discovery. Wanting to break the ice, you gulp and give Link a weak, if rueful smile, much to your dismay. “...You had it way easier than I did.”

To his credit, he laughs, shifting his hand into your grip to properly hold your hand. “You… could say that.”

You smile a little easier, looking at his hand as he holds yours. You can feel the calluses on his hands from no doubt the hours he’s put into his training. It’s enough to make you gulp. The sword on his back, while new to you, is glaring obvious to anyone who knows of the role he must play.

“...I’ll wait for you.” You decide. Because you will. Because it’s the only thing you can do.

Besides; you’ve waited long enough for your soulmate as it is. You can wait a little bit longer.

“Just promise me something?” You whisper, putting his hand over your own mark. He nods, all determined and serious. The fierceness of his gaze sends your heart pounding within its cage. You nearly forget how to speak. “...Come back to me. I can’t-... I can’t lose my soulmate after just finding him.”

“Link?” The princess walks in your direction. You hear her quiet and confused voice as if it was miles away. You’re too focused on the will-be-hero in front of you.

“Promise me.” You stress, pressing his hand harder over your heart, over your soulmark.

He nods. “Promise. I wouldn’t ever do that to you.”

Something else clicks in your mind then. Not only had he known who you were to him before you knew who he was to you, he had saved your life. Not once but twice from what would have been an immediate death otherwise.

And then the castle was taken over.

He had no idea what happened to you. Link could have easily assumed that he lost you without ever speaking a word to you. He must have been terrified.

You gulp. The weight of that knowledge sits heavily within your stomach like a lead ball. “Good. I’ll hold you to that. On your honor as a knight of Hyrule.”

“On my honor as your soulmate.” He whispers, pulling your hands away from your chest to press a small kiss to your knuckles. “I swear by this.”

“Oh.” The princess looks awkward suddenly, quickly making herself sparse to no longer intrude on the moment.

Your heart goes out to the young lady, but you can’t fully bring yourself to care too much, too caught up in your own little world at the moment.

“My soulmate…” You smiled at him. “I like that idea.”

“May I-?” He says, fingers deftly moving to fiddle with the he of your sleeve. He takes a moment to breathe before looking you in the eye. “May I see your soulmark?”

You bite your lip, fighting back the blush that threatens to consume you as if your life depended on it. “It’s not on my wrists.”

“...Oh.” He says simply. You can see him poke his cheek from the inside with his tongue before he clicks it softly. “Where is it?”

You smile and take his hand again, putting it back over your heart like you had done earlier. “You’ve always been here.”

Link smiles. Actually smiles at you.

He was breathtaking. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You were blushing all the way down to your chest, no doubt covering and coloring the intricate vining over your skin.

“Always there.” He echoes softly. “Always with you. Never forget it.”

“I have you with me forever.” You reply. “How can I?”

“Link!” Another voice calls, snapping you both out of your trance. Jumping, you turn to the voice, looking at a rather diverse group of people watching you both shamelessly.

“It is time.”

#legend of zelda #hyrule warriors #age of calamity #Link x reader #link loz

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mothmiso · 6 months ago

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Ait Benhaddou (2) (3) (4) by Gilles Remus

#historic buildings #fortified village #ksar #qsar #ighrem #moroccan architecture #moroccan earthen clay architecture #morocco

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hhnguyen · 2 years ago

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aren’t you just precious

Everything medical related was a google search, so those in the medical field please don’t come for me - I was a literature major for a reason 😭

♢ Pairing: Parents!Jake & Neytiri x Oldest daughter!Reader

♢ Word count: 2k

♢ Genre: suspense, action, angst, slight humor - Warnings: explicit description of injuries, blood, cursing, reader is a lil crazy

⌲ Description: Your iknimaya goes a little south. Aka introducing the ‘demon ikran.’

M A S T E R L I S T

Jake Sully, a marine veteran at the age of twenty-two had gone through absolute hell on earth before ever setting his disabled ass on Pandora.

He thought he had seen the worse - comrades shot down right in front of his eyes, the blood covering their skin, blank dead eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes there were those who were actually blown to bits by bombs and grenades, screaming not even five feet away from him as they clutched their missing limbs, begging a nonexistent God for mercy.

Then there was his own injury. The pain he hardly remembered, because he had gotten to the point of delusion when they finally managed to drag him out of the war zone, half dead, and to the VA hospital.

The incoherent words he had heard after waking up from his surgery despite his hazy vision and buzzing hearing at that time, yet the truth coming out of the doctor’s mouth had still hit him in the face like the largest ‘fuck you and your life’ to exist.

“...ave severe spinal injury...fixable...expensive, marine.”

A severe spinal injury that was fixable but too expensive for a marine like him to afford.

For an active man as he had been in the past, the thought of being paralyzed from the waist had been his worst nightmare to the point of being ready to waste away his life.

Though even after all that shit, Jake Sully felt like he wanted to throw up as he stared at his oldest baby girl at the fresh age of fourteen laying there in front of him; delirious as he had once been in the same position, bleeding and bruised.

He could only thank Eywa that your heart was still beating and your body intact.

Well, mostly.

The almost nauseous angle of your left wrist certainly did not look natural. And their bones were fortified, stronger than anything else to human knowledge. Yet it had managed to snap as easily as that.

Neytiri - his beautiful, poor mate. She was distraught, one would say more so than him. Sitting only inches away from your fevering form in one of Hell’s Gate treating rooms for avatars, muttering prayers with dried tears upon her face.

Your injuries had been so severe that not even the abilities of your grandmother, the Tsahik, could heal you solely through the spiritual power of Eywa. These kinds of injuries needed the advanced surgery of human technology.

His other children were barred from coming inside, having been firmly ordered to remain in their village as he and Neytiri made sure that you would be okay. None of them wanted to keep them away, but neither did they want them to be traumatized by seeing your bloodied and broken form.

A stark contrast from the smiling and proud sister that they knew.

And yet, you had still managed to complete your iknimaya.

Jake watched with a bated breath from the air upon Bob, his own faithful ikran through the years, as he saw the slight encouraging push Neytiri had given you on the edge of the nesting place. Your, oh so small form, looked firm and stubborn as you steadily stalked forward in a crouched form, the band for the beak held in your grasp with determination.

He watched as one ikran flew away. Then another. And another. A third one. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth.

He had lost count after the eleventh.

You were getting frustrated, he could see that. Neytiri was still there, calling out for you to calm down. To be patient as he moved Bob a little bit closer, but not too much to distract you if you were to see him hovering.

And there he was.

Jake had seen it before you did. The vicious screech even reached him high up in the clouds and echoed above all the other ikrans.

He felt his blood run cold as the midnight blue beast, nearly black in color with its yellow and green detailing jumped down from the highest point of the rocks and landed behind you as you whirled around with snarl of your own.

But then as fleeting as it had been, you had grinned, taking in the magnificent animal despite its bloodthirsty aggressiveness.

“Aren’t you just precious?” Neytiri had told him of your words in the aftermath.

His mate hollered in encouragement, and he could hardly stop the prideful tug of his own lips.

Rather than you leaping on the beast, Jake straightened up as he saw the ikran run at you as well. Both were only inches away from crashing, as you last minute decided to slide beneath its belly - slight enough to fit as you rolled away on the other side and then slung the catcher around its mouth swiftly before throwing yourself on its back.

His expectations had been hopeful from that moment. Positive. But wrong, oh so wrong.

Rather than trying to snap at you by turning, he watched in horror as the ikran seemed to have a human mind as it slammed against a stone wall, you hitting it first.

Neytiri had screamed, already half leaping forward but stopping herself as she saw you still clinging to the beast.

Both had thought that had been the worst of it until the ikran tried it again. This time deliberately falling backward to land on its back with a rumble, where you were hung on.

“LET GO MA ‘ITE! LET GO!” Neytiri was yelling. Or begging. He couldn’t be sure in his own fear.

But both of them underestimate you, as a growl mixed with what Jake had assumed to be a painful yell from yourself erupted. Legs manage to wrap around the animal’s neck despite being crushed underneath its weight.

He saw belatedly you were only holding on to the banshee catcher with one hand as you pulled at its head hard enough to make the animal let out another vicious muted screech.

And then you truly proved you were his daughter.

“C’MON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. GRANDPA BOB WAS BETTER THAN THIS!”

The ikran had gotten angrier, trashing before suddenly rolling like a fucking bowling pin on the stone-covered ground.

Towards the edge of the cliff.

Neytiri ran, and Jake dove, both reaching out and screaming your name as you and the ikran fell off the edge.

As his mate leaned almost desperately over the edge, Jake forced himself to draw Bob back up, only for a few seconds - not to interfere with the rite. But it was in those few seconds he felt like his heart had stopped beating.

There was that familiar screech again.

Then you were soaring.

Up in a straight line, past Neytiri and him. Tsaheylu clearly made as the ikran listened to your orders.

There was a blinding grin on your face as you soared, clearly looking for him and letting out a whoop.

The moment your eyes caught his, Jake felt his grin slip.

Your eyes, open just moments before suddenly rolled back. Your whole body went slack as you fell over the side, your newly bonded ikran screeching at the sudden weightless feeling as the bond broke and your body went straight down.

Jake hadn’t heard his desperate yell, this time diving down without stopping.

He thought you were dead when he managed to catch you and flew back up, only to have Neytiri meet him in the air on her own mount, an expression so clearly in distress. Without a word, they both made haste back to the village, your newly bonded ikran following closely behind.

“How is she?” His voice sounded like it had gone over fifty years of smoking with no water. It felt like his whole body was weighed down with stones.

“She’s alive,” that’s all that Max could offer with a grim expression. “She will need surgery. The momentum of her slamming repeatedly against stones with the ikran’s weight on top has managed to collapse a lung.”

Jake had never wanted to sob like a newborn baby until now. But he needed to remain calm, or at least sane. For Neytiri’s sake, and your siblings.

“Usually surgeries like these lead to long-term conditions in life, but we’re certain that with the Na’vi biology she will heal just fine without complications. But it’s the healing that will take time.”

He was nodding along, but it felt like he was far away. Only hearing a slight inconsistent sound in his ears as he watched through the see-through glass into the room where you were all connected up to tubes and an oxygen mask.

It was so human, the whole situation of you being in a hospital bed for avatars - Jake wanted to laugh. Not in humor, but maybe in slight delusion at the situation.

“Okay, okay…” he swallowed. “Anything else?”

His human friend was taking pity on him, Jake knew.

Max has been there since the beginning. Seeing Jake growing his own family and now being placed in this position. “Besides the broken wrist and strained ankle, it’s mostly cuts and bruises. So she will have to wear a brace as well as remain seated for the next week or so. And check-ups every three days.“

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jake croaked. “When’s the surgery?”

“As soon as possible.”

Another nod. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course.”

He had to nearly pry Netytiri away from you as she snarled protectively. But he had to explain that she couldn’t join in on the surgery due to contamination concerns. The whole room had to be fixed to match that of a Na’vi body, the surgeons wearing oxygen masks as the space was filled with Pandora’s toxic air for your sake.

It was an open lung surgery, Jake had been told. A risky procedure even on earth. It had taken four hours. Four hours full of anxiety and fear.

But you had pulled through, Max said, Norm closely behind with a relieved teary smile himself. The man was like another uncle to the kids despite his avatar form. He had watched their ceremonies, rites and connections to Eywa. So to Norm, this was just like a family member to him.

You had slept for a full day and a half after the surgery, still confined to the avatar hospital room before your eyes had fluttered open with difficulty. A cough erupted followed by your painful whine at the action.

Netytiri had hushed you gently, crouching down and stroking your hair back. Fresh tears fell at seeing you conscious again after so long, sobs breaking out as you flashed a sleepy smile at her.

Neytiri had felt like Eywa had pulled the entirety of Pandora away from underneath her feet during the hours of your examination and surgery. Clutching Jake to her and never wanting to let go as her oldest baby was at the mercy of nature and your own will to live through.

But she knew.

You were strong. You always had been. And you had fought.

Neytiri had never imagined a day when one of her biggest nightmares nearly came to pass.

To lose one of her children.

She would rather throw herself off the highest point on Ayram alusìng than lose one of her precious babies before their time. She believed in Eywa with her whole heart and soul and knew their beings were only borrowed and one day had to be returned.

But Eywa would not take her children away from her until Neytiri herself agreed.

Until that time, she would do anything to protect them. But to have it happen during one of their most treasured rites in life had prevented her from doing many things.

Interfering for once. Because you had said so before as if knowing how horribly wrong it could go.

“Do not stop me, mama. I can do this on my own.”

Of course, you could. And you did.

Despite having to brush the doors to Eywa’s home yourself to succeed.

And as your parents carefully helped you back home to the village after five days of observation at Hell’s Gate after your surgery, you couldn’t help but snicker despite the stabs of pain.

Your mom had admonished you gently to not aggravate your wounds. Whereas your dad held back the roll of his eyes with amusement tickling the sides of his mouth.

“Why are you laughing, flower?”

Your grin was shit-eating as you looked up at him.

“My iknimaya was so much cooler than Toruk Makto’s.”

“You little skxawng.”

I feel like I lowkey pulled this one out of my ass, but oh well.

taglist: @nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029 @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs @melllinaa @sugarmummystuff6 @lovekeeho @hai-kbai

#avatar #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #sully family #sully family x reader #jake sully x reader #dad jake sully #jake sully imagine #jake sully x daughter #mom neytiri #neytiri x you #neytiri x daughter!reader #sully reader #sully daughter

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irukasito · 2 months ago

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the most attracted iruka’s ever been to kakashi is when he, during his term as hokage, digitizes everything in the village from employee IDs to fortifying security/access to different parts of government buildings to computers in every department and software to help streamline the mission assignment and report process to gps trackers/SOS signals for shinobi in the field, etc

+ kakashi absolutely plays into it

#saw kakashi typing on his little laptop and couldn’t stop thinking about how he dragged the village out of the dark ages #iruka loves a competent man!#kkir #kakairu

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ninibeingdelulu · 7 months ago

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Seeing you comforting a child…

ft. leon kennedy, cloud strife

Leon Kennedy would never dare admit it openly, but the stoic, badass exterior melted away ever so slightly at the sight of you tenderly comforting a lost child.

That time in the ransacked village, when the haunting wails of a youngster pierced the air amidst the carnage - Leon instinctively tensed, jaw setting grimly as his grip tightened on his rifle.

But then he spotted you already racing ahead unhesitatingly. Dropping to one knee, arms outstretched in a gentle beckoning posture as the little one startled then sprinted straight into your protective embrace.

Your soothing tones murmured comforting assurances while cradling their trembling form close against you. Fingers carding soothingly through tangled hair with the utmost tender care.

And Leon couldn't tear his widened eyes away from the tenderhearted display. Throat constricting over the unexpected lump suddenly materializing there.

That million-watt smile radiating from your features as you rocked them patiently until whimpering quieted was like the first vibrant blossom peeking through the ash after a nuclear winter.

An oasis of affectionate nurturing shining through the oppressive bleakness suffocating them both for far too painfully long.

Leon found his calloused finger-pads unconsciously drifting up to caress his own chapped lips as if wishing to physically absorb the tranquil serenity you effortlessly exuded.

Eyelids momentarily fluttering closed while permitting himself to just bask in the warmth emanating from your very presence like a soothing balm against all the harrowing darkness poisoning them both.

A tremulous sigh escaped between those parted lips as the barest ghost of a smile tugged at their corners for the first time in...Christ, had it really been years since he last felt anything even remotely resembling that fleeting glimmer of unguarded optimism blossoming in his chest?

The peaceful tableau you presented with the now-placid child tucked securely in your arms struck Leon deeper than any physical combat wound ever could.

Worming past every steel-plated layer of defenses, countermeasures and failsafes, straight down into the most vulnerable core of his humanity he'd sworn died an agonizing death ages ago.

It terrified yet entranced him in equal measure just drinking in the serene display. Eventually those narrowed steel-blue irises regained some of their piercing guardedness while surreptitiously cataloging every nuance etched upon your expressions and ministrations.

As if desperately searing the moment into his consciousness to be revisited and clung onto later through whatever hell awaited them next.

Thank Christ for your influence and the inexplicable balm it provided against the miasma of torment clouding Leon's withered soul more with every passing abyss they navigated together...

The uncompromising mask remained solidly affixed in place by the time you finally lifted your eyes to meet his guarded gaze, the child nestled peacefully into the crook of your neck.

Not a single flicker of that momentary softness penetrated the hauntingly chiseled granite of his features now.

Yet behind that shuttered and fortified thousand-yard stare, the barest ember pulsed with renewed tenacity suffusing Leon's frigid disposition with almost undetectable glimmers of warmth.

All because of your natural radiance and selfless compassion reminding him why they fought on through each grueling gauntlet.

Sure he'd never verbalize sentiments that unbearably raw and guileless aloud. But that infinitesimal spark continuing to miraculously smolder despite all efforts to smother it was enough to propel them onward through any escalating onslaught yet to come.

This time with a renewed fervor steeling Leon's adamantine determination from the inside out.

The desolate, mako-tainted wastes proved no place for a child's cries. Yet the haunting echoes still pierced straight through Cloud's calloused defenses when tiny lungs unleashed their heartrending wails upon the barren landscape.

His gloved grip instinctively clenched tighter around the battered Buster Sword's hilt, jaw tensing as those predatory ice-blue irises immediately snapped towards the source of the disturbance.

Fully prepared for whatever fresh horror emerged after the merc caught fleeting movement through his peripherals.

But the cautious sweep revealed only your slender form already hastening ahead. Moving with fluid grace directly towards the sobbing bundle tucked against a crumbling wall.

His firm chapped lips tightened into a grim line witnessing you unhesitatingly drop to one knee before the distressed child without any apparent armaments at the ready.

From this distance, Cloud glimpsed your gentle features soften with bottomless compassion wholly separate from the usual battlefield ferocity.

Small hands unfurled in placating gestures exuding profound warmth and sincerity instantly easing some of the fractures riddling his own battered soul simply by proximity.

While you deftly coaxed the tiny thing into your embrace with susurrant tones and infinitely patient ministrations, Cloud suddenly found himself robbed of breath altogether.

Those glacial spheres wide and stunned at the exquisitely tender vision you presented cradling their fragility so reverently. A profound ache lodged behind his breastbone at the maternal aura emanating from your whole being.

He swallowed convulsively over the sandpaper abrasions rasping along his windpipe.

Gloved fingers betraying the slightest tremor disturbing his usual uncompromising stoicism while still drinking in every indelible detail of the intimate scene unraveling.

From the tender flickering caresses smoothed across tangled russet locks to your honeyed vocals humming soothing melodies of consolation.

All suffusing the stale, mako-saturated atmosphere with vibrant healing essences Cloud found himself instinctively gravitating closer towards.

Feather-light brushes scritched lovingly along the whimpering child's back forming hypnotic ellipses mirroring your unguarded smile radiating all-encompassing warmth across those cherubic cheeks now drenched in tear tracks.

Until finally after an eternity, the miniature form stilled in your arms. Body unlocking from its terrified rigor mortis into the very picture of youthful tranquility tucked securely against your heartbeat.

Cloud hadn't even realized he'd been holding his own respiration captive until the soft sigh expelled in a shuddering rush between lax lips.

A full-bodied flinch rattled his broad shoulders at its sudden harsh volume intruding upon the sacred tableau before him.

But thankfully, your features remained beautifully serene, wholly undisturbed while continuing to rock the now-quieted bundle in gentle rhythms.

Only then did molten sapphire pools drift up to lock with his widened stare burning with intensity across the slender lacuna separating you. A tremor not wholly attributable to anxiety skittered down his whip-cord musculature watching your radiant smile intensify directed solely towards Cloud.

As if silently communicating your infinite gratitude for him bearing witness to such an intimate and precious moment blossoming in this scorched hellscape...

Whatever parched recesses comprising the haunted mercenary's core still retained the capacity for absorbing nurturing warmth - it suddenly flooded within the confines of his barrel chest when those infinitely compassionate irises shone their benediction upon him.

Unknotting every rigid sinew and ligament hardened into a battle-tempered carapace purely through the power of your tender, life-affirming essence.

Almost imperceptibly, Cloud's chapped lips softened around the faintest half-curved suggestions budding there.

Posture unconsciously opening to welcome your pure light into his long-shadowed world while holding your loving gaze in mesmerized thrall.

As if determined to thoroughly archive this oasis of serenity and unconditional love in his consciousness so it may fortify whatever grueling battles destiny demanded they wage next.

Then in a single blink and a slight dip of your chin, the spell abruptly dissolved back into hyper-vigilance.

Yet even with the mercenary's legendary ice reformed across those exquisite Nordic features, perpetually braced for the next onslaught - a spark continued flickering in the hooded caverns of his stare.

A faint ember of something intangible yet transcendent now eternally kindled behind his armored exterior.

All because you'd reminded Cloud one of his most precious intangible dreams had been manifested into cherished reality...even under the most desolate conditions.

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theauthorandtheartist · 3 months ago

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I was bored, so I spent about an hour in TOTK going around to places that reminded me of the chain and leaving "offerings" for them like I was Wild newly returned from his quest.

Time - He was the first one I did, so his is the least elaborate. I put a silent princess on the broken table in the ranch ruins.

Twilight - a silent princess and a goat butter on top of the arch at the entrance to arbiter's grounds.

Sky - A silent princess, a swift violet, and a fortified pumpkin at the base of the (upright) goddess statue in the forgotten temple. I also thought of putting them on the great sky island, but I thought this was better.

Legend - a silent princess, an apple, and a golden apple next to the cherry blossom in the blupee burrow. Also thought of Eventide island, but I figured the site of his greatest trauma wouldn't be the best place for "wild" to honor him.

Four - a pristine soldier's claymore, a ruby rod, a black hinox hammer, a royal guard's bow, and a silent princess at the top of a hill (the one with the korok pinwheel) in the Minshi woods.

Hyrule - a silent princess and a fairy in front of the Great Fairy Tera's fountain. I also considered on top of one of the labyrinths because Zelda 1 had a lot of those, but I decided against it for similar reasons to Legend and Eventide.

Wind - a silent princess, a bomb flower, and a pristine boomerang dropped into the (saved and rebuilt) lurelin village bay.

Warriors - a silent princess and a pristine soldier's broadsword at the fountain in the castle town ruins. I thought of doing it in Hyrule castle, but I haven't beat the game yet so it's still covered in malice/gloom.

I am no longer bored, but now I'm sad.

#linkeduniverse #legend of zelda #lu legend #lu #lu sky #lu four #lu green #lu vio #lu blue #lu red #lu time #lu twilight #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu warriors #tears of the kingdom

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doumadono · 1 year ago

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THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME REQUEST can you do mizu x reader smut but where she calls reader a brat somewhere in the mix that scene jst had me head over heels 😭🙏

Warnings: smut - fingering, 69, rough oral, overstimulation, fem!Reader

Synopsis: you and Mizu enjoy some steamy moments together, having grown deeply fond of each other

OTHER FANDOMS MASTERLIST

Mizu's days were consumed by the relentless pursuit of her quest for vengeance, her every waking moment dedicated to honing her skills as a swordmaster. The path she tread was a solitary one, until a chance encounter changed the course of her journey.

It was on a misty morning in a secluded training ground nestled among ancient cherry blossoms that Mizu first crossed blades with you, a skilled swordswoman with a spirit as fierce as her own.

Your meeting was a clash of steel and determination, the air buzzing with the intensity of their training.

Mizu, her blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of determination and surprise, locked eyes with you after a particularly fierce exchange. "You fight well," Mizu acknowledged, a rare compliment from the stoic warrior.

You, your gaze unwavering, replied with a smirk, "Not bad yourself. But I've seen the fire in your eyes. There's more to your story than the strikes of a sword. Care to share?"

Mizu hesitated, her guard momentarily dropping. The pain of her past flickered in her eyes before she composed herself. "I seek revenge for a great injustice. That's it, nothing more, nothing less. My blade is my only companion on this path."

You nodded understandingly. "Well, it doesn't hurt to have a sparring partner on such a lonely journey. How about we help each other? I can see the weight you carry, and I've got my own demons to face."

From that day forward, your and Mizu's training sessions became a harmonious dance of steel and camaraderie. In the quiet moments between strikes, you shared stories of your pasts, creating a bond that transcended the limits of your swords.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the cherry blossoms, Mizu spoke thoughtfully, "I never thought I'd find a companion on this path. You've made the journey less lonely, Y/N."

You smiled, twirling your sword skillfully, hiding it in a scabbard. "Likewise, Mizu. We're stronger together. And vengeance is a heavy burden; it's easier to carry when you're not alone."

As the weeks passed, Mizu and you journeyed together through diverse landscapes, your paths entwined in a tapestry of shared experiences. What started as a companionship forged in the crucible of training gradually evolved into a deep and genuine fondness for each other.

The road you traveled was not just a physical journey but a shared odyssey of emotions and revelations. In the quiet moments beneath starlit skies and during the challenges you faced side by side, a connection grew, fortified by the understanding that only time and shared trials could foster.

Mizu, with her unwavering spirit, became not just a fellow warrior but a cherished presence in your own journey.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a soft glow over Mizu and you as you sat by a crackling campfire. The dancing flames mirrored the flickering emotions in Mizu's blue eyes as she turned to her companion. "Y/N," Mizu began, her voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability, "we've shared so much, but I've never asked about the demons that haunt you. What burdens do you carry?"

The air grew heavy with the unspoken weight of the past as Mizu waited for you to open up.

The flames flickered, casting shadows on your face as memories resurfaced. "I come from a village that was razed to the ground by marauders. I lost my family, my home. The flames took everything. That's why I picked up the sword, Mizu. I wanted to be strong, to never feel that powerless again."

Mizu listened intently, sensing the weight of your words. She understood well. As you spoke, memories of the burning hut flashed before Mizu's eyes, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine.

Despite your efforts to maintain composure, a tear traced a silent path down your cheek, glistening in the firelight.

Mizu reached out, gently wiping away the tear with her thumb. "You've carried this burden alone for too long," she whispered. "You're not alone anymore."

Trembling, you nodded, a mixture of gratitude and relief in your eyes.

Mizu pulled you into a comforting embrace, and for a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound in the still night as you shared the weight of your sorrows.

You shivered at Mizu's touch. You wanted to lean in and feel Mizu's arms around you oh so badly.

Mizu shook her head. "It's the past, Y/N. And from now on, I'll be protecting you. I'll be by your side."

"You… you'd actually want to be seen with me?" you uttered in astonishment, your gaze fixed on Mizu. "But why? I'm not exactly a sight to behold, and you're so stunning… People might ridicule you for choosing to be with someone like me…"

Mizu chuckled softly, a gentle sound that resonated with warmth. She looked you in the eyes, her ice blue ones stern. "You know," she began, her eyes softening, "I don't see myself as a pretty woman. Beauty is subjective, and in my eyes, you shine in a way that captivates me. Your uniqueness, the way you carry yourself — it's incredibly appealing to me. I see you as someone with a beauty that goes far beyond what meets the eye."

The heat built between your legs. Your nipples strained against the fabric, yearning for connection, as the allure of those soft, ripe lips of hers enticed you. The closeness felt magnetic, and the desire to kiss overwhelmed you. Yet, instead, a deep blush crept across your cheeks, and you looked away, your emotions entangled in a web of confusion.

Mizu gently tilted your face up, leaning in as her lips brushed softly over yours, capturing the taste of salt from recent tears. A soft moan escaped your lips as Mizu drew you closer, fulfilling a secret daydream of yours.

Uncharacteristically eager, Mizu allowed her desires to guide her actions. Her hands explored beneath your attire, caressing your breasts, as the anticipation of pleasure hung thick in the air. With deliberate intent, she undid the ribbon at the back of your garment, letting it slip off your shoulders. Her hungry gaze lingered on your firm, ripe breasts, and Mizu, unable to resist the temptation, lowered her head to eagerly suckle on a taut nipple.

You let out a quiet moan and arched your back and moaned, tangling your fingers in the black tresses that now cascaded over you.

Mizu worshipped your breasts, taking turns licking, sucking and nibbling the nipples in turn, humming quietly as she did.

You pulled back, eyes glowing with passion. "Please, let me taste you, Mizu…"

Mizu grinned playfully and gracefully rose to her feet, treating her new lover to a tantalizing strip tease.

In absolute awe, you observed every move, your body pulsating with desire as she shed her clothes.

Mizu reclined on the futon beside the fireplace, her legs invitingly parted.

Feeling a mix of anticipation and hesitation, you undressed, eventually finding yourself kneeling between Mizu's open legs.

A moan escaped Mizu as she took in the full, lush view of your body. "Oh, Y/N, you are so beautiful," she whispered, the words hanging in the air, deepening the intimacy of the moment.

You spoke not a word. Your touch was the language, as you tenderly caressed Mizu's wetness, delicately parting the folds like the petals of a dew-kissed flower. Your mouth descended upon Mizu's throbbing clit, moving languidly, intoxicated by the explosion of her taste on your eager, flexed tongue.

Mizu responded with fervent writhing and moans, her body arching to bring her wetness even closer to your exploring mouth. With a graceful shift, she positioned herself to reciprocate, her command cutting through the stillness. "Sit on my face," Mizu directed, the bold request hanging in the air, a testament to the unspoken connection that unfolded between you.

Your attention remained solely on savoring her cunt, rendering you momentarily unresponsive to her command. You lapped at her wetness with your tongue, a low moan escaping as her juices cascaded over your taste buds. Sucking on your fingers to heighten the intensity, you skillfully slipped them into her, moving with a swift rhythm that reflected the urgency of your desire.

Her inner walls responded with spasmodic contractions, eagerly clenching around your digits. Mizu huffed with a tinge of frustration and seized a handful of your hair, giving it a gentle tug. "Come on, Y/N, don't be a brat. I asked for something, and I expect you to comply."

Responding with a small kiss to her entrance, you gazed up at her, your lips wet with her jucies, nodding in acknowledgment. Gradually, you positioned yourself, placing both knees on either side of her head, and descended onto her face. Leaning forward, you resumed your passionate exploration of her slick folds with your tongue.

Mizu let out a sultry moan as she felt your lips enveloping her clit yet again, your gentle suction drawing it into the warmth of your mouth. Her gaze wandered to your pussy right in front of her eyes, captivated by the sight of your pouty lips and the glistening juices there. With a bold move, she slid a skilled finger inside you, caressing tenderly, teasingly. Her expert tongue flickered around your clit, leaving you breathless and panting.

In response, you cried out her name, initiating a dance of desire as you pressed two fingers inside Mizu's pussy. Your skilled suction on her clit mirrored the tormenting rhythm of your fingers and occassional rubbing of your thumb against her already swollen clit.

Mizu's tongue glided slowly over your clit, dipping into your slit with a probing and searching motion; its tip constantly hitting your little bundle of nerves.

You moaned in response, enticing her with the movement of your hips, shaking your ass to amplify the friction and intensify the pleasure. "More, Mizu, holy shit!"

You luxuriated in that position for what felt like endless, blissful minutes, indulging in the intimate exchange as you both savored the taste of each other's pussies.

Mizu propped herself up on one elbow, her other hand gently parting the lips of your pussy. With tenderness, she licked you, the tip of her tongue tracing either side of your clit, humming appreciatively at the delightful taste.

Your hands reached up around her ass, pulling her cheeks apart as you wholeheartedly massaged her cunt with your mouth. In the height of pleasure, your actions were instinctual, allowing the waves of ecstasy to roll through you, leaing you moaning like a whore. Your tongue and jaws moved in perfect reaction, each dart of her tongue into you provoking a corresponding spasm of pleasure in your own mouth.

Together, you both writhed in ecstasy, voices merging in a passionate chorus of moans that echoed the intensity of your shared passion.

Releasing your hold on Mizu's ass, you wrapped your arms around her waist, drawing her core closer to your face. Playfully pushing her to the side, both of you shared a moment of giggles, eventually settling on your sides, maintaining the 69 position.

The sensations were nothing short of incredible. Mizu squirmed with delight, her tongue delving deep to partake in your drenched cunny, creating ripples of passion that surged throughout your body.

Unable to contain yourself, you cried out, "M-Mizu!!!" as her quick, skillful licks over your swollen clit sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your entire being, leaving your legs shaking. "I-I, God! T-Too much!!! Oh God, I can't!!!" you whined again, arching your back, trying to grind your pussy against her face for more friction.

She gently spanked your ass a few times. "Shush, you little, horny brat," the black-haired woman grunted lowly. "Let me have my fun with you."

You extended your arm between her legs, skillfully opening her wide, allowing one leg to hover tantalizingly over you. With your other hand deftly maneuvering between the two of you, you spread her pussy open even more.

Her head shifted against your inner thigh, repurposed as a comfortable pillow in the midst of this intimate exchange.

Your face was fully immersed in the warmth of her pussy, while she reciprocated with her face pressed into yours. In a passionate exchange, you both moved and thrust against each other, building up a frenzied rhythm that heightened the intensity of the moment.

Mizu's primal grunts mixed with your fervent whimpers, the symphony of your pleasure rising in frequency and pitch. In the midst of waves and layers of ecstasy, you both reached the climax together, as one. The culmination was so profound, so all-encompassing, as you came intensely, repeatedly, in a cascade of bliss. A deluge of intoxicating girl-cum cascaded over your mouths and faces, seamlessly blending with the ongoing grinding and spasms.

"Oh, you dirty, little brat, you're gonna be a death of me one day," Mizu playfully nibbled on your clit, making you whine pathetically.

Gradually, the sweet and gentle descent from the peak began. Your passion waned, bodies winding down, experiencing little aftershocks of orgasm like sparks in your muscles. Rolling backward, you and Mizu separated, lying prone on your backs, side by side, heads to toes, in a shared moment of tranquil aftermath, breathig heavily.

Soon Mizu, holding you with a newfound protectiveness, traced gentle strokes through your Y/H/C hair and whispered softly, "Did I make you feel good?"

Nestled against Mizu like a contented kitten, you looked up with a happy smile. "Yes… It was perfect."

A tender kiss on your temple followed as Mizu yawned heavily. "I think I fell in love with you… We've shared so much, and being close to you felt so good, so right, as if something just clicked together."

"Indeed," you whispered in agreement, resting your head on Mizu's breasts, eyes slipping closed. The surreal feeling of it all being real overwhelmed you. Sleep embraced you, and this time, there were no dreams; there was no need, as everything you had recently dreamt about was already cradled in your arms.

895 notes · View notes