#he can barely fit all that ass in the armour of fate

[wolf-tail]

🔥🚨40K TUMBLR I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT🚨🔥

*ahem*

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN HAS A FAT JUICY ASS

IT IS SOFT, PLUSH, AND ROUND

IF YOU SLAP IT IT JIGGLES

IT IS NO MERE CAKE, THAT THING IS THE ENTIRE BAKERY

[yoditorian]

lacuna- part 6

din/reader

once again i left my writing down to the wire and did the bulk of this today so that’s why its Like That, as always a huge thank you to my wonderful @brothersdrxke for being my favourite sounding board and reminding me i am capable 

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swears, violence/death/murder, reader has a panic attack if you squint (not specifically mentioned and only referred to in one sentence), angst and arguments, we got a little more explicit with the smut this time (with added biting), 18+ no babies thanks

Nevarro’s cantina is always dusty. Something that’s struck Din as odd for as long as he’s been meeting Guild reps there, since the planet itself is all humidity and sulfur.

“You know, I’ve never met a hunter quite as efficient as you are.” Karga smiles warmly, but there’s something about his tone that makes Din’s skin crawl. The way he drawls out ‘efficient’ makes him wonder if he means something else. He hopes he doesn’t get asked anymore questions.

A set of new pucks slide across the table towards him, and Din pockets all five of them without even really looking. An amateur move, one he knows better than, but the longer he stays under the new Guild rep’s piercing stare the more he feels like he’s being studied.

“They’re of your usual calibre.” Karga reassures him as he stands to leave, not fool enough to try and palm off any jobs that nobody else will do.

Though the pucks are heavy in his pocket, you’re the only thing on Din’s mind when he steps into the shadow of the Razor Crest. You always are. He sees you everywhere, welding the outer panels together, meticulously painting the orange stripes “because they’ll look cool, Mando.” He sees you every time he has to rewire the internal electrics, that smudge of engine grease that seemed to be a permanent resident on your cheekbone back at the space station, or with the top half of your body wedged in a wall panel and your ass in the air.

The memories of you building the ship used to make him smile even after the worst jobs. Now they just make his hands shake.

You’ve been haunting him more than usual. Every time he turns around in the ship he calls his home, it’s like he expects to see you tinkering with something in the hull or staring up at the stars from the pilot seat with your feet up on the console. Something the others in the crew used to scold you for, but never him. It was endearing, to see you so at home in control of a ship. Any ship. Like you could speak their language.

Din knows it’s because he hasn’t heard from you since you told him you survived. Not that he really expected you to after he didn’t respond.

He almost did, he wanted to. He stares at the comm for hours at night, turning the stupid little thing over in his hands like it holds the secrets to the universe. Maybe it does. Maybe if he had the guts to say something, to say anything, to you. Or maybe he already knows the secrets of the universe, the one that matters to him anyway, and he’s just too afraid to think about it. He doesn’t contact you, he can’t contact you. Not when he knows exactly what it is he wants to say. It’s unfair to the both of you to speak it out loud.

He’s pretty sure you already know anyway. He doesn’t need to say it, maybe he never did. Maybe you’ve always known. How could you not? He’s never been soft like this with anyone the way he has with you. He’s never made so much space in his heart for somebody else. There’s no way you can’t tell. He feels so much for you, so much, there’s hardly any room inside left for him. It must be so obvious. And if he had any control when it comes to you, he could pretend like you don’t make him want to claw out his own heart and hand it to you. It’s yours anyway.

But Din compartmentalises, the way he always has. He takes a deep breath and packs every thought of you back into the box and stows it firmly away in the back of his mind. There will be time to miss you later.

It’s the worst job he’s ever had. By far. This is one bounty he’s not sure he can bring in.

Cork Gyll’s smile is sickening when he sees Din standing in the doorway of his home. If you could even call it that. It’s more of a cave, with an improvised door of thin sheet metal and a badly constructed bed against the far wall. A small metal crate is tucked just underneath the bed frame, half concealed by a threadbare blanket. Not much else, not that Din was expecting much of anything. The dar’manda sits and regards him for a long moment.

“You were there, Beroya.” He spits the title out like it’s a dirty word. It probably is, in his mind. Din only nods.

He should stun him and cuff him and drag him back to the Crest to freeze. That’s what he should do. But it’s too intriguing. Their situations are too similar. Din can’t help himself.

“Why did you do it?” 

Cork perks up at that. Like he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to at all, like he thought he’d just be dragged back to the noble family that ordered the bounty to atone for his crimes. Crimes Din doesn’t even know the extent of.

He loved her, is the first thing he recounts. A dreamy look in his eyes replaces the amusement at fate’s cruel blow. Is that the same look Din gets when he thinks of you?

He’d loved her to the point of removing his helmet, breaking the creed he’d followed all his life, for this daughter of some Outer Rim noble family he was running security for. Cork reddened at the memories of her fingers tracing his face when he bared himself to her the first time, the second time, and every time after that.

But his eyes grow dark suddenly, an odd coldness sweeps the room, and Din finds his hand inching ever closer to the blaster strapped to his hip. Just in case.

He’d proposed. Of course he had. She’d seen his face so many times and they loved each other and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, the guilt of breaking the creed had been at war with the space he’d made for her in his heart. But she’d said no. She had responsibilities to her family, to the son of another powerful family on the planet whom she’d been promised to before either of them were even born. She loved him, she loved him so much, but her answer was no.

Cork had panicked for his creed, her answer struck him so terribly in the chest that he hadn’t even registered that he’d drawn his blaster until there was a smoking hole between her eyes. Her beautiful eyes. But that was the way. No one alive had seen his face, and he’d been declared dar’manda anyway. He’d lost his love and his creed by his own foolish hand in the space of a few hours. And now? He’d likely be killed for it too.

The raw pain in Cork’s voice as he recalls what he did to his love is enough to make Din accept what he has known all this time to be true. He could never, would never, hurt you for anything. Not even the creed, he was a fool to think otherwise. No matter what it came down to. He’d take dar’manda over being responsible for your death. He’d take exile and disgrace and whatever else they dealt him if it meant he got to feel your skin on his. Your lips on his. No creed or vow or religion could ever bring him the solace that you do. Duty be damned.

Din moves silently across the room with the cuffs, something tells him Cork will go willingly.

He is so very, very wrong.

Part of his mind is still so absorbed in the story, in thoughts of you, that he notices Cork grabbing a heavy wrench just a second too late. It collides with the side of his helmet, taking out one of his auditory sensors and leaving his ears ringing. Cork takes the opportunity to strike once, twice, three times, at his chestplate in a vain attempt to wind him. He winds up for the helmet again, but Din throws himself onto his attacker before he gets the chance. While not graceful or calculated, it does the trick.

Cork laughs as he’s tackled to the floor, a horrible grating sound in his throat. Din doesn’t hesitate to pull his blaster and fire. The other man flops, lifeless, beneath him. The puck said taking him alive was preferable, but somehow Din’s not sure they’ll mind.

The wrench is still clasped in Cork’s hand, old and rusted but oddly familiar. A Mythosaur skull is carved into the base of the handle, and he knows. He must have taken it from the forge at the covert and stashed it before his exile, suspecting a bounty would be set on him. It’s no wonder the thing almost caved his helmet in. Din rips it off in the privacy of the room to inspect the damage, a dent the size of his fist in the right hand side and the auditory sensor is sparking. He’ll need a whole new one.

It’s as though the Armourer is expecting him, she never seems to be surprised by the state of some of the warriors who walk through her door. She simply directs him to a small curtained alcove and asks that he deposit his helmet on the shelf in the wall when he’s hidden.

“You should not regret it.” She speaks clearly, certainly, after he tells her how he sustained such damage. Din’s not sure he can agree with her this time around.

“He was a vod.”

“He was dar’manda. His crimes could never be forgiven. The vows you spoke for your creed no longer applied to him.” She places his new helmet, forged from the remains of his broken one, on the shelf for him to take. It’s been so long since he got a new piece, Din has forgotten how shiny beskar can be. His face stares back at him, distorted by the curve of the metal, for a moment before he finally puts it on. A perfect fit.

Green Squadron, you’re making your final approach.

It’s still kind of jarring to hear a droid coordinate the drop instead of one of the officers back on one of the rebel cruisers. Just something you’ll have to get used to, you suppose.

Three loud beeps sound from your dashboard and you flick the correct switches to drop out of hyperspace in perfect synchronisation with the rest of the team. The two cadets on this particular training session are a little shaky, but they come back into formation once they’ve reoriented. Until another ship appears out of nowhere, uncomfortably close to your left hand side. The squadron scatters, cadets panicking over the comms as your commander demands to know why it wasn’t caught on the sensors. You’re about to echo the sentiment, until you realise exactly why it’s not running a beacon.

“Green Leader, I know that ship. Request a line.” Your heart is in your throat the moment you spot the mismatched panels, the orange stripes you’d spent hours making sure were even.

“You know it? You’re sure, Four?”

“I built it! Put me on the line!” You don’t mean to snap the way you do, but the longer he stays in range the more danger everybody’s in.

Part of you expects a fight, expects your commander to doubt you, but it only takes another second for your comm light to flicker to life on the dash. You can only pray you can convince him to haul ass before the commander gets antsy and calls you to fire.

“Razor Crest, this is a New Republic drill. Please proceed to a safe distance from the training zone.” You want to tell him it’s good to see him, that he’s alive, but you’re all too aware that every one of the team can hear you. Best to stay professional.

The way your name echoes around the cockpit makes your stomach flip. His voice is soft, like he’s surprised it’s you, the tone barely appropriate for the kind of company you’re in. You don’t look forward to the questions you know will follow this session.

“Razor Crest,” You can’t keep the urgency at bay, “Please proceed to a safe distance or we will use force.”

Stars, you don’t want it to come to that. But the Crest is pre-empire, something you’ve noticed leaves any senior officer more than a little on edge. Hell, you would be too if you didn’t know who was at the helm.

“You’d shoot me down for the rebellion?”

“I would.” You answer immediately, because yes, yes you would. There’s no question. The same way that you’re sure, if it came to it, he’d kill you for his creed. Duty is a far more powerful thing than either of you.

Din sits on the comm silently for a long moment, as if he doesn’t believe you. Or maybe he’s- no. You stop that train of thought before it can even leave the station. He’s not shocked at your admission. He would do the same.

Green Squadron remains steady in formation, but a low order from your commander comes over the team system.

“Lock s-foils. Prepare to fire.”

“Mando!”

Din flies out of reach and on his way the second he registers the blind panic in your voice. It would be beautiful to watch the Crest arc through the stars if you weren’t so fucking terrified you were about to be ordered to pursue. But the order doesn’t come. Instead, Green Leader starts leading the cadets through drills, designating you and Shara to keep guard.

A private comm request appears on your display, and you accept without hesitation.

“So, Mando?” Shara doesn’t sound amused, or excited like she might have in any other situation. She sounds worried. Maybe she’s right to be, you’re still trying to remember how to breathe.

“Mando.” You confirm, but you leave it at that. She doesn’t pry. You’re thankful she doesn’t ask any more questions before you can do something really stupid like cry, or fly off after him.

You find yourself at the inn at Mos Espa as soon as the training run is over. Your commander can reprimand you for taking the A-Wing when you get back to base, a vague excuse about staying on top of your patrol duties has been ready on the tip of your tongue since the moment you decide on the detour. They could handle a few hours without you and your ship.

It’s unspoken, but somehow you know he’ll be there. And he is.

Perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed in your usual room, elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his fists. Just watching the door and waiting for you. There’s deep scratches in the red paint of his armour, chunks missing where it was intact before. He’s got a whole new helmet.

“Fuck, Din, what happened?” You wonder about the injuries underneath the metal. Whether there’ll be new scars to trace, freshly healed wounds to run your lips over in the moments after-

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“Don't use my name again. Ever.” Even with the modulator, you can hear him force the words through gritted teeth. He doesn’t sound angry, he sounds in pain. You’re only more confused as he stands and starts to shed the battered armour, giving way to sheer, blinding rage at the way he sets the pieces down on the table so reverently. Not unlike the way he handles you.

“So I can’t say your name but you’ll still fuck me. You’re gonna make me call you ‘Mando’, but you’ll still take off the helmet and kiss me?” Your hands shake at your sides. You’re so angry. You want him to reassure you, to backtrack and tell you he doesn’t mean it. Maybe you’re too used to the way he’s always been so ready to comfort you, to hold you and fit himself into the empty space in your ribs that you know is meant for him. Instead of the gentle words you’ve come to know from him, he only presents you with silence. Silence and anger on both sides, maybe misdirected, maybe not.

You’ve always respected his creed, his Way. But you’ve never had to like it.

In only his flight suit and helmet, Din stalks over to the doorway with one hand on the side of his helmet and plunges the room into darkness. You don’t hear him approach you, don’t even feel the air move until he’s standing chest to chest with you, lungs heaving. The Hunter. 

Your forehead bumps into the lifted lip of the helmet when his empty hand creeps up your back and pulls you by the neck into a bruising kiss, although he’s quick to send the thing crashing to the floor and free up his other hand to grab at you.

“You don't,” He lifts your shirt over your head, “Know me.”

“No?” You reply, sinking your hand into his suit to squeeze him through his underwear. He growls, like he always does when you do that, and his mouth is hot on yours again. He has always known you, just as you have always known him. However reluctantly.

It’s a power struggle like you’ve never experienced with him. He’s pushing as you’re pulling and every touch is burning and biting, each determined to get your way. Somehow you don’t think there will be any winners tonight.

His every touch cuts you down to your bones, every drag of his fingers as he exposes more and more of you to the night threatens to tear you apart. You revel in the way he’s grabbing you, twisting and turning you just to his liking, and find you don’t miss the softness one bit. Not right now. Your blood still boils at how he’s stepped back from you, revoked the one thing of his you thought you had. Although maybe you never really had it in the first place. 

You don’t give in, you can’t. He’s got you pinned against the bed, smug smile pressed into your neck at your breathlessness, and you sink your teeth into his shoulder. He tastes like salt and metal and you lose yourself in the deep groan that rumbles through him.

Din’s sure you’re trying to break him and, honestly, you’re well on your way to succeeding. Taking him apart piece by piece and leaving him shattered for treating you the way he has. He deserves it. Although he’d argue this is certainly a humane way to exact your revenge. Every touch, every moan and squeal and bite, sends another crack spider webbing through his guard. He’s done pretending every time is the last time, you’ve settled so deep in his heart he’s not sure he could ever dig you out. 

It’s later, in the dark and quiet, when the anger and desperation has faded that you whisper.

“I know you better than I know myself.”

And for a moment, he can pretend that you’re right.

-

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@brothersdrxke @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me​

[maxrev]

A Little Hazy

I blame this absurdity entirely on @mallaidhsomo because of a meme. My boys, John Shepard and Kaidan from my Chance Meetings series who I’ve sadly neglected for way too long. 

John Shepard likes classic rock but sometimes, he doesn’t quite understand the words xD (hence, he’s now known as the Commander of Misheard Lyrics)

Kaidan stood in front of his locker removing each plate of his hard suit simply by muscle memory, too mentally and physically exhausted to put much effort into it. The thought of not cleaning it was inconceivable but he wasn’t sure he had the energy for more than wiping it down at best. 

To his right, he could hear Shepard toss the plates of his own armor inside his personal locker. Kaidan wrinkled his nose at the thought but was also surprised. Shepard was meticulous in everything he did, especially when it came to his armor and weapons. He must be tired as well. 

A shudder ran through him remembering the mission. In a mine, no less. Underground, with only one way out. 

Husks. The damn things had been everywhere. Knowing they had to have found what once were scientists who’d made an emergency transmission, then couldn’t be found, made it even worse. No, he reminded himself; they were no longer the scientists but instead mindless puppets controlled by some otherworldly force through some process he couldn't begin to wrap his head around. 

It had come down to the most basic of laws - kill or be killed. 

He shuddered again. 

“LT, your armor can wait. Grab a shower.” Shepard spoke up, having completed his task. 

Kaidan looked over...and wished he hadn’t. By this time, the commander had stripped down to the very form fitting under armor. Leaving nothing to the imagination, every muscle was on display, flexing and moving as he peeled it down his body. Swallowing thickly, he turned away before being caught ogling his superior.

Shepard chuckled, and Kaidan wondered briefly if he could read minds. “I know, I know. Breaking protocol by not cleaning it thoroughly right away but fuck it all, if I don’t wash this mission off my skin I won’t be responsible for my actions.” 

Wondering what those actions would be, Kaidan stowed his armor to clean later, knowing he'd be back after his shower, unable to let it go, and began to peel off his own under armour suit, which was no easy task as it felt glued to his skin. 

“Let me help, LT.” 

Kaidan glanced over to assure Shepard he could do it but all the saliva in his mouth dried up at the sight of his commander wearing nothing but briefs, a towel slung over his shoulder. He quickly looked away, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone say anything. Pretty sure he'd end up sounding like a babbling idiot. 

Shepard came up behind him, the heat from his body penetrating the skin tight armor. With deft skill, he grasped the armor and began to peel it down while Kaidan maneuvered himself to assist as much as possible. In no time at all, he was bending over pushing the rest down his legs. 

“Time for a nice, hot shower.” Shepard reached for the towel, which had fallen to the floor, giving Kaidan an unobstructed view. He stood up and turned to head to the elevator, slapping one of Kaidan's butt cheeks as he walked by. 

“See you in the showers!” He called back over his shoulder. 

Over in the corner, Ashley snickered. Kaidan was mortified. 

"I never knew telling the skipper about those football traditions between players on earth could provide so much entertainment!” A gleam of mischief in her eyes, she gave him a knowing smirk. 

While he struggled for a suitable comeback - and failed - she added with a wink, “Better hurry, LT, before he uses all the hot water.” 

Shaking his head, Kaidan grabbed his own towel and headed for the showers, wanting nothing more than for Shepard to be done and gone by the time he made it up there. 

Fate wasn't so kind. She must be on great terms with Ashley, intent on always getting one over on him. Shepard was currently soaping up, the outlines of his very fit body able to be seen even through the clouds of steam as they rose from the streams of water cascading down-- 

He turned away, stopping the thought immediately. As was typical for the commander, music blared from his Omni-tool. Some old school classic rock from earth, hundreds of years ago. 'They're classics' he'd told Kaidan and Ashley, the three of them somehow always finding each other in the mess. Since then, Kaidan had heard many of them over and over, finding himself humming or tapping his foot to the rhythm. 

The guitar wailed out into the room, a man’s voice singing something about a purple haze. 

Well, haze certainly fit from the steam of the shower, though Kaidan couldn’t say it was purple. Moving past Shepard quietly, he went to the last stall and turned the water on, a sigh slipping from his lips as the hot water hit his muscles and the sweat coating his body washed down the drain. 

Shepard sang along with the song softly but still loud enough to be heard over the dull roar of the streaming water. He had a pleasant singing voice and Kaidan loved to listen on the rare times he was privileged to catch it. 

Purple haze all in my brain

Lately, things just don't seem the same

Well, those lyrics certainly fit their lives as of late. Nothing had been the same since Eden Prime. He sometimes wondered if this all wasn’t just some crazy nightmare. 

He reached for the soap, fingers wrapping around the bar as Shepard sang the next couple lines of lyrics. 

Acting funny, but I don't know why

Excuse me while I kiss this guy

His fingers twitched as the words sank into his brain, the soap sliding through his grasp. Eyes widening in horror that it would fall and bounce loudly across the floor, Kaidan lunged for it with his other hand. It slipped through again, which then began the start of a weird dance as he struggled to grasp it over and over, only to have it dance out of his fingers every time. Finally, with a great amount of effort, he managed to grab hold of it without alerting Shepard. 

Had the commander said what he thought he’d said? It was only a song, right? Sure, he seemed a bit flirty and there was the time in the bookstore when they'd met. But that was before they knew who each other was. And before they were on the Normandy. Together. 

Well, not together together but...together. 

“I can see the smoke from here and it’s not from the steam, either. Overthinking again?”

Kaidan found himself doing the soap dance again, struggling for some kind of composure which was damn hard bare-ass naked, everything hanging out for his CO to see. Seriously, the floor could open up anytime now and drop him into space. Anything would be better than this!

Finally grabbing hold of the soap again, Kaidan took a breath, swallowed for good measure and said, “Just...a little shook up, I guess. I’m fine, Commander.”

A mumble of words came from behind him sounding suspiciously like ‘you sure as hell are’ but then there was a cough and Shepard spoke out loud, “Understandable. The mission was rough. Anyway, I’ll leave you to your shower. Make sure you get some calories when you're done.” 

“Aye, aye, sir.” 

He didn’t hear anything more and began to soap up in earnest, the water now lukewarm. 

“By the way, nice dance with the bar of soap. Should make it an act and take it on the road.” 

The soap slipped from his hand in surprise and this time, Kaidan didn’t bother trying to hang on to it, head falling forward against the wall in defeat.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Hi! I don't know if you ship it (if not, feel free to ignore), but could you do something with Link x Mipha? Thanks!!

Ok so, I was going to write a nice fluffy confession scene with Link and Mipha, but that just got my wheels turning about how Mipha crafted the armour. And that turned into how I thought she got the materials she need to make it. And that turned into a cool flashback scene, and that turned into me wanting to make Mipha bad ass... and that turned into me wanting to give her compelling character growth. Ok I’m basically saying that this whole oneshot is about Mipha. It’s still based on the Mipha/Link ship, buuuut this is just a long winded way of me saying Link isn’t really in this one. So...sorry? Maybe in the future I’ll finish the fluffy confession scene, but for now, enjoy this! (Cause I really love how it turned out)

At Bay

Miphlink  5459 words

Just as the sun was swallowed by the sea, she rose to watch the horizon. The last few rays of light shimmered like amber on the cool waters of Lanayru Bay. In a few moments, the whole ocean would be washed by the cold of night. Waves crashed against the ragged rocks, the white foam pooling near her ankles. The princess’ eyes were fixed on the sky, the sea breeze nipped at her face, causing her fins and jewelry to sway. It was a cloudless night, the stars seemed to twinkle restlessly in the air. The moon was nowhere to be seen, the bay only reflected the silent stars, and the flickering orange light from behind her. The sergeant probed the campfire with a stick, fiddling with the charred wood. Kneeling by its warmth, he looked up at her. “Your Highness, you need not sit so close to the shore. We don’t know what kind of monsters lurk in the sea at this hour.” Mipha turned her head back at him, a wry smile on her lips. “Don’t worry yourself, Seggin. I am quite skilled with my trident thanks to your teachings.” She patted her weapon that lay beside her, its metal clinked against the rocks at her touch. “Besides,” she returned her gaze to the sky. The summit of the snowy mountain divided the eventide with its presence. It seemed to rise beyond the heavens. “We should hope that one particular beast appears tonight.” 

Rising himself from the campfire, Sergeant Seggin walked and stood beside Mipha, who was crouched on the damp rocks. The towering figure of Mount Lanayru cloaked the bay, along with the surrounding trees, in a soft shadow. The evergreens rustled, and the familiar smell of the sea was carried through the air. A collection of loose pebbles crawled across the shore from the forces of water and wind. Shifting her bare feet, she could feel the smooth and rounded stones under her. 

It was not four hours ago, when Mipha and Seggin had swam through the Rutala River, and hiked across the Brynna Plains to get to their current point. While her father had known the true purpose of her trip, she had only told the Sergeant only the bare details necessary in order to get him to come. Afterall, a princess would never be allowed to do this all alone. Seggin set the hilt of his own spear against the ground, leaning his weight against it. He gazed at the sky along with her, although he was unsure of exactly what he should be looking for. “So this beast...er...spirit? Whatever you called it? You say you are not certain it will appear? How long should we expect to stay until we can reach a conclusive answer?”

Mipha’s eyes stayed fixed on the sky, searching for something that would complete the serene picture. “It is the spiritual form of a great goddess. If she should appear at all, it would help give confirmation...or more like a blessing, to a certain decision I must make.” The beauty of the night was laid out before them, but still, something was missing. After a beat she continued, “I should hope she should appear sometime tonight. They say she only rises just as the sun sets. However, if nothing changes by sunrise, we can return to the Domain immediately. I know you are always anxious about my wellbeing.” Mipha cast him another smile. That much was true, despite teaching her combat, the Sergeant, along with most of the royal staff, was always eager to have the princess safe in their company. Nonetheless, Seggin cocked a curious eyebrow. “Forgive me if it is not my place to pry, but the decision you speak of, what might it be?”

A silence fell once again. Telling him the full story would bring about a conversation she was not yet ready to have. She sighed. “I must...I wish to craft something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes...something very important to me.” Mipha looked at the ground, watching the foaming waves encircle her feet. “So, I must get a certain material from this spirit. Although, should she not appear, I shall take it as a sign that I must not pull through this...certain decision.”

Seggin narrowed his eyes. Though their dark complexion had often reflected the blur of war, he was still able to give a soft and kind gaze towards her. “For the sake of this decision, do you wish for this beast to appear?”

In the waters, Mipha watched her reflection. Her topaz eyes stared back at her, before being taken away by the tide.

“Yes.”

A silence returned once more between them. The crashing waves and whistling wind decorated the hours, with Seggin occasionally going back to feed the fire. The night continued to the point where both of the Zoras had leaned their tired weight against the large grey boulders across the rocky beach. The looming figure of Mount Lanayru continued, its shadow stretched across the bay. Mipha let out a sigh. One way or another, this night would decide her fate. And through the dark, she would see what the goddesses and spirits had planned for her future.

. . . . . 

The hours merged, and the stars drifted across the skies. Seggin had offered to stay up and keep watch, but after about three hours, he too let his heavy eyelids droop. Mipha continued to stare at the sky, leaning her head against the large boulder.

Thoughts swirled around in her head. Perhaps she would not show up at all, it’s said that only those of pure intention and honest hearts would ever be graced with the presence of such a spirit. Mipha fiddled with her bracelet, trying to keep herself awake. Maybe this was selfish of her, forgoing the Zora monarchy for the sake of love. Sure, her father had told her to follow her heart, but what about everyone else? Even if they were to be together, there would always be a stigma, for an interspecies couple. Would the other Zora hate her? For choosing a Hylian over her own people? What kind of queen could lead a people that despised her.

Mipha sighed.

If the goddesses decide that we are not meant to be, then I guess I’ll just have to accept that I was not the one meant to bring him happiness...

She closed her eyes, escaping to happier memories, trying to keep the anxieties at bay. Everything may be stacked against her, but she was going to try anyway, for the sake of the warm feeling in her stomach. For the chance to look at his kind blue eyes for the rest of her life. For her restless soul that longed to hold him through every tender and terrible moment.

Mipha could already picture him, wearing the armour along with a rare and fantastic smile. Link’s sky blue eyes would sparkle along with the silver scale that Mipha herself would place. He’d be adorned with the helm and greaves, that would allow him to be by her side through the calmest and roughest of oceans and waterfalls. And the chest piece, the true symbol of a Zora princess’ love, would fit him perfectly. Yes, a perfect embrace that would protect him wherever their travels may take them. A soft smile crept onto Mipha’s face.

She sighed again. The prickling of heartache seemed to run all throughout her body, from her feet to her fins. All of the sudden, the smile slipped off of her face. Mipha held up her arm, examining her fin. It had glossy sheen, melding from a warm, honey color to a more striking lapis accent. It was thin, as all fins were, for the sake of cutting swiftly and speedily through the waters. Despite this, it dangled motionless, even her jewelry hung still, barely swaying from the movement of her arm.

Wasn’t the wind so much stronger a minute ago?

Indeed, the breeze abruptly had calmed, and her fin no longer flapped in the wind. Something was off, a cold charge seemed to ripple in the air. A new energy coarsed through Mipha’s body as she once again looked out towards the waters. At the end of the Lanayru Bay, closer to the rocky mainland, the waves had started to recede. Their once strong and lively motions now summoned towards something at the innermost part of the bay. 

Mipha lifted her back off of the boulder, sitting up straight and observing the scene. And as if reacting to her movements, a sudden silence drowned the shore.

The winds stopped.

Then shifted.

Then rose.

A freezing air was washed over her, a strange hum filled bay. Getting on her feet, Mipha took up her trident cautiously. She searched the waters for whatever had moved the wind so suddenly. Perhaps a large octorok? A stray ice lizalfo cooling the breeze? She moved Seggin’s leg with the end of her trident. “Seggin, wake up. Something’s happening.” He let out a groan, mumbling something about never sleeping on duty. The princess turned towards the forest, scanning the trees for the snoring hinox that had made the evergreens shiver in the new wind. Or the frost talus that had made the temperature drop so quickly, she could start to see the breath in front of her face. But, there was nothing, and she turned back towards the sea, where the waves had started to move with new life. Mipha looked up. 

Suddenly, she gasped. The sound was as swift as a common breeze, but with the sentiment of a last breath. All words escaped her, as it pierced the heavens. It seemed to wear a crown of frost and ice, but its brilliant size and majesty alone would command the attention of any army. The waves reflected its silver and arctic glow. The winds rose, the waves began to roar, the stars settled, and the sky was complete.

“She’s here.”

Naydra, the spirit of ice, the being of wisdom, the sacred servant of the goddesses, moved through the air, lowering itself from the glittering skies and moving towards the waters below. Even in the distance, the dragon’s golden eyes seemed to stare into her soul. 

Mipha started to run towards the sea.

Seggin, who was jolted fully awake by her sudden movement, got onto his feet. “P-princess!?” Then, upon seeing the icy glow of a dragon in the distance, he stopped. A fear and silence gripped his throat, halting any attempts he made to move or speak. Still running towards the waters, Mipha turned back and shouted, “Just follow me! There’s no time to waste!” 

Racing on top of a large rock, she crouched, then launched her weight and momentum towards the sky. Performing a graceful flip, she dove headfirst into the waters. The ocean enveloped her in a familiar cool embrace. Then, Mipha broke her head above the surface and started to make her way towards the dragon, kicking and swimming with all her might. 

Naydra was closing in, drifting closer to Mipha with every passing moment. The way her long body steadily arched and curved, you would think they were going through nothing more than a leisurely stroll. Yet in reality, the dragon had traveled the length of one fourth of the bay in only a few minutes.  

Rapidly approaching her, Mipha could start to see the dragon’s reflection upon the water. It’s scales glowed like moonlight, emitting luminous blues and turquoise. The path of its flight was directly above the length of the bay, making its way towards the princess.

Mipha faced the spirit head on, checking the trident to make sure it was secure on her back. Then, she dove with incredible speed, letting the waters consume her. 

The porgys hurried away, finding refuge in the nooks and crannies of the reef. The small, red, bioluminescent scales on her head glowed as she neared the dark depths of the sea. Then, Mipha channeled her built up momentum and forced herself back towards the surface, rising like a bird. 

The water and droplets sprayed as she leaped, the freezing water dripping away as she was greeted by the cold air once more. At the arc of her breach, she quickly turned and faced upward. Mipha unhooked the Lightscale Trident. Aiming at the white scales that lined Naydra’s neck, she steadied her grip.

Naydra is here, which means there is still hope. Please, grant me your blessing.  

She thrust with all her might. The trident soared across the sky, twirling and shining like a star. The dragon drifted slowly, its eyes seemed to wander towards the flash of movement, observing the streak of white.

Crashing back into the bay with a splash, Mipha quickly blinked away the water and watched the trident's arc. It had reached the apex of its flight, nearly parallel with the dragon’s body. 

At any moment it would make contact, it would pry a scale off, she just knew it...

...but then, its speed faltered, its momentum weakened, and slowly, the trident arched back down towards the sea, having struck nothing. 

NO!

Naydra continued on her path, and the Lightscale Trident crashed into the open waters without a sound. The dragon was simply too high up, no spectacular dive, leap, or throw from these waters could get her where she needed to be.

Suddenly, Seggin breached the surface beside her. A swirl of worry and determination filled his eyes. “What are you doing?! Surely you don’t mean to kill it in order to get the material you need?”

“I-I need her scales, but she’s too high up! And my trident, it-it’s…” Mipha looked behind her, across the width of the bay to where it had sunk. That far out… the seafloor was probably much deeper over there. No, there was no time. She turned back towards him, almost frantic. “Seggin, you're a great swimmer, and you’ve taught me all I know, surely if you try you can strike the spirit, yes?”

Looking up at the beast, the Sergeant simply shook his head. “I’m sorry, your highness, but from these open waters, and at that angle? I’m afraid the Zora are not gifted with flight.”

Naydra’s presence drifted above them, the brilliant gleam of her scales now shone with a silent mocking. Was this really it? The spirits had decided to come, just to ridicule her desires? Just to tell her that it wasn’t meant to be?

Mipha let out a shaky breath. Watching the length of the dragon move across the night, she observed its path of flight once more. She let out another breath, more controlled this time. Naydra’s blue glow reminded Mipha of his eyes, and she found her resolve once more. Seggin watched her in silence for a moment. Then, he attempted to speak.

“Princess, if this is for—”

“Give me your spear.”

“P-pardon?”

“We can get my trident later, give me the spear.”

The Sergeant complied, removing his silver spear and handing it to her, but he shook his head.

“Mipha, you need to stop and focus. Neither of us have the strength to throw it that far up—”

“Talk and swim, Sergeant! Follow closely, we have to catch up.”

With that, Mipha began her journey down the course of the bay, following under the dragon’s shadow. Seggin followed on her left, but his face was still filled with worry and confusion. He attempted to open his mouth again, before Mipha held up a hand to shush him.

She spoke bluntly. “You have a strong grip, right Sergeant? You are capable of throwing many times your own weight, correct?”

The Sergeant frowned. Of course he could, he had handled great swords and claymores through the tides of several battles. When sparring with others, he could shove them aside easily. He wasn’t given the nickname “The Demon” for nothing. Mipha, whom he had personally trained with the trident, should know this most of all. Unless, she specifically wanted him to... 

“Are you saying I should—”

“Yes. So can you do it?”

He hardened his gaze. “Even if I did get you to a proper height, your own aim must be more than perfect, and the aerodynamics of my spear are different. I’m sorry to be harsh, but I don’t think you can make such a precise shot on your first try.”

“That’s why I’m not going to throw it this time,” Mipha replied, her eyes still fixed on the dragon in front of them. “You told me to focus, right? Well focus on her,” she nodded towards Naydra, “The path of her flight is nearing the base of Mount Lanayru. No doubt, she will eventually make her way up towards its peak, as the keeper of the Spring of Wisdom. However, she has slowly been angling herself closer to the waters ever since she first arrived. While I’m not entirely knowledgeable on how dragons fly, I can only assume that before they can rise to such a height, they must lower and dive themselves to build up energy, similar to how we dive and leap out of the sea. I can only hope she will be low enough for my plan.” The princess turned her gaze to him directly.

“You will launch me in mid-air where the bay meets the ocean, just near the base of Mount Lanayru. There, with that added height, Naydra should be close enough to meet head on, and I shall loosen her scales myself with a direct strike from this spear”

Seggin could only gawk at her, staring in a shocked silence. His dark scales blended with the night. Then, after he seemed to process the full extent of her words in his head, his eyes lit up curiously like stars. “You truly believe this shall work?”

Mipha turned her gaze back towards the bay, her topaz eyes brimmed with new fire and life. “We won’t know until we try.” 

The two of them focused their attention towards the ocean, now putting all their energy into getting to the end of the bay as fast as possible. Mipha snuck a glance up at the dragon, they were catching up. They were now below her front talons, the ice emitting from their scales started to cool on the edges of her jewelry. The princess smiled.

I’m not giving up on Link just yet. 

Finally, they approached the mouth of the bay. The shadow of Naydra’s crown spilled over their tiny figures. Seggin turned towards the princess. “This is it, are you ready?” Mipha looked up at the sky. The dragon’s snout was pointed towards the sea. She had thought correctly, it was much lower than before. However, they were barely ahead of the dragon, for no Zora could keep up with its legendary speed forever. It was now or never. 

She checked the spear on her back, making sure the clasp was secure. Mipha gave a nod towards Seggin, and they both plunged into the sea.

They dove in perfect unison. Colorful arrays of fish hurried away at their presence. The glow of Naydra seeped through the waters, a murky light that cut through the inky darkness. Seggin allowed himself to move in front of Mipha. They continued their dive through the waters, their bioluminescent scales leaving a blur of soft reds and turquoise. Suddenly, Seggin shot up, shifting his momentum towards the surface. Mipha followed suit behind him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, ready to burst at any moment. Trailing his stream of bubbles, Mipha watched as the Sergeant breached the surface above her. Just a few more seconds, and he would be at the apex of his arc, and then—

Mipha shot up like a cannon, spraying water through the air. She didn’t have time to enjoy the sensation, as she reached out instinctively. Her arm and hand extended, grabbing at something unseen. Water was still in her eyes, but the cold force of air pushed them away. Then, she felt it, the slight warmth of another Zora, and latched on. With an iron grip, she closed her hand around the blur of black scales. The two of them locked forearms, and in midair, Seggin flung her momentum further into the sky.

The frost was now biting, it formed distinctive lines that danced and crept the length of her jewelry. Taking the spear from her back, Mipha looked up, still soaring through the air. She was met with a golden gaze.

Naydra had started to crane its neck skyward, its crown reflecting the winking stars. The ice spirit seemed to sigh, and another breath of cold air escaped her. The creature’s eyes were as large as the sun, specks of amethyst and pearl decorated the beast’s face. Mipha didn’t dare to breathe.

The spiritual form of the goddess shifted its golden eyes, and smiled upon her.

Reaching the peak of her arc, Mipha turned her attention back to the spirit’s scales. They gleamed white, and sparkled like stars. They were so close, just a few more moments, just another instant, and she could reach out and touch them. Readying her spear, she started to turn her body, spinning through the air. She laughed to herself, about the unimaginable situation she was in. 

With a practiced and graceful spin, Mipha let out the last of her momentum in a swift slice of her spear.

At first, it seemed she had cut at nothing air…

Then, she felt it make contact. 

The scales were as tough as metal, but smooth like a polished stone. The spin of her attack has struck perfectly on the underside, and pried a large scale from the dragon. This time, her laugh fully escaped her, echoing in the air. The scale plummeted through the night sky, leaving a glimmering trail like a shooting star. It crashed into the sea, but floated in the water, which perfectly reflected the dragon's glow. Seeing Seggin start to make his way towards the scale, Mipha turned back towards the dragon, still falling through the air. Naydra was now ascending at a steep incline, all of its body seemed to glow with a new aura, as if sensing the loss of one of its sacred scales. Mipha smiled at the spirit.

Thank you…

Then, she turned back, and prepared to dive safely into the water

A large splash, and the princess returned to the bay once more. Breaching the surface, she let out large breaths, and rubbed at the cold biting on her wrist. 

Seggin made his way towards her, the large scale cradled in his arms. His mouth hung agape, he was at a loss for words. Mipha took the initiative to break the silence. “Here, your spear.”

Holding it out, Seggin took it with one of his arms, still careful to keep the scale from drifting away. The Sergeant let out a short laugh. “Your highness, that incredible move you performed, that spin attack? Wherever did you learn such a thing? It certainly wasn’t from me.”

A sudden blush formed on her face. Sinking into the water to hide it, she let out a little whisper. “Well, uh, just from a friend.” 

He nodded, “Well, it certainly got the job done.”

Quickly changing the conversation, Mipha asked, “May I hold it?” Seggin gave another nod, and pushed the scale across the water, making its way into Mipha’s grasp. The scale was cool to the touch. Running her hand down it, it was slick in one direction, but brushing it the opposite way revealed tinier bumps in the scale. They glowed white, but reflected a large assortment of bright colors at certain angles. Mipha smiled, it was perfect.

Seggin let out a forced cough, breaking through Mipha’s thoughts. She smiled. “Right, come now. Let us return to the shore”

. . . . . 

“So...you did it.”

Back at the shore, the sun had begun to rise, barely peeking above the ocean in the east. Seggin cast Mipha a warm smile. “I’m quite proud of what you’ve done today.” She returned his expression with a kind smile of her own. “I couldn’t have done this without you Seggin.”

She then went back to cleaning her Lightscale Trident. A few bits of seaweed were still tangled in its prongs, and wrapped around the hilt. Otherwise, it was mostly intact. The Sergeant gathered the last of the food and supplies littered about their campsite, before looking back at Mipha. He watched her tend to her weapon, sitting comfortably on the ground, with a small pile of seaweed at her side.

Finally, he decided this was as good a moment as any. Seggin sat in the grass with her. “So, who is the lucky guy?”

A sudden rush of red appeared on Mipha’s cheeks. “I, uh, I’m not sure I understa—”

He let out a scoff. “I suppose you picked me to accompany you since I didn’t pay the most attention to spiritual and ceremonial studies.” He shrugged his shoulder, “Which is entirely fair. A sergeant doesn’t improve his skills by listening to hour long sermons about the goddess all day.” 

Seeing Mipha’s confused face, he let out a huff and continued. “Although, even I know about the tradition of the white scale. You said you wished to craft something...when the dragon showed up... well, I’m no fool.”

He looked at her, Mipha’s shoulder’s loosened in realization that he knew. “You’re crafting the sacred ceremonial armour for a royal husband, requiring a silver scale that only females posses, and the scales of a dragon, for both bless the wearer with the safety of both a Zora’s affection and the protection from the goddesses.”

Mipha sighed, before letting herself look at him. “Please know I didn’t mean any harm keeping this from you! I never thought you were a fool, I simply… well I respect you as my teacher and such… so I thought…um… it would be better I didn’t say anything...cause it would be better if…”

“If I stayed silent and didn’t ask questions about why we were battling a giant ice spirit?”

Mipha let out a sheepish laugh. “I suppose…”

He scrunched his brows. “Although, I am still confused as to why you were so wary about telling me, princess. Are you embarrassed by him? Is he a noble? A servant?” Seggin scratched his chin.

“..hmm, or perhaps this Zora isn’t a him at all. Unconventional, sure, but having two queens wouldn’t be a real issue, at least for me. If that was your concern, please know—”

“No, no! I mean, thank you, but it’s not that… it’s…” Mipha let out a shaky breath, “I wish to give the armour to that knight, Link”

His expression seemed to instantly harden at his name

“That...Hylian? The one set to become a Champion simply because of that sword on his back?”

“Yes, I mean, I’ve known him since childhood and—”

“The one who put you in harm's way when you both fought the Ploymus Mountain Lynel alone?”

“He slayed the beast and helped people! And I was there of my own volition.”

“The one who refuses to talk? Choosing to speak with his hands? Has the blank stare and shows no emotion or respect?”

“Well, he’s not—”

“The one who is supposedly going to spend his company with Princess Zelda everyday after the official Champion ceremony in a few weeks? That’s the boy you wish to be committed to?”

Mipha didn’t bother to answer. She turned her head away, not looking at him. This is exactly what she was afraid would happen. She clenched her fist, nails digging into her palm.

A silence sat between them. Seggin just stared at the bay.

Then, Mipha took a deep breath, before standing up. Taking her trident, she slammed the hilt down with a force that demanded Seggin’s attention.

“Alright, yes! Link might be some of the things you say he is, but he is so much more. So, so, so much more. You may look at him and just see another Hylian, but I have watched Link all of my life. I’ve seen the strength and will that rests behind his blade when he protects the innocent. I’ve witnessed the tenderness of his touch when he comforts those around him in his embrace. Oh Hylia, I’ve watched his recklessness as he explores the world and the Domain with not a care in the world, other than satisfying a curiosity. I’ve seen every scratch and bruises he’s taken from his childhood, and healed every scar and burn from his youth. But I have loved him all the same, because even after all these years, in his eyes is the same love and adoration that he saved for me and me alone. He holds a blank gaze for the sake of keeping up a careful confidence, but every time I see him he graces me with a fantastic smile. I’ve fallen in love, Seggin, alright? And despite my endless respect for you and everyone else, I do not care anymore. I’ve fallen in love with a reckless Hylian, despite the world around me. Despite my every duty as the heir to the throne, despite Link’s every fault, despite it all I’m going to choose to give in to my heart’s desires. I have healed his every wound, and taken his every flaw, because he is who I fell in love with, and my heart belongs to him.”

Mipha stared into Seggin’s eyes, her topaz eyes were filled with the same fire and life as she had back under Naydra’s shadow. The Sergeant’s dark eyes looked back at her. He got onto his feet, a hard expression on his face. Yet, his eyes twinkled with a new warmth.

“Then we best get a move on, and hurry back so you may give him your important gift.” 

Turning back towards the campfire, Seggin went to fetch his spear, and started to snuff out the campfire. Mipha just stood there, bewildered. She watched as he continued about his routine, gathering his satchel and gear without another word. The princess strode towards him, confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you still against my feelings for Link? Aren’t you still mad that I’ve chosen him?” The Sergeant stopped, and turned back to face her.

“In truth, Princess Mipha, I will never understand the true extent of how you have fallen in love with that Hylian. However, what I know for certain is that that boy is a strong and accomplished knight. My son, Bazz, used to spar with him when he was little. He’s become exceptionally stronger, and just studying his movements with the blade, well… Link has a strength not just in his sword, but in his compassion, with the way he taught my son and others as well. In his younger day I could see the kindness in his eyes as he ran around, protecting his other friends in their little sparring games.

“Although he has changed much in recent years, in my opinion not for the better, hearing your words sways me to the fact that perhaps that same young Hylian still lives when around you. So I trust your judgement, Mipha.” He tilted his head to the side.

“This night has brought the best out of you, it’s brought out a level of skill, precision, and talent that I have not seen throughout all my life. I can only conclude that this is the result of your compassion and determination to be with this Hylian. So I do not think anything I could say will sway such a strong heart. 

“You obviously already have your father’s blessing, and not that you need mine, but I think that so long as Link gives you the same level of protection and love that you have displayed, then you have my support on the matter.”

Now, it was Mipha’s turn to stand in a shocked silence. Although, the quiet did not last long as she pulled him into a tight embrace. Unsure of what to do with his arms, Seggin patted her on the back, his more grumpy and serious demeanor returning. 

“But, you should probably still not tell the others immediately. I can’t imagine people like Muzu will have the exact same view as I do.”

She chuckled, “That’s the plan.”

Letting him go, she turned back towards the bay. Picking up her trident, she started to make her way to the waters, ready to head back to the Domain, and complete a certain task. Craning her head back towards the Sergeant, she added, “and...thank you, Seggin. Truly, for everything tonight.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“It was my pleasure.”

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts.)

There is no better way to study a character than to stick them in a situation where they're all alone. No outside disturbance, that way! Hell yeah! I've wanted to write one more of these "character has to survive" oneshots for a little while so I jumped on that occasion. Felix is a pretty fun character to try and a get a hold of. I suppose I've always liked edgy-ass guys. Let's justify every instance of out-of-characterness in this oneshot with blood loss!

It’s longer than I expected it to be, tbh.

--------

Get Out Alive

Summary: He can't afford to die here.

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Post-Timeskip)

Wordcount: 1.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

------

A swooping motion of a fierce-looking, sharp-bladed axe.

A slight moment of inattention, given to another occurrence on the battlefield, misplaced worry.

A few droplets of crimson, shards of fabric, drops of sweat flow in the air along with the branches of the trees.

A move on the other side, of a sword, gets even more poured on the stomped grass.

A body collapses on the ground, another falls on its knee, a hand touching the stained soil.

And soon it crashes into a flow.

 With heavy footsteps, the survivor rises to his feet, swaying. His fingers fumble with the edges of his soaked clothing, tips tinted in red, as he tries to examine the wound. It’s a deep slash, red all over from where his eyes can pry at it, and the stench would have overwhelmed him if he wasn’t so used to defeating enemies and watching their bodies empty themselves from their blood.

Then a wild thought as the world starts spinning: what if he stayed and defeated more enemies? He can’t leave the battlefield like a coward, can he? That’s not how he does it, he isn’t a fucking loser who’s afraid of dying, isn’t he? Death is nothing compared to the thrill of battle!

 A familiar, firm voice calls out to him.

Felix, retreat!

The professor… No. Their leader. Their strategist, their commander on the battlefield. He has to obey their order, doesn’t he? Fuck this shit… Fuck this shit to Hell and back, he wants to continue fighting and do something that isn’t laying around doing jack shit, goddammit, don’t let him down like this!

 Another voice, even more familiar, serious and severe, yet obviously concerned. Urgh.

Felix, you damn idiot, retreat before you get yourself killed!

It’s Ingrid’s, who is flying on her mount right over his head, a blurry image before she goes to spear an opponent about to slash his throat with the scooping motion of a rapier. Backed against a wall that doesn’t exist, he sheathes his dripping sword away, arm still pressed against the wound, and decides he’d be better off not getting harassed either.

 His feet feel heavy, as if the light armour he wears got thicker and more constrictive since he’s put it on. Lethargy courses through his four limbs, one arm dropping by his side, weight pinching forward constantly. His balance is almost non-existent: he swings from one side to the other like an irregular pendulum, senses numbed and will to fight about to give up and in on him.

He resorts to using a corpse’s lance as a crutch, almost tripping on nothing as he kneels to get it. Disgraceful. Disgusting. That’s like showing the most weakness you can in one motion, in one decision. A fierce, proud swordsman like him shouldn’t have to rely on such cheap techniques to even make it out of the field without meeting his end. At best, he’s pathetic.

 Despite the nausea taking a toll on him, he doesn’t taste bile coming up in the back of his throat.

Instead, he tastes iron. Bitter, filtered, liquid iron.

 He’s become the picture of vulnerability and, as if knowing that wasn’t enough, everything in him constantly reminds him of that fact. Every noise seems so far away, the voices of his comrades like the sound of the lance he’s stolen, as if his ears were filled with fabric. His view is swimming more and more as he advances, hardly able to put a foot before the other without tripping, to the point he can soon only see blurry spots of colours and hear distorted sounds.

Dammit, this isn’t good… If his sight fails on him even further, he’s no better than dead in the eyes of anyone on this battlefield. He can’t waste precious time and resources on this, he’s got to get out of this mess on his own, and that’s only now that he realizes he’s afraid of death. Afraid of the eternal void, of the darkness of the everlasting slumber, and he doesn’t want it. Not now, not here. He still has things to do, things to partake in, and he can’t afford to meet his demise here.

He can’t afford to bleed out when he’s lost who-knows-how much of it already.

 Speaking feels like it’d be a waste of energy, so he resolves to mentally motivating himself to the nearest healer. He has to find Mercedes, who wasn’t too far from him at the beginning, but it’s getting hard to distinguish anything in the sea of blur and vague. There’s no way to tell who is an ally and who is an enemy anymore and the screams roaring around him are nothing but a vast, undetermined, messy potpourri of noise. Talk about an environment to find your footing in.

A foot forward, then the other, then the lance… and he trips miserably on the ground, coughing against the grass, smelling the iron of fallen weapon and bodily fluids. It’s disgusting and repulsive, more than it has any right to be, and he gets nauseous to the point of almost fainting. Yet, fighting the world that keeps spinning to the point of being unrecognizable and the fluids that want to exit from his mouth and wounds, he gets up and continues, for once relieved that no fight is happening around him.

 He won’t end up like Glenn, not today, not here, and not in those circumstances! That much he swears on his life!

(That’s ironic…)

 His thoughts are on repeat. Don’t die. Don’t fall. Don’t falter. Don’t get distracted. Don’t engage a fight.

Don’t perish. Don’t trip. Don’t fail. Don’t get your attention somewhere else. Don’t start fighting someone.

Don’t lose your life. Don’t lose your footing. Don’t lose your composure. Don’t lose your focus. Don’t lose your reason because your honour got the best of you.

Don’t die, Felix. You can’t afford it, none of you can afford it.

 The lance breaks between his fingers, tired of supporting his unbalanced weight to itself. His legs are about to give in, but his vision is dampening with black and he can’t find another corpse to steal from. Even in his darkest times, fate gives up in him and tells him to find somewhere else to go, to see if the green isn’t less red in that imaginary destination. The only land he’s getting promised here is the realm of the dead and he doesn’t want to be there.

He’s glad to be alive, thank you, and dying isn’t pleasing him.

 Shivers wreck his frame from head to toes. He feels cold, so cold under the fur of his armour, so cold under the blazing heat of the sun that made him sweat barely minutes ago. Time is torturing him, making him think he’s going to die a moment, giving him back some vigour the next. He feels sick, but it’s no sickness that’s affecting him.

His legs end up giving in in the middle of the field. He tries to drag himself along the grass to make it to safety, to a healer, to something dammit; but his arms are too weak from supporting the rest against a glorified, broken stick, and can’t be expected to lift his weight once again. A glass canon he’s always been, a glass canon he’ll die as. That’s it.

This is the bitter end and it feels as unsatisfying as it could possibly have.

 His eyes shut close and don’t open even when he begs them to. Vague echoes dance in his mind to taunt him –the sound of the living being alive and enjoying life— as he attempts one last time to rise to his knees. His bones have transformed into lead, everything is either too far or too soon. It sure is his end, (not the end, his end, that’s painfully obvious), and it’s an end he doesn’t want to see.

It’s dying in disgrace, dishonour and loneliness, surrounded by the enemy, not unlike what his brother must have gone through during the Tragedy. Fitting, but displeasing to say the least.

 With nothing to see, touch or feel with, he’s stuck waiting for the finale, lying on his back, a lethargic end on the wound that’s going to cost him so, so much. Talk about a miserable defeat, unfit of his mastery. It could have been avoided too, if he hadn’t seen Sylvain almost getting wounded himself… In the end, you really are supposed to stand on your own and be independent, don’t you?

Yeah… That’s funny. Life’s funny. All he has left is to mentally laugh about how pathetic he must look like at the moment. It makes you like or hate it, and then plays around with you until you’re either tired of it or addicted to the feeling of being alive. It’s living for the sake of living until you die and realize how much you have left to do. If he dies today, he won’t ever get to see his house prosper after the death of both heirs. He won’t get to win against the professor he’s sworn to vanquish in a spar someday. He won’t get to see if Sylvain will calm down, if the boar prince (excuse him, Dimitri) will ever come back from the mental war, if his kingdom will win the war.

It’s funny that he cares about all of this so much now. Earlier, he was just busy trying to survive and retreat. It’s amusing in all the wrong meanings of the term.

 Death is funny too if you twist it one way or the other, isn’t it?

 An echo of a voice comes in his vague direction.

Felix!!

It feels like Annette’s voice, but he isn’t sure. It could be Mercedes or even Ingrid, considering how far he’s gone. Footsteps accompany it, until it seems like he’s getting held. It’s not like he can even see who it is to be sure about the identity of the person lifting him up from the ground.

Oh my Goddess, he’s bleeding out…!

The voice frets over herself, reminding his body to feel pain when it’s forgotten how to have anything going through it other than numbness and powerlessness. It’s a strangely welcome slight change, even if he grits his teeth and almost screams in a broken screech.

 H-hang on, Felix, I’ll bring you to safety! Don’t die on me okay?!

He tries nodding. Must be the least reassuring sight ever, but fretting won’t be of use to anyone, so he just does it anyway. The warmth of this person is soothing, why not try to do something in exchange?  

 Funny that hope comes back when despair is settled.

[invokingbees]

I finished Dark Souls 2

So you know what that means!

Absolute fucking Biblical CUBIT of text under the break.

Dark Souls 2 is an oft-maligned game. Once a radically different product, its director was fired half way through and replaced, and the game pretty much rebuilt from scratch using already existing assets, story included. The first time I played DaS2, I didn't like it. I played a caster and had much less experience with the series than I do now, so suffice it to say that I gave up and respecced into a pure strength build because of Fume Knight and vowed to never play the game again because I found it so unenjoyable. But after being disappointed with Sekiro and needing a Souls fix, I reluctantly picked it up again, and with much more experience under my belt, I found myself actually really enjoying it, even more so than my three playthroughs of Dark Souls 1, which to some people, is tantamount to blasphemy. So let me talk about why I feel this way.

In Dark Souls 1, you are the Chosen Undead, with only a scrap of legend to lead you on a quest to save a world on the brink of falling into capital D Darkness. Of course that's all bullshit and is basically a conspiracy against humanity by the gods of fire who feared an age of humanity, an age of Dark. In Dark Souls 2, things are a little different. It appears to have been many many ages since the first game, so much so no one remembers Lordran, no remembers the gods, or Anor Londo or anything. It's been possibly hundreds if not thousands of years. You are again an accursed Undead, who has found themselves in the decrepit land of Drangleic, which long ago was brought to its knees by a war with the Giants from across the sea, after Drangleic's king, Vendrick, took something from them at the bidding of his mysterious queen, Nashandra. Vendrick sought a way to cure or circumvent the Undead Curse which turns all undead, eventually, into mindless Hollows. Alas, although Vendrick was close, he didn't make it, and fled from his queen and his kingdom after learning of her true nature and reason for sending him off to conquer the Giants. You, the Bearer of the Curse, like in DaS1, must collect powerful souls, but instead of linking the first flame and becoming glorified firewood, you must prove yourself a worthy monarch, traverse the continent, gather the Great Souls and take the Throne of Want, to inherit the Fire and conquer the Dark, to overcome the curse, or to leave it and seek something else.

Dark Souls 2 has a more personal scope and is actually the main reason I really liked it. You arrive in Drangleic 'without ever really knowing why' but find your objective fairly quickly. You're gently nudged by the Emerald Herald (the level up waifu) to seek the king and eventually discover he was looking for a way out of the curse. In DaS1 you're fed a grand narrative about the fate of the world and the gods and how you'll be the hero to save it all, but in DaS2, you're the bearer of a curse, a lost soul who's stumbled upon possible salvation and has no real other option but to pursue it. It's a salvation with a lot of responsibility, and you must ask yourself (and are asked by the King's brother, the nefarious Aldia) if that's really what you want. In the end, taking the Throne of Want inherits the fire and links it, takes the power of the gods and keeps it all running, but Dark Souls 2 gives this action a much more personal angle. You could have easily been fed a tale that the king needs a successor and that you must prove yourself in his trials, but no, Vendrick went hollow a long time ago and there's just nobody left to pick up the pieces. But it's all there, if you want it. And Nashandra does so hope that you do.

The idea of Want plays a great part in Dark Souls 2, which really cements the personal angle the game takes. The curse of life is the curse of want. The desire for power, security, knowledge. Vendrick wanted a way out of the curse. But this want factors into the game's real antagonists, the Shards of Manus, Father of the Abyss, who fled through the world and became the queens of four lands, all of which fell to ruin. They were weak creatures, they sought safety, they were envious, fearful, and Wanted. And you have to wonder, are they even to be faulted for what happened? Perhaps. But what about you? Your journey isn't a necessity, it's a want, you rail against fate. You kill and take souls because you want a way out of the curse, to surpass Vendrick's failures.

Dark Souls 2's atmosphere has this almost fairy tale-esque, mythical feel with kings and queens, giants and castles, crowns and thrones, but with the weird and dark twist of Souls lore. There is nary a mention of Gwyn, the first flame, I don't think the game has a single demon outside of the one in Shrine of Amana, and for all the complaints of the game calling back too hard to DaS1, I never felt it was anywhere near as intrusive as people say it is. DaS2 almost could have been its own thing. The different approach to its fantasy feels refreshing, moreso than Dark Souls 3, although truth be told I love that game's idea of an exhausted world being artificially forced to continue and falling in on itself. Dark Souls 2 doesn't even present a world ending threat, because there's other lands out there, Volgin, Forossa and Mirrah come up numerous times and seem to be doing just fine. Drangleic is a ruin to pick through for answers. There is no rush to link the flame, everything is placed upon your want to succeed. Quite meta, in a way.

Lore and atmosphere-wise, I'm very fond of Dark Souls 2. I love the whole lead up to finding Vendrick, hearing about this king, going through the land, fighting your way through the castle, feeling like your hot on his trail, fighting his royal guards, his personal bodyguard and then...you find a mindless husk wandering an empty room. That's a fantastic reveal.

Gameplay-wise, though, it's now time to get tough on DaS2. The game has issues, I won't lie, and they're just enough to bug me.

One thing that really bothered me are the weapon movesets which are, for the most part, abysmal. Nothing feels particularly satisfying and most of the choices just feel janky and awkward. Combat in the game is perfectly serviceable and at time it does feel good but the combat, really, is just fine never anything more. It never feels particularly meaty, but sure, Souls games aren't combat games and this isn't Bloodborne which required a more in-depth combat system. Casting is another matter, Souls magic never felt very good but DaS2 has a pretty good amount of variety to its spells.

The main game has some great areas, but also really just terrible ones. The two most glaring areas, for me, are Black Gulch, a frankly bullshit almost straight hallway lined with poison shooting statues that eat your weapon durability like no one's business if you want to be rid of them (also, this game's durability is a joke). It also has OHK grab enemies and worm enemies designed to just completely block movement. It's a bad, bad area with a shit Dirty Colossus rip off boss as one of its Great Souls bosses. Of course there's also Shrine of Amana, an area that was once nearly unplayable and was reduced to just frustrating and unenjoyable. Instant death drops everywhere, a near constant movement penalty, ranged attacks coming from all sides, all the time. Bad fucking area. There's certain sections of other areas that stick out, too, like the run to the boss in Huntsman's Copse, or the foggy forest in Shaded Woods with almost literally invisible enemies.

As for the bosses, they're mostly forgettable. They range from pretty cool gimmick battles like Looking Glass Knight, to complete fucking trash like Royal Rat Vanguard or Authority. I really appreciate DaS2's amount of DeS-like gimmick bosses, especially since DaS3 went real hard with the JUST LIKE ARTORIAS stuff but shit like Executioner's Chariot, tone it down for fuck's sake. At least take out the necromancers if you must have skeletons. I wil say, DaS2 gets flak for having lots of dudes in armour, but to me, it fits the tone of the game, even if some of them are a bit crap. The base game's final bosses, though, are a shame. Nashandra is barely a fight and Aldia even less so. He's immensely tedious and there's just nothing fun, interesting or satisfying about it. He sticks out as one DaS2's worst moments and was clearly added as an afterthought.

The DLCs, I'm actually not the biggest fan. Most people say the DLCs are better than the main game, but Brume Tower? Kinda sucks. It's drab, its boss is frustrating, there's not much to do, Maldron the Assassin is there. Shulva, Sanctum City? Much better, great aesthetic, nice level design, but then it throws in LMAO POISE enemies all over the place, and not just that, but the constant threat of poison and the return of Black Gulch poison statues. Eleum Loyce? Has the best bossfight in the entire game, that's for sure, my heart aches for the Burnt Ivory King, but there's little things here and there and that sour a mostly fine experience. The return of Maldron the Assassin, for one, and of course the fucking spiky rat fucker Wheel Skeleton 2.0 bullshit enemies who can and will kill you in seconds.

Also the intro where you meet the Firekeepers is just fucking awful, oh my GOD.

Overall, Dark Souls 2's bad moments are bad, they're terrible, but let's not forget Dark Souls 1 had the entirely of Lost Izalith, the Demon Ruins and Blighttown, and Dark Souls 3 has TWO poison swamps. The good parts of Dark Souls 2, its amtosphere, its art style, its general tone, are sorely overlooked and sometimes outright ignored in favour of, in my opinion, overbloated nostalgia for Dark Souls 1. Dark Souls 2 has a lot going for it, it has combat mechanics like power-stancing which is great, it has a totally overhauled NG+, it has variety and weird gimmick weapons and armour the ass, it has fantastic fashion, it's a good fucking game and deserves praise for the good things it did. And like the other Souls games, criticism for the things it fucked up on. But regardless, I'm glad we have them, and I'm really glad I've played through Dark Souls 2 again. It deserves to be played.

[hellomissmabel]

Mångata part 1

MASTERLIST

AO3 account

Pairing: Thor x plus size!reader. OC!daughter Stella, OC!twins Frey and Atlas.

Warnings: Fluff. Sexual references to male member in the downstairs department but nothing NSFW.

Word count: 2k

Summary: Born from a falling star erupting on Asgardian ground, her small body was covered in little marks that would grow into birth marks representing the constellations. Once of age, Y/N agreed to married Thor and become the future queen of Asgard. Now she is the goddess of the stars and accompanies Heimdall during his watch. However, as the universe exhibits a unique yet peculiar string of events, she is forced to seek shelter on Midgard from an enemy that might just be her own flesh and blood.

A/N: written for @supersoldierslover and my prompt was “showering together (non sexual)”.

Series masterlist can be found here

You stood bare in the reflection of the moon, a rich and deep golden hue circling your Y/E/C eyes whenever you’re admiring the stars. Your twin boys are sound asleep in the adjoining room yet your husband Thor is still tending to your daughter, trying to sing her to sleep. His atrocious singing voice only inspires laughter in the blonde-haired child and just like many nights before, Thor shows her Mjolnir and tells her the tale of how his hammer was created. Eventually she doses off into slumber, sleeping soundly throughout the changing of day into night.

“Shall we bathe together, wife?” The God’s rumbling voice is accompanied by the whisk of thunder, emphasising his request to spend some time with his other half. Without awaiting your reply, he sheds himself of his robes and presses his girth against the small of your back as he embraces your curves. He is not a shy man and already thick with arousal for what the night will bring.

While you crane your head so you can present your husband with a loving kiss, the golden rim around your eyes grows into a stormy light blue sparkle befitting the God of thunder. “Of course, husband.”

Guiding you by the hand first before swooping you up into his arms, he carries you towards the bathroom. Entirely made of Asgardian marble, the bathroom has an open roof so the waterfall can cascade down on you as you look up to the heavens above. His strong hands dig into your hips as he pulls you into his chest.

“Did you see the changing of the stars this eve?,” you inquire softy as he rinses your hair.

“No, I did not.” His answer rumbles through his chest like a lightning bolt through the sky. “Why should I care about the stars that are so remote when I have a far more celestial being right in front of me?”

Caressing your voluptuous body with a tenderness many claim the crude Asgardian does not possess, he washes you softly, gently massaging the oils into your skin while paying close attention to the markings that are the wondrous constellations etched onto your skin. “Sometimes you can be such a barbarian, all divine beauty lost on those electric eyes.”

The blond’s chest heaves with laughter. “The only divine beauty I see is you, Y/N.”

“I am in love with a fool,” you chuckle heartily, a warm smile playing on your lips as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Another follows quickly after and soon your lips are permanently locked with his.

When he tucks away your wet hair with his strong, sturdy hands, Thor kisses your forehead affectionately. “The Lady Sif informed me of your training. She speaks to me of your progress yet still you refuse to wear the armour I had made for you.”

You sigh softly into your robust shoulder, running your fingertips over his collarbone while resting your cheek in the nape of his neck. “I have no desire to look like a warrior. I prefer the robes of a wife and mother.”

“Whatever robes you choose to wear, my queen, you will always be a warrior. Even when you were bearing the fruit of my offspring in your womb, you were fighting alongside the lady Sif and myself.”

Thor gazes down at you with an endearing expression. “I am aware of your lack of need for weapons, your godly abilities providing you with sufficient protection. But Y/N, despite your immortality, your flesh still holds a boundary of weakness.”

His fingers trail down your back as they follow the constellation of Orion. “At daybreak, I will see to it that the armour fits. Then I shall attend to my usual tasks. Satisfied, husband?”

Thor places an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, seeking out the sensitivity of your human flesh so he can inspire some much-needed relaxation upon your tight, sore muscles. “Very much so, wife. Do they still need your services at the Soul Forge?”

“Odin has decided that Frigga shall continue without me. My presence is therefore required at Heimdall’s side at all times.”

The blond senses there is something off about your answer. Heimdall does a fine job at keeping Asgard and the nine realms safe. So why is it that the Alvader rules with such an unusual insistence?

“If anything happens, Y/N, you must take our child and hide on Midgard. My friends, the Avengers, shall protect you,” Thor speaks carefully into your ear. “If the alignment of these stars is indeed as peculiar as you have told me, then it is not safe on Asgard.”

“But what will you do?,” you query with concern as Thor’s feather-light affections shift from your hips to your face, his warm hands cupping your face.

“You are not of this realm. Odin has warned us that the day your ancestors might come for you might be closer than ever before.” Searching your eyes, the blond speaks insistently. “Tell me more. What have you seen?”

“I can show you.” Looking up to the sky, you release one of your arms wrapped around Thor’s waist to reveal to his eyes the same miracles your eyes fall upon every second of every day. Many more stars are now exposed to his baffled gaze and their light fills up the heavens in a rainbow of metamorphosis.

The changing of the clouds on Midgard is nothing compared to the exchanging of celestial energy between two stars of this universe and perhaps the next. “This realm is enveloped by three fiery stars and one of ice, one of earth and one of air. These stars are called Elementals and once they align, they morph into one entity.”

Thor followers your pointer finger, directing his eyes towards where one heavenly object shines brighter than the others. “That’s the earth star, the sun of Midgard.”

Her fingertips now reach another stellar, forming the tip of the nose of one of your favourite constellations, the little bear. “That’s the most beautiful star, the ice star. It is the diamond of the galaxy. And right next to it is the air star. Both of them are only visible at the stroke of midnight and only for a very limited window.”

Enraptured by the mysteries unfolding before his curious gaze, Thor returns his attention towards the wondrous creature in his arms. “And what about the three stars of fire?”

Squeezing your ass with a teasing chuckle, you lift the veil of the skies one last time for your husband to worship its exquisiteness. “They only shine at dawn, but only few can see them. Even Heimdall has to look very closely before he can locate their position.”

“But you can see them effortlessly,” the Asgardian hums lowly. “My omniscient wife.”

“I only have to look at the stars and I can see various possible future outcomes unfold in front of my eyes,” you smile up at your blond deity. “But with the alignment of the stars comes the alignment of the past, present and future.”

There’s a fair warning to your tone, goose bumps rising on your exposed skin. “It is a most dangerous time loop that will be created. Things that have been done, can be made undone. Events that have yet to come, can be postponed or even worse, obliterated. Time is most fickle and to meddle with the wheels of time is a death sentence.”

“And have you brought your suspicions to Odin’s attention as well?”

You shake your head in regret. “I have not. Odin is too enamoured by his grandchildren to be bothered with the tides of the universe.”

“My dearest, you should inform my father as of immediately!,” Thor presses with clear firmness. “We must protect the nine realms if such a dark fate awaits us!”

“My love, it is not certain these stars will ever align. And if they do, we will be prepared for it. I will speak to Odin at the council in two days’ time.” His eyes swirl in a great depth of blue and they easily remind you of your twin boys. “No need to worry yet, my love.”

All your children have the same eyes, Thor’s eyes, even though Stella’s are a tint darker. There’s truly no purer colour than Asgardian sapphire, yet there’s a part of you that wishes your celestial powers wouldn’t prohibit you from passing on your unique eye colour.

“Agreed. I trust you, Y/N,” Thor replies as he cradles your body in his arms, his lips resting against your temple. “I love you, too.”

“It is a most interesting thing to witness, the dynamics between Atlas, Frey, Stella and Odin.” Now it is your turn to take care of Thor, his favourite oil in the palm of your hand as you see to his muscled torso.

“Atlas, the apple of Odin’s eye, the young giant who appears to have been created in his father’s image and possesses the strength of titans. My sweet, frail Frey with his boyish features has charmed his way to Frigga’s heart. And even though he might not hold a mirror to his father’s looks, he does have his mother’s heart that yearns for the infinity of the galaxy. And Stella, oh Stella.”

With a loving chuckle, you swiftly turn on the heels of your feet so you are facing Thor’s back, continuing your careful ministration. “My girl with the temperament of a thousand stars. One day she will be as mighty and as worthy as her father.”

“I would argue with you on that,” the God of Thunder hums softly, enchanted by your tender touches and the butterfly kisses they accompany. ““Odin does not have any favourites, and neither does Frigga. But you are right.”

“A wife is always right,” you wink at him once you are face to face again. “Isn’t that why you waited so long to ask for my hand in marriage?”

Rolling his eyes at you, Thor spins you around so your back hits his sturdy chest for the God adores the feeling of your plump ass against his member. “Atlas is a miniature version of myself and he indeed possesses the ability to influence the sky,” he whispers into your ears as he embraces you tightly.

“Frey takes after his mother in many ways and is the cleverest of the three.” His hands roam your stomach, appreciating the soft skin with great precision so he does not miss an inch. “And Stella, she is the heir to my throne, the thunder in my veins. My little girl will master the art of the heavens faster than Atlas will bring forth his first victory or Frey will solve his first riddle.”

Thanks to the comfort of the warm shower and your husband’s body sheltering you from all negativity, you allow yourself to melt into him without a worry on your mind. “Such beautiful children,” you sigh quietly as Thor pecks the sweet spot under your ear.

“If I had known you would bless me with such precious offspring, I would’ve courted you sooner!”

Thor has always been the most valiant and gallant of lovers. Nevertheless, even when he was younger, he already had a very outspoken profile and very direct in his affections. Soon the whole of Asgard had heard of the God’s advances towards you. However that did not stop him from pursuing you, for Thor does not know any shame in the game of love. Never with little presents and neither with grand gestures, but always with a message straight from his heart.

“You courted me as soon as I started showing interest in boys,” you mumble to yourself as his lips find another sensitive spot to woo. Your hips sway gently while you cross your arms over his and take his hands in yours. “But I only ever had eyes for one.”

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean65 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @stefenrogers @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @lostinthoughtsandfeelings

Tag list for all plus size stories: @suz-123 @kiwi71281 @whatisaheroanyway @ilovebeingjoyful @veronicalei @meganlane84 @thescarsweleave @isaxhorror @pleasantdreamqueen @georgiadean37 @revlismoriarty @evyiione @salamander-falls @taylorjacksonandtheolympians @jughead-wuz-here @jasmineladjevardi @sonofadeanwinchester @3dsaunt @marvel-at-bucky @nothin-after-79 @sexy-sea-basss @shesmade0fcandy @wtfisalltherandoms @mrs-dr-strange @disneymarina @secondsandstars @brandybucky @metal-armed-dino @amethyst09 @sydsmut @princess76179 @marvelsdaughter @spideynygma  @beautifulbri26 @allyp1023

Strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

[haiky-u-lously]

December 3nd: Mittens

For @haikyuusmiles I know you’ve been having a rough time lately and I am so so so sorry for that. I hope things in life turn around and that you feel more up to things. But for now, please enjoy your very one Christmas gift. [ps. I was unsure who to do so I hope you like Daichi]

Character: Daichi Sawamura

Note: This is a Soulmate AU where you meet your soulmate and all the memories or your past lives unfold before you, the two partners get different images though and they are not the same every lifetime. Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________________________

“Why i-is it-t-t-t s-s-so co-col-cold,” You stuttered, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “My fingers feel like they’re going to fall off.” You emphasized you point by shoving your hands under your best friend’s gaze, “See the tips are turning a different color!”

They just laughed at your misery. “It’s fine (F/N). Why don’t you stop in for some gloves if you’re that serious about it.”

You smiled at your friend’s intuition. “Perfect idea as always, (B/F/N). I’ll be back shortly.” You point a finger gun at your friend before scowling out, “Don’t ditch me like last time. I won’t be as forgiving.”

They just laughed and slightly pushed you towards the electronic doors of the store.

Thankfully you had been walking through the shopping district, headed to the nearby art studio to do something your friend called painting with a twist. You didn’t really know what to expect but figured it was a good excuse to hang out with them after being so busy with life. Too Bad the studio was a twenty minute walk from your apartment complex, and that’s without traffic. Let alone the fact that it was freezing and you had not had the chance to buy new winter gloves, or a hat, or a scarf...thinking about it now you were really unprepared for the winter season this year.

You made your way to the winter accessories and found the perfect pair of black leather gloves with a soft, warm fabric lining the insides. It was the last pair and just as you reached out for it, you saw another hand do the same.

The large hand wrapped around your own. You having just barely beaten the stranger’s hand to the gloves.

Before a second had passed the vision in front of your eyes changed.

A man with short, dark brown hair smiled down at you. Looking around you realized you were on a horse and the man was wearing a uniform of silver.

A flash and the scene around you changed.

You stood beside a masked figure, both of you swinging swords for your lives as you fought against a horde of giant spiders. His dark brown eyes contrasting against the bright orange of his mask.

Another flash and another new scene.

You were looking down at a man who had the same brown eyes as the masked figure before, and same dark locks from the knight on the horse. You felt tears running down your face before seeing the man smile up at you as he caressed your cheek. Watching as the light drained from his eyes, feeling the tightness in your chest grow.

More flashes came. More scenes from your past lives. You figured it out by then. You were reliving all the major points of your previous lives with your soulmate. You had met your soulmate.

The man was kneeling in front of you, the largest smile on his face despite the tears in his eyes. A ring in a box standing between you on his palm. Your past self half pushed it out of the way, half grabbed onto it, while their other hand pulled him to standing position by placing a hand on his neck. Then you were kissing him. And it felt good, it felt right.

Slowly, your sight adjusted back to the world you were currently in.

You were facing your soulmate, the dark brown of his eyes alight with life. Before you knew what was happening you were kissing him. And just like what the past you had felt, it was good, it was right. It made you feel whole.

He pulled away from you to take a breath, but held you close to his chest. You didn’t know what he had seen, maybe he was afraid you’d run away.

“Hi,” He said. Giving you a cheeky smile.

You shook your head out and returned the grin, “Hi.”

“In this life I am Sawamura Daichi, my soulmate.”

Laughing at his word choice, you decided to follow his lead, “In this life I am (L/N) (F/N).”

He winked down at you, “Guess we can skip the formalities. Huh, (F/N)?”

This boy felt like sunshine to you. Because hadn’t you just been freezing your ass off? You couldn’t tell anymore, your skin felt like it was on fire wherever he touched, despite being separated by clothes. “Guess so, Daichi.”

“I should probably let you have these to, being the gentleman that I was.”

“Oh,” You realized he was sharing about what he saw and again decided to follow his lead, “My knight in shining armour to the rescue.”

His flushing at your comment made you giggle. Teasing him will be fun.

“God, (F/N)!” You heard from behind you. You quickly spun around in Daichi’s arms, because the taller male did not move to let go of you. “What is taking you so-!” You friend cut off their tantrum upon seeing you in the arms of some guy.

They cocked their eyebrows questionably while moving to try and pull you away, in case this was unwelcomed on your part.

You quickly managed to shake your arms between your pair and your best friend, explaining, “No no no, it’s fine (B/F/N). It’s fine. This is my soulmate.” You smiled at your friend, “we just met.”

Their entire demeanor changed as their (e/c) orbs blew wide. Then they were jumping and clapping at how excited they were for you to finally have met your soulmate. (they had met theirs over a year ago, and now you two could go on double dates and it would be so much fun according to their explanation.)

You smiled sweetly at them, expecting this sort of reaction, but soon felt the slight squeeze from Daichi’s arms before they started to drop from your sides. Even the slight difference in pressure already began to feel strange and you made short work of latching your arms around his to keep them in place. “Right, so (B/F/N) I’m sorry but I would really like to get to know him more in this life. Can we re-schedule the paint thing?” You knew your friend would agree, but still felt you should show your considerate side in front of your new acquaintance.

“Well duh you baka.” They said, cutting off their excited tone. “You have to get to know your soulmate asap, that’s like 101 of soulmate meet ups. I ain’t messing with fate like that. I’m not stupid.” They quickly said goodbye, and told Daichi it was great to meet him (even though they didn’t really meet him...and they say they aren’t slow), before waving over their shoulders as they made their way out of the store.

“So,” You started, turning back to face the dark haired male, still held within his muscled arms, “what would you like to do?”

He shifted to hold you with one arm as the other moved to scratch the back of his neck. The sheepish look seemed to fit him well, but you wondered how you made him so nervous so quickly.

“Sorry, it’s just that, I’m the captain of my school’s volleyball team and we have practice in a bit,” He really looked apologetic. Probably because you just blew off your friend in front of him and now he was telling you he couldn’t do the same. “It’s just that we have a major competition coming up soon and I can’t-”

You cut off his explanation with a kiss. Pulling back, you spoke before he regained his ground, “It’s fine Daichi. I said I wanted to learn more about you. What’s a better way to do that then watch you do something you obviously love?”

His eyes bore into your own (e/c) orbs, looking for any sign of contradiction to your words. He found none.

Lifting you up and spinning you at the same time, he caused you to burst out laughing.

Settling you down, he grabbed the gloves from your hands, and then snatched a similar brown pair that you had previously ignored. “Come on, soulmate.”

You tried to grab on of the pairs of gloves but his grip was strong and you couldn’t pull them out.

He ended up buying the pairs for you and put them on for you as he led you out the door. Saying, “Man, everyone is going to be so jealous that I have a cute as pie soulmate. When they find out that you used to be royalty I swear Tanaka and Noya will flip a gasket.”

While you were shocked to hear you were once a royal, you were to busy zeroing in on the fact that his now brown gloved hand dwarfed you now black gloved hand. Yet you still felt warmth as if it wasn’t the dead of winter around you.

______________________________________________________________________________

[gurdian-cocytus]

Overlord: Enri Enmott’s Bizzare Adventure

(This is NOT written by me. The original author is “Demiurge”. Although it is originally posted on Baidu, it has been moved to another site. The link is here. Now sit back and enjoy the tale of Enri going around the world kicking ass and taking names, all in the name of Ainz Ooal Gown!)

Chapter 1: Occupation

Enri Enmott. Once she was a simple village girl in Carne Village. Then one day, warriors from the Slane Theocracy disguised under the Empire’s banner massacred her village, all part of an assassination attempt on Gazef Stronaff, the kingdom’s famed warrior .

 Yet instead of the spectre of death, Enri encountered the one who will change the fate of the world, her village, and herself——Ainz Ooal Gown!

 Ainz healed her wounds, and gifted upon her the invaluable item “Horn of the Goblin General”. With it, Enri is able to summon a squad of 19 goblin warriors. As the village is short on manpower, the goblins provided much needed security and manpower.

 When the village was in need of defense, Ainz once again helped them, providing stone golems that are strong and incapable of exhaustion. With their help, the village built up walls and watchtowers, which became crucial in later events.

 As time goes, the goblins integrated and became an inseparable part of the village. Enri’s importance rises quickly, and she became the mayor. This event may be insignificant on a wordly scale, but Enri this is a momentous shift in her life.

 After taking in goblins and ogres from the forest and reinforcing their defenses, the village successfully repelled an attack from the forst monsters. Carne Village has become more than just a village, but a bastion where different races lived in harmony.

 When war broke out between the Kingdom and the Empire, Re-Etize’s first prince attacked Carne village. This proved to be a foolish endeavour. Enri’s goblin army wiped out the 5000-strong troop, while Lupusregina and the red hats killed whoever remained, including the first prince himself. Soon, rumours of “Enri the Bloody” spread all across E-Rantel.

 As the goblin army has grown to in the thousands, Carne Village is no longer able to support that many goblins. So Ainz, whose Sorcerous Kingdom has taken over E-Rantel, arranged for the goblin army to enter E-Rantel. This serves two purposes: to promote inter-racial harmony; and the food and resources the kingdom prepared for the war can be a nice reward to Enri, whose loyalty the the sorcerer king never wavered. What an act of supreme benevolence!

Today, the streets of E-Rantel is filled with people. Indeed, it seems most residents of the city has came out. For what reason you ask? Today is the day the city’s administrator——the Dark Hero Momon came to greet the goblin army from the sorcerous kingdom into the city.

Right now, Momon is standing in the middle of the main road, with his assistant Nabe the Beauty at his side. The reason why the event has such a big turnout is due to Momon’s words:”I heard this army of five thousand is commanded by a human, so perhaps we can coexist peacefully.” Therefore, almost all of E-Rantel has turned out for the event.

“If the commander is a human, surely she’ll be on Sir Momon’s side. Maybe the undead soldiers will leave.”

“Hard to say. Goblins aren’t that much better than undead...”

“I don’t care. As long as the undead are gone, I’ll take even an army of slimes!”

“Shush! Here they come!”

A goblin rider is galloping forward toward the city square. Even looking from a distance, one can tell this goblin is much stronger then your average goblins. It’s armour shimmered in the sun, obviously made of good materials.

Even though the army of five thousand has not arrived, this one knight is enough to impress the city’s residents, as well as the spies from various nations mixed in the crowd——Ainz Ooal Gown commands not only powerful undead and monsters, but also powerful creatures from all races!

“Sir Momon. I, captain Alvis of the riders’ corp, represents General Enri. General Enri is on her way here, per his majesty’s orders. As planned earlier, I will be introducing the regiments entering the city. If there is any changes to schedule, please tell me now. If not, then the entry ceremony will commence at once.”

Alvis did not came down from his winged wolf, and spoke to Momon still mounted. The crowd became unruly at this sight.

“How dare a goblin treat Sir Momon so rudely!”

“Hmmph, of course lowly races would know nothing of manners. Typical!”

Momon gestures everyone to be quiet, and the murmurs die down. Right now, Momon is almost divine in the hearts of E-Rantel’s citizens: a strong and gentle man who saved the city at its worst crisis.

“E-Rantel welcomes you, Sir Alvis. I hope his majesty’s army will treat his subjects amicably.”

“Our army is indeed commanded by General Enri of the sorcerous kingdom. Of course we will protect his majesty’s subjects with our lives, so you can be at ease, Sir Momon. Now, I shall signal the main army.

Alvis took out a small horn and blew into it. Soon, loud drumbeats can be heard outside the city.

While this is happening, Yuri Alpha and Lupusregina Beta are observing the proceedings from a hidden spot. Lupusregina is here because Ainz has awarded her with a day free after completing her mission protecting Carne village. Yuri is here at her sister’s request.

“Good things are better when shared.” is what Lupusregina said.

The two had disguised themselves, so they fit right in the crowd.

“As expected of Lord Ainz. He must’ve thought of this when he encountered the girlie. Even if he never directly said it, the fact that he gave the item to her should be clear enough.”

The two conversed quietly as the event begins. Having only observed the goblin army from afar once, Yuri is filled with curiosity.

The drum rolls come closer and closer, and from the horizon the leading regiment comes into sight. Gigantic boars carried great drums and drummers——they are the one thumping on the drums. Tribal tattoos covering the drummers’ bared upper bodies. With every move, the drummers’ muscles shakes and pulsates, showing off a wild, primal force of nature that puts everyone present in awe.

“First in the line is the goblin war band, under general Enri’s command. They may be few in number, but they are responsible for coordination on the battlefield.”

After the dozen members of the war band entered the city, a death knight led them away to their camping grounds. As the drum beats fade away, they were replaced by steady footsteps and clangs of armour. The sound is, to the surprise of many present, uniform and disciplined, further impressing the crowd.

“Now entering the city is out most populous regiment: the goblin armored corp. They can easily disperse the enemy army.”

Looking over the goblin army, one onlooker was reminded of his own war-torn motherland.

(If only our army has such strengths, we could’ve easily hold off our enemies. Maybe even take back lost territories...)

(...Maybe. It’s not like we didn’t spent a fortune on arming our forces each year, and yet...)

Following the armored corp came the cavalry. A rider riding a huge white wolf lead the troop, bathed in silvery holy light. Behind him are a group of riders similar to Alvis, alongside a group that looks similar to the paladin leader, albeit riding smaller wolf mounts. Following them are the regular cavalry.

“The cavalry consists of both holy light paladins and regular cavalry corp, which I belong. The paladins are few in numbers, but their strength is formidable.”

From the mayoral manor, Ainz is watching closely at the streets. Even with a long distance between him and the procession, his super-vision allows him to see clearly.

(I was wondering why Pandora is awfully excited after I ordered him to arrange Enri’s entry. I certainly didn’t ask for a military parade!)

Ainz felt his none-existent stomach aching again.

“Albedo, what are your thoughts on...this?”

“Even though goblins are lowly races, from the perspectives of humans I must say——this is a wonderful performance. Lord Ainz must’ve already foresaw the human girl’s talent from the beginning, so wise...I was indeed a fool back then. I am so very grateful to serve you.”

“Uh...no need to be hard on yourself, Albedo. I’m simply glad you can understand my plan.”

(Already foresaw my ass! I did everything but ‘foresaw’ this! I must say, that trash item actually spawned an army of goblins. Whoever made this is a sneaky one!)

he archers came after the cavalry. They wear red cloaks and carried huge bows that seem too heavy for a human to use. Their leader’s bow is especially huge, and even a physically fit human probably can’t lift it up.

“These are the goblin long bowmen. No one they set their eyes on has ever escaped. They can take lives from even hundreds of feet away.”

The goblins behind them wore long hooded robes and carries long staffs, clearly the look of magic casters.

“I-impossible!Their magic has reached level four?!”

“Are you seeing it right, man?”

“Hell, I wish I am!”

Someone from the magician’s guild is able to appraise the goblin casters’ magic level, and caused the ruckus. Level three magic is considered strong among magic casters, since most humans cannot use magic. Those able to use high-level magic are seen as rarities. Even a grand master like Fluder can only use magic up to level six. Even these goblin casters can cast level four magic, they would be an unstoppable force in battle.

“As seen here, these are our magic casters——magic blasters and magic enhancers. They will be our enemies’ worst nightmare!”

For the citizens of E-Rantel, this is indeed a nightmare. Initially hoping this general Enri is a normal human, now they are beginning to think this Enri must be a terrifying monster like Ainz Ooal Gown——only a monster can command other monsters.

“There she is! Boy, what an outfit!”

“Of course. This outfit is the brainchild of us and all other 41 maids. It fits every requirement Lord Pandora asked for.”

Lupusregina has already caught Enri walking forward with her superior vision. Under Pandora’s plan, Enri is slotted to appear last. Sebas was put in charge of giving her an impressionable appearance. Thinking a female touch is needed, he brought in the Pleiades for help, and eventually all 41 homunculus maids pitched in to create this outfit.

The five goblins appearing from the gates steps forward in a triangular formation. The soldiers clad in red hats, iron shoes and holding war scythes are cold-blooded killers——the most elite troops in the goblin army, the Red Hats. The only reason they appeared today is to protect their mistress, general Enri.

Today, Enri ditched the village maiden dress she wore for all her life, and put on the special outfit gifted by Lupusregina——her upper body is glad in white leather armour, with the emblem of Ainz Ooal Gown sewn on the chest. A coat loosely hang over her shoulder, with the sorcerous kingdom’s emblem on its back. White trousers and brown long boots complete the whole getup.

Ainz was immediately hit with a sense of deja vu when he first saw the outfit. When he asked about it, he received this answer: “Since Lord Pandora’s outfit is designed by Lord Ainz based on military uniforms, and general Enri needs to show her might as a general of the sorcerous kingdom, we based her outfit on that of Lord Pandora’s, with a few feminine touch of course.” Ainz could only grit his teeth as his nonexistent stomach ached. It sure sucks when your dark history comes back to bite you!

“Alvis of the cavalry corp, reporting to general Enri, mam!”

“You did well, Alvis. Now you may return to your position.”

Enri got off her horse and walks toward Momon. She took off her glove, showing off her rough hands you can find on either a farmer or a seasoned warrior.

In order to make sure she put out a strong first impression, Enri has been rehearsing and practising for the event. For everyone in the army, it is a sacred duty to aid their master. But for Enri, whose status and responsibilities escalated so rapidly, it was an exhausting and stressful affair. When Ainz heard Lupusregina’s report, he found himself emphasizing with Enri.

“Welcome, General Enri.”

“Sir Momon. Apologies for having you wait this long.”

Momon removes his gauntlet and reveals his large hand. Since Momon never takes any of his armor off in public, this gesture is rare. The onlookers seem to interpret this as Momon taking extra caution around this seemingly ordinary girl, having resorted to such strict manners.

For Enri, this is the first time she is under the gaze of so many people. She isn’t feeling a single shred of pride and joy as her goblin adviser explained. The rising nervousness in her keeps repeating what she learned during the rehearsal, so she can act them out naturally.

(This is way too many people! Why did I agree to this?)

“Even if it’s a gift from Lord Ainz, I’m grateful you did so much to provide camping grounds for us.”

This is the only thing Enri spoke today with genuine feelings. Since it’s still winter, the village alone won’t be able to support 5000 people. And hunting in the forest in large scale will devastate the land and deplete precious natural resources. To Enri, being able to have a camping ground and abundant food for her army is a gift from heaven.

“Then, Nabe will handle settling your army in. Since we have a few things to discuss, could you send someone to help Nabe with the arrangement?”

“I see. Adviser, you may go with her.”

“Of course, madam. I will assist lady Nabe with whatever she requires.” the goblin adviser bowed.

“Then please follow me. Everyone is waiting for you.”

Enri follows Momon towards the Adventurer’s Guild. The thirteen red hats that are guarding Enri also began to follow them.

“It’s okay everyone. I trust sir Momon will protect me. You may head to the camping grounds as well.”

Enri made her order with a smile. She still isn’t too used to her role. After all, everyone is expecting her to act like a seasoned general; no easy task for someone who’s been a farmer girl all her life. Fortunately she had gained some experience from taking in Abu and the other exiled goblins and ogres. With a little bit of practice, she thought she put up a decent performance.

“But general。。。”

Enri shook her head before the red hat can finish, her eyes determined and forceful.

“As you wish.”

“I leave the rest to you, adviser.”

“I will not let you down, general. The army will remain mobilized.”

The goblin adviser and the thirteen red hats bowed and place their hand above their hearts, a gesture of fealty towards Enri.

“All right, now just turn around and leave...”

Enri mutters to herself as she turns to Momon. Her adviser and the red hats head off toward the camp. Meanwhile...

“Even though she looks young, it looks like all the goblins really respect her.”

“As expected of Enri the Bloody. Remember back when we first met her? I bet had Sir Momon not intervened, she would start a massacre right on the spot!”

“Indeed! Sir Momon must have realized her strengths, and therefore told us to let her through.”

“Right...I remember Miss Nabe left on her own afterwards. She must have went to investigate Enri’s powers and motives!”

“Yup, yup!”

A group of former city guards are heatedly discussing what happened that day. Lupusregina, who was nearby, also joins them. Since she is in disguise, she isn’t worried about being recognized.

“I heard from a friend from Carne Village that Enri can punch through goblins and tear ogres apart with her bare hands!”

Yuri facepalmed at Lupusregina’s words, but the other all ate it up fully.

“A strong-armed general...”

And so, history repeats itself.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

At Bay (again)

Idk if its just me, but the formatting for the At Bay one shot is really screwed up for me. Like there are large chunks of just plain space, and the read more line covers up the whole thing. Plus the text is overlapping each other???? So, I’m just gonna post it in a regular text thing also, just in case. If the other post is working fine for you, great! But I’m just doing this too just in case it’s screwed up for anyone else. So yeah, here is me, doing that

Anon:  Hi! I don't know if you ship it (if not, feel free to ignore), but could you do something with Link x Mipha? Thanks!!

Ok so, I was going to write a nice fluffy confession scene with Link and Mipha, but that just got my wheels turning about how Mipha crafted the armour. And that turned into how I thought she got the materials she need to make it. And that turned into a cool flashback scene, and that turned into me wanting to make Mipha bad ass... and that turned into me wanting to give her compelling character growth. Ok I’m basically saying that this whole oneshot is about Mipha. It’s still based on the Mipha/Link ship, buuuut this is just a long winded way of me saying Link isn’t really in this one. So...sorry? Maybe in the future I’ll finish the fluffy confession scene, but for now, enjoy this! (Cause I really love how it turned out)

At Bay

Miphlink 5459 words

Just as the sun was swallowed by the sea, she rose to watch the horizon. The last few rays of light shimmered like amber on the cool waters of Lanayru Bay. In a few moments, the whole ocean would be washed by the cold of night. Waves crashed against the ragged rocks, the white foam pooling near her ankles. The princess’ eyes were fixed on the sky, the sea breeze nipped at her face, causing her fins and jewelry to sway. It was a cloudless night, the stars seemed to twinkle restlessly in the air. The moon was nowhere to be seen, the bay only reflected the silent stars, and the flickering orange light from behind her. The sergeant probed the campfire with a stick, fiddling with the charred wood. Kneeling by its warmth, he looked up at her. “Your Highness, you need not sit so close to the shore. We don’t know what kind of monsters lurk in the sea at this hour.” Mipha turned her head back at him, a wry smile on her lips. “Don’t worry yourself, Seggin. I am quite skilled with my trident thanks to your teachings.” She patted her weapon that lay beside her, its metal clinked against the rocks at her touch. “Besides,” she returned her gaze to the sky. The summit of the snowy mountain divided the eventide with its presence. It seemed to rise beyond the heavens. “We should hope that one particular beast appears tonight.”

Rising himself from the campfire, Sergeant Seggin walked and stood beside Mipha, who was crouched on the damp rocks. The towering figure of Mount Lanayru cloaked the bay, along with the surrounding trees, in a soft shadow. The evergreens rustled, and the familiar smell of the sea was carried through the air. A collection of loose pebbles crawled across the shore from the forces of water and wind. Shifting her bare feet, she could feel the smooth and rounded stones under her.

It was not four hours ago, when Mipha and Seggin had swam through the Rutala River, and hiked across the Brynna Plains to get to their current point. While her father had known the true purpose of her trip, she had only told the Sergeant only the bare details necessary in order to get him to come. Afterall, a princess would never be allowed to do this all alone. Seggin set the hilt of his own spear against the ground, leaning his weight against it. He gazed at the sky along with her, although he was unsure of exactly what he should be looking for. “So this beast...er...spirit? Whatever you called it? You say you are not certain it will appear? How long should we expect to stay until we can reach a conclusive answer?”

Mipha’s eyes stayed fixed on the sky, searching for something that would complete the serene picture. “It is the spiritual form of a great goddess. If she should appear at all, it would help give confirmation...or more like a blessing, to a certain decision I must make.” The beauty of the night was laid out before them, but still, something was missing. After a beat she continued, “I should hope she should appear sometime tonight. They say she only rises just as the sun sets. However, if nothing changes by sunrise, we can return to the Domain immediately. I know you are always anxious about my wellbeing.” Mipha cast him another smile. That much was true, despite teaching her combat, the Sergeant, along with most of the royal staff, was always eager to have the princess safe in their company. Nonetheless, Seggin cocked a curious eyebrow. “Forgive me if it is not my place to pry, but the decision you speak of, what might it be?”

A silence fell once again. Telling him the full story would bring about a conversation she was not yet ready to have. She sighed. “I must...I wish to craft something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes...something very important to me.” Mipha looked at the ground, watching the foaming waves encircle her feet. “So, I must get a certain material from this spirit. Although, should she not appear, I shall take it as a sign that I must not pull through this...certain decision.”

Seggin narrowed his eyes. Though their dark complexion had often reflected the blur of war, he was still able to give a soft and kind gaze towards her. “For the sake of this decision, do you wish for this beast to appear?”

In the waters, Mipha watched her reflection. Her topaz eyes stared back at her, before being taken away by the tide.

“Yes.”

A silence returned once more between them. The crashing waves and whistling wind decorated the hours, with Seggin occasionally going back to feed the fire. The night continued to the point where both of the Zoras had leaned their tired weight against the large grey boulders across the rocky beach. The looming figure of Mount Lanayru continued, its shadow stretched across the bay. Mipha let out a sigh. One way or another, this night would decide her fate. And through the dark, she would see what the goddesses and spirits had planned for her future.

. . . . .

The hours merged, and the stars drifted across the skies. Seggin had offered to stay up and keep watch, but after about three hours, he too let his heavy eyelids droop. Mipha continued to stare at the sky, leaning her head against the large boulder.

Thoughts swirled around in her head. Perhaps she would not show up at all, it’s said that only those of pure intention and honest hearts would ever be graced with the presence of such a spirit. Mipha fiddled with her bracelet, trying to keep herself awake. Maybe this was selfish of her, forgoing the Zora monarchy for the sake of love. Sure, her father had told her to follow her heart, but what about everyone else? Even if they were to be together, there would always be a stigma, for an interspecies couple. Would the other Zora hate her? For choosing a Hylian over her own people? What kind of queen could lead a people that despised her.

Mipha sighed.

If the goddesses decide that we are not meant to be, then I guess I’ll just have to accept that I was not the one meant to bring him happiness...

She closed her eyes, escaping to happier memories, trying to keep the anxieties at bay. Everything may be stacked against her, but she was going to try anyway, for the sake of the warm feeling in her stomach. For the chance to look at his kind blue eyes for the rest of her life. For her restless soul that longed to hold him through every tender and terrible moment.

Mipha could already picture him, wearing the armour along with a rare and fantastic smile. Link’s sky blue eyes would sparkle along with the silver scale that Mipha herself would place. He’d be adorned with the helm and greaves, that would allow him to be by her side through the calmest and roughest of oceans and waterfalls. And the chest piece, the true symbol of a Zora princess’ love, would fit him perfectly. Yes, a perfect embrace that would protect him wherever their travels may take them. A soft smile crept onto Mipha’s face.

She sighed again. The prickling of heartache seemed to run all throughout her body, from her feet to her fins. All of the sudden, the smile slipped off of her face. Mipha held up her arm, examining her fin. It had glossy sheen, melding from a warm, honey color to a more striking lapis accent. It was thin, as all fins were, for the sake of cutting swiftly and speedily through the waters. Despite this, it dangled motionless, even her jewelry hung still, barely swaying from the movement of her arm.

Wasn’t the wind so much stronger a minute ago?

Indeed, the breeze abruptly had calmed, and her fin no longer flapped in the wind. Something was off, a cold charge seemed to ripple in the air. A new energy coarsed through Mipha’s body as she once again looked out towards the waters. At the end of the Lanayru Bay, closer to the rocky mainland, the waves had started to recede. Their once strong and lively motions now summoned towards something at the innermost part of the bay.

Mipha lifted her back off of the boulder, sitting up straight and observing the scene. And as if reacting to her movements, a sudden silence drowned the shore.

The winds stopped.

Then shifted.

Then rose.

A freezing air was washed over her, a strange hum filled bay. Getting on her feet, Mipha took up her trident cautiously. She searched the waters for whatever had moved the wind so suddenly. Perhaps a large octorok? A stray ice lizalfo cooling the breeze? She moved Seggin’s leg with the end of her trident. “Seggin, wake up. Something’s happening.” He let out a groan, mumbling something about never sleeping on duty. The princess turned towards the forest, scanning the trees for the snoring hinox that had made the evergreens shiver in the new wind. Or the frost talus that had made the temperature drop so quickly, she could start to see the breath in front of her face. But, there was nothing, and she turned back towards the sea, where the waves had started to move with new life. Mipha looked up.

Suddenly, she gasped. The sound was as swift as a common breeze, but with the sentiment of a last breath. All words escaped her, as it pierced the heavens. It seemed to wear a crown of frost and ice, but its brilliant size and majesty alone would command the attention of any army. The waves reflected its silver and arctic glow. The winds rose, the waves began to roar, the stars settled, and the sky was complete.

“She’s here.”

Naydra, the spirit of ice, the being of wisdom, the sacred servant of the goddesses, moved through the air, lowering itself from the glittering skies and moving towards the waters below. Even in the distance, the dragon’s golden eyes seemed to stare into her soul.

Mipha started to run towards the sea.

Seggin, who was jolted fully awake by her sudden movement, got onto his feet. “P-princess!?” Then, upon seeing the icy glow of a dragon in the distance, he stopped. A fear and silence gripped his throat, halting any attempts he made to move or speak. Still running towards the waters, Mipha turned back and shouted, “Just follow me! There’s no time to waste!”

Racing on top of a large rock, she crouched, then launched her weight and momentum towards the sky. Performing a graceful flip, she dove headfirst into the waters. The ocean enveloped her in a familiar cool embrace. Then, Mipha broke her head above the surface and started to make her way towards the dragon, kicking and swimming with all her might.

Naydra was closing in, drifting closer to Mipha with every passing moment. The way her long body steadily arched and curved, you would think they were going through nothing more than a leisurely stroll. Yet in reality, the dragon had traveled the length of one fourth of the bay in only a few minutes.  

Rapidly approaching her, Mipha could start to see the dragon’s reflection upon the water. It’s scales glowed like moonlight, emitting luminous blues and turquoise. The path of its flight was directly above the length of the bay, making its way towards the princess.

Mipha faced the spirit head on, checking the trident to make sure it was secure on her back. Then, she dove with incredible speed, letting the waters consume her.

The porgys hurried away, finding refuge in the nooks and crannies of the reef. The small, red, bioluminescent scales on her head glowed as she neared the dark depths of the sea. Then, Mipha channeled her built up momentum and forced herself back towards the surface, rising like a bird.

The water and droplets sprayed as she leaped, the freezing water dripping away as she was greeted by the cold air once more. At the arc of her breach, she quickly turned and faced upward. Mipha unhooked the Lightscale Trident. Aiming at the white scales that lined Naydra’s neck, she steadied her grip.

Naydra is here, which means there is still hope. Please, grant me your blessing.  

She thrust with all her might. The trident soared across the sky, twirling and shining like a star. The dragon drifted slowly, its eyes seemed to wander towards the flash of movement, observing the streak of white.

Crashing back into the bay with a splash, Mipha quickly blinked away the water and watched the trident's arc. It had reached the apex of its flight, nearly parallel with the dragon’s body.

At any moment it would make contact, it would pry a scale off, she just knew it...

...but then, its speed faltered, its momentum weakened, and slowly, the trident arched back down towards the sea, having struck nothing.

NO!

Naydra continued on her path, and the Lightscale Trident crashed into the open waters without a sound. The dragon was simply too high up, no spectacular dive, leap, or throw from these waters could get her where she needed to be.

Suddenly, Seggin breached the surface beside her. A swirl of worry and determination filled his eyes. “What are you doing?! Surely you don’t mean to kill it in order to get the material you need?”

“I-I need her scales, but she’s too high up! And my trident, it-it’s…” Mipha looked behind her, across the width of the bay to where it had sunk. That far out… the seafloor was probably much deeper over there. No, there was no time. She turned back towards him, almost frantic. “Seggin, you're a great swimmer, and you’ve taught me all I know, surely if you try you can strike the spirit, yes?”

Looking up at the beast, the Sergeant simply shook his head. “I’m sorry, your highness, but from these open waters, and at that angle? I’m afraid the Zora are not gifted with flight.”

Naydra’s presence drifted above them, the brilliant gleam of her scales now shone with a silent mocking. Was this really it? The spirits had decided to come, just to ridicule her desires? Just to tell her that it wasn’t meant to be?

Mipha let out a shaky breath. Watching the length of the dragon move across the night, she observed its path of flight once more. She let out another breath, more controlled this time. Naydra’s blue glow reminded Mipha of his eyes, and she found her resolve once more. Seggin watched her in silence for a moment. Then, he attempted to speak.

“Princess, if this is for—”

“Give me your spear.”

“P-pardon?”

“We can get my trident later, give me the spear.”

The Sergeant complied, removing his silver spear and handing it to her, but he shook his head.

“Mipha, you need to stop and focus. Neither of us have the strength to throw it that far up—”

“Talk and swim, Sergeant! Follow closely, we have to catch up.”

With that, Mipha began her journey down the course of the bay, following under the dragon’s shadow. Seggin followed on her left, but his face was still filled with worry and confusion. He attempted to open his mouth again, before Mipha held up a hand to shush him.

She spoke bluntly. “You have a strong grip, right Sergeant? You are capable of throwing many times your own weight, correct?”

The Sergeant frowned. Of course he could, he had handled great swords and claymores through the tides of several battles. When sparring with others, he could shove them aside easily. He wasn’t given the nickname “The Demon” for nothing. Mipha, whom he had personally trained with the trident, should know this most of all. Unless, she specifically wanted him to...

“Are you saying I should—”

“Yes. So can you do it?”

He hardened his gaze. “Even if I did get you to a proper height, your own aim must be more than perfect, and the aerodynamics of my spear are different. I’m sorry to be harsh, but I don’t think you can make such a precise shot on your first try.”

“That’s why I’m not going to throw it this time,” Mipha replied, her eyes still fixed on the dragon in front of them. “You told me to focus, right? Well focus on her,” she nodded towards Naydra, “The path of her flight is nearing the base of Mount Lanayru. No doubt, she will eventually make her way up towards its peak, as the keeper of the Spring of Wisdom. However, she has slowly been angling herself closer to the waters ever since she first arrived. While I’m not entirely knowledgeable on how dragons fly, I can only assume that before they can rise to such a height, they must lower and dive themselves to build up energy, similar to how we dive and leap out of the sea. I can only hope she will be low enough for my plan.” The princess turned her gaze to him directly.

“You will launch me in mid-air where the bay meets the ocean, just near the base of Mount Lanayru. There, with that added height, Naydra should be close enough to meet head on, and I shall loosen her scales myself with a direct strike from this spear”

Seggin could only gawk at her, staring in a shocked silence. His dark scales blended with the night. Then, after he seemed to process the full extent of her words in his head, his eyes gleamed, curiously. “You truly believe this shall work?”

Mipha turned her gaze back towards the bay, her topaz eyes brimmed with new fire and life. “We won’t know until we try.”

The two of them focused their attention towards the ocean, now putting all their energy into getting to the end of the bay as fast as possible. Mipha snuck a glance up at the dragon, they were catching up. They were now below her front talons, the ice emitting from their scales started to cool on the edges of her jewelry. The princess smiled.

I’m not giving up on Link just yet.

Finally, they approached the mouth of the bay. The shadow of Naydra’s crown spilled over their tiny figures. Seggin turned towards the princess. “This is it, are you ready?” Mipha looked up at the sky. The dragon’s snout was pointed towards the sea. She had thought correctly, it was much lower than before. However, they were barely ahead of the dragon, for no Zora could keep up with its legendary speed forever. It was now or never.

She checked the spear on her back, making sure the clasp was secure. Mipha gave a nod towards Seggin, and they both plunged into the sea.

They dove in perfect unison. Colorful arrays of fish hurried away at their presence. The glow of Naydra seeped through the waters, a murky light that cut through the inky darkness. Seggin allowed himself to move in front of Mipha. They continued their dive through the waters, their bioluminescent scales leaving a blur of soft reds and turquoise. Suddenly, Seggin shot up, shifting his momentum towards the surface. Mipha followed suit behind him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, ready to burst at any moment. Trailing his stream of bubbles, Mipha watched as the Sergeant breached the surface above her. Just a few more seconds, and he would be at the apex of his arc, and then—

Mipha shot up like a cannon, spraying water through the air. She didn’t have time to enjoy the sensation, as she reached out instinctively. Her arm and hand extended, grabbing at something unseen. Water was still in her eyes, but the cold force of air pushed them away. Then, she felt it, the slight warmth of another Zora, and latched on. With an iron grip, she closed her hand around the blur of black scales. The two of them locked forearms, and in midair, Seggin flung her momentum further into the sky.

The frost was now biting, it formed distinctive lines that danced and crept the length of her jewelry. Taking the spear from her back, Mipha looked up, still soaring through the air. She was met with a golden gaze.

Naydra had started to crane its neck skyward, its crown reflecting the winking stars. The ice spirit seemed to sigh, and another breath of cold air escaped her. The creature’s eyes were as large as the sun, specks of amethyst and pearl decorated the beast’s face. Mipha didn’t dare to breathe.

The spiritual form of the goddess shifted its golden eyes, and smiled upon her.

Reaching the peak of her arc, Mipha turned her attention back to the spirit’s scales. They gleamed white, and sparkled like stars. They were so close, just a few more moments, just another instant, and she could reach out and touch them. Readying her spear, she started to turn her body, spinning through the air. She laughed to herself, about the unimaginable situation she was in.

With a practiced and graceful spin, Mipha let out the last of her momentum in a swift slice of her spear.

At first, it seemed she had cut at nothing air…

Then, she felt it make contact.

The scales were as tough as metal, but smooth like a polished stone. The spin of her attack has struck perfectly on the underside, and pried a large scale from the dragon. This time, her laugh fully escaped her, echoing in the air. The scale plummeted through the night sky, leaving a glimmering trail like a shooting star. It crashed into the sea, but floated in the water, which perfectly reflected the dragon's glow. Seeing Seggin start to make his way towards the scale, Mipha turned back towards the dragon, still falling through the air. Naydra was now ascending at a steep incline, all of its body seemed to glow with a new aura, as if sensing the loss of one of its sacred scales. Mipha smiled at the spirit.

Thank you…

Then, she turned back, and prepared to dive safely into the water

A large splash, and the princess returned to the bay once more. Breaching the surface, she let out large breaths, and rubbed at the cold biting on her wrist.

Seggin made his way towards her, the large scale cradled in his arms. His mouth hung agape, he was at a loss for words. Mipha took the initiative to break the silence. “Here, your spear.”

Holding it out, Seggin took it with one of his arms, still careful to keep the scale from drifting away. The Sergeant let out a short laugh. “Your highness, that incredible move you performed, that spin attack? Wherever did you learn such a thing? It certainly wasn’t from me.”

A sudden blush formed on her face. Sinking into the water to hide it, she let out a little whisper. “Well, uh, just from a friend.”

He nodded, “Well, it certainly got the job done.”

Quickly changing the conversation, Mipha asked, “May I hold it?” Seggin gave another nod, and pushed the scale across the water, making its way into Mipha’s grasp. The scale was cool to the touch. Running her hand down it, it was slick in one direction, but brushing it the opposite way revealed tinier bumps in the scale. They glowed white, but reflected a large assortment of bright colors at certain angles. Mipha smiled, it was perfect.

Seggin let out a forced cough, breaking through Mipha’s thoughts. She smiled. “Right, come now. Let us return to the shore”

. . . . .

“So...you did it.”

Back at the shore, the sun had begun to rise, barely peeking above the ocean in the east. Seggin cast Mipha a warm smile. “I’m quite proud of what you’ve done today.” She returned his expression with a kind smile of her own. “I couldn’t have done this without you Seggin.”

She then went back to cleaning her Lightscale Trident. A few bits of seaweed were still tangled in its prongs, and wrapped around the hilt. Otherwise, it was mostly intact. The Sergeant gathered the last of the food and supplies littered about their campsite, before looking back at Mipha. He watched her tend to her weapon, sitting comfortably on the ground, with a small pile of seaweed at her side.

Finally, he decided this was as good a moment as any. Seggin sat in the grass with her. “So, who is the lucky guy?”

A sudden rush of red appeared on Mipha’s cheeks. “I, uh, I’m not sure I understa—”

He let out a scoff. “I suppose you picked me to accompany you since I didn’t pay the most attention to spiritual and ceremonial studies.” He shrugged his shoulder, “Which is entirely fair. A sergeant doesn’t improve his skills by listening to hour long sermons about the goddess all day.”

Seeing Mipha’s confused face, he let out a huff and continued. “Although, even I know about the tradition of the white scale. You said you wished to craft something...when the dragon showed up... well, I’m no fool.”

He looked at her, Mipha’s shoulder’s loosened in realization that he knew. “You’re crafting the sacred ceremonial armour for a royal husband, requiring a silver scale that only females posses, and the scales of a dragon, for both bless the wearer with the safety of both a Zora’s affection and the protection from the goddesses.”

Mipha sighed, before letting herself look at him. “Please know I didn’t mean any harm keeping this from you! I never thought you were a fool, I simply… well I respect you as my teacher and such… so I thought…um… it would be better I didn’t say anything...cause it would be better if…”

“If I stayed silent and didn’t ask questions about why we were battling a giant ice spirit?”

Mipha let out a sheepish laugh. “I suppose…”

He scrunched his brows. “Although, I am still confused as to why you were so wary about telling me, princess. Are you embarrassed by him? Is he a noble? A servant?” Seggin scratched his chin.

“..hmm, or perhaps this Zora isn’t a him at all. Unconventional, sure, but having two queens wouldn’t be a real issue, at least for me. If that was your concern, please know—”

“No, no! I mean, thank you, but it’s not that… it’s…” Mipha let out a shaky breath, “I wish to give the armour to that knight, Link”

His expression seemed to instantly harden at his name

“That...Hylian? The one set to become a Champion simply because of that sword on his back?”

“Yes, I mean, I’ve known him since childhood and—”

“The one who put you in harm's way when you both fought the Ploymus Mountain Lynel alone?”

“He slayed the beast and helped people! And I was there of my own volition.”

“The one who refuses to talk? Choosing to speak with his hands? Has the blank stare and shows no emotion or respect?”

“Well, he’s not—”

“The one who is supposedly going to spend his company with Princess Zelda everyday after the official Champion ceremony in a few weeks? That’s the boy you wish to be committed to?”

Mipha didn’t bother to answer. She turned her head away, not looking at him. This is exactly what she was afraid would happen. She clenched her fist, nails digging into her palm.

A silence sat between them. Seggin just stared at the bay.

Then, Mipha took a deep breath, before standing up. Taking her trident, she slammed the hilt down with a force that demanded Seggin’s attention.

“Alright, yes! Link might be some of the things you say he is, but he is so much more. So, so, so much more. You may look at him and just see another Hylian, but I have watched Link all of my life. I’ve seen the strength and will that rests behind his blade when he protects the innocent. I’ve witnessed the tenderness of his touch when he comforts those around him in his embrace. Oh Hylia, I’ve watched his recklessness as he explores the world and the Domain with not a care in the world, other than satisfying a curiosity. I’ve seen every scratch and bruises he’s taken from his childhood, and healed every scar and burn from his youth. But I have loved him all the same, because even after all these years, in his eyes is the same love and adoration that he saved for me and me alone. He holds a blank gaze for the sake of keeping up a careful confidence, but every time I see him he graces me with a fantastic smile. I’ve fallen in love, Seggin, alright? And despite my endless respect for you and everyone else, I do not care anymore. I’ve fallen in love with a reckless Hylian, despite the world around me. Despite my every duty as the heir to the throne, despite Link’s every fault, despite it all I’m going to choose to give in to my heart’s desires. I have healed his every wound, and taken his every flaw, because he is who I fell in love with, and my heart belongs to him.”

Mipha stared into Seggin’s eyes, her topaz eyes were filled with the same fire and life as she had back under Naydra’s shadow. The Sergeant’s dark eyes looked back at her. He got onto his feet, a hard expression on his face. Yet, his eyes twinkled with a new warmth.

“Then we best get a move on, and hurry back so you may give him your important gift.”

Turning back towards the campfire, Seggin went to fetch his spear, and started to snuff out the campfire. Mipha just stood there, bewildered. She watched as he continued about his routine, gathering his satchel and gear without another word. The princess strode towards him, confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you still against my feelings for Link? Aren’t you still mad that I’ve chosen him?” The Sergeant stopped, and turned back to face her.

“In truth, Princess Mipha, I will never understand the true extent of how you have fallen in love with that Hylian. However, what I know for certain is that that boy is a strong and accomplished knight. My son, Bazz, used to spar with him when he was little. He’s become exceptionally stronger, and just studying his movements with the blade, well… Link has a strength not just in his sword, but in his compassion, with the way he taught my son and others as well. In his younger day I could see the kindness in his eyes as he ran around, protecting his other friends in their little sparring games.

“Although he has changed much in recent years, in my opinion not for the better, hearing your words sways me to the fact that perhaps that same young Hylian still lives when around you. So I trust your judgement, Mipha.” He tilted his head to the side.

“This night has brought the best out of you, it’s brought out a level of skill, precision, and talent that I have not seen throughout all my life. I can only conclude that this is the result of your compassion and determination to be with this Hylian. So I do not think anything I could say will sway such a strong heart.

“You obviously already have your father’s blessing, and not that you need mine, but I think that so long as Link gives you the same level of protection and love that you have displayed, then you have my support on the matter.”

Now, it was Mipha’s turn to stand in a shocked silence. Although, the quiet did not last long as she pulled him into a tight embrace. Unsure of what to do with his arms, Seggin patted her on the back, his more grumpy and serious demeanor returning.

“But, you should probably still not tell the others immediately. I can’t imagine people like Muzu will have the exact same view as I do.”

She chuckled, “That’s the plan.”

Letting him go, she turned back towards the bay. Picking up her trident, she started to make her way to the waters, ready to head back to the Domain, and complete a certain task. Craning her head back towards the Sergeant, she added, “and...thank you, Seggin. Truly, for everything tonight.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“It was my pleasure.”