#heavy fucking metal is the law

[adriheavymetal]

And for the First time ever : a Photo of me here 😂📷⚡🤘💀 The owner of all the shit and crazy about metal ,horror ,games and movies 💯✌️

[milf-murdock]

Safety First

(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader 

Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it. Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌  A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.

Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.

Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.

“Hey—“ the deep  familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs. 

“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action. 

The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond. 

“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch. 

“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“

“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.” 

You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.” 

“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background. 

__________________

Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7. 

His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again. 

“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response. 

Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained. 

He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car. 

Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you. 

The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more. 

“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit. 

“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.” 

He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words. 

“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.” 

You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling. 

“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks. 

“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“ 

Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.” 

“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.” 

“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?” 

“Understood.” You sniffle once more. 

“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand. 

__________________

You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily. 

“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”

“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.” 

“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame. 

“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back. 

“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.” 

“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears. 

As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.  

You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was. 

Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.

But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace. 

Simon was going to teach you to shoot. 

______________

That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you. 

“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast. 

“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?” 

“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast. 

“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug. 

__________________

You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life. 

Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could. 

With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range. 

The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this. 

As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help. 

“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity. 

“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.” 

“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.” 

“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal. 

Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms. 

Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you. 

“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy. 

You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were. 

“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.” 

“But how did you—? Should I even—?”

“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.” 

You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.” 

“Good. Then let’s get after it.” 

He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears. 

“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses. 

Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.” 

“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.” 

Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies. 

“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.” 

His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?” 

You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—

“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.” 

You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”

“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.”  You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier? 

“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him. 

“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward. 

It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside. 

“Alright, she’s loaded now.” 

“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”

“Now you point and shoot.” 

“At what?”

“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley. 

“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest. 

Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track. 

“Better?” 

“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim. 

With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger. 

The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…

You’ve miss the target completely. 

 “S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles. 

“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.” 

You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level. 

“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”

“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly. 

“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.” 

You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot. 

“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.” 

You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim. 

A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger. 

This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.  

“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look. 

Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down. 

“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place. 

You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!” 

You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.” 

And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless. 

“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded. 

“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around. 

“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range. 

You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.

“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response. 

You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful. 

Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon. 

Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there. 

Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.  

“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon. 

The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop. 

“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs. 

Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop. 

You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height. 

“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need. 

His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs. 

He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh. 

You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.” 

His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core. 

Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him. 

Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure. 

His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take. 

His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low. 

“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?” 

You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him. 

“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm. 

“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan. 

“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock. 

You nod fervently. 

“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside. 

You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained. 

“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.” 

You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss. 

“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.” 

Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely. 

“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.” 

His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life. 

“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles. 

“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure. 

“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“

“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. 

“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out. 

“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple. 

You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours. 

You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive. 

“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.” 

You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.” 

Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. 

“Something like that, love.”

[sunshinescribes]

Hi Sunny!! So I can’t get the idea of Trafalgar Law waking up in the arms of his female crush or s/o (early on in their relationship) with his face buried in her chest as the reader pulled him into her cleavage in her sleep! In my mind I can’t decide if Law is shy or lowkey perverted! It all suits him well to me, so you do with that what you want.

So may I get something like that? It could be either fluff or a starter for smut I just would love to read something like this 😍

I hope I made sense and thank you in advance 💓💓

ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE…

Law doesn’t recall his bed ever feeling this soft and warm.

He also doesn’t recall ever having such peaceful sleep. The dark circles under his eyes and his tendency to be irritable are a testament to how often sleep evades him.

His eyes are still closed, his mind groggy but very much alert, and his body has yet to catch up. His limbs feel heavy, as if the simple act of lifting his hand would take all the effort in the world. It’s a strange sensation—would be fucking terrifying if not for the warmth that radiates through his body, an unfamiliar comfort that tells him everything is alright—he’s safe.

Law groans softly as sleep finally releases its hold on him. He blinks slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim light the lamp on his desk casts over his room. He’d forgotten to turn it off last night, pulling his usual all-nighter. He had been flipping through a medical textbook, his eyes heavy, words blurring and blending, and yet he couldn’t compel himself to go to bed.

And then a soft knock sounded at his door, accompanied by your voice, softly asking if he was still awake. He’d let you in with little convincing, and then…and…then?

Law nearly chokes when his eyes fully adjust, realizing his face is buried in your chest. Your softness, your warmth—this is what he was feeling, what had helped him stay in sleep's warm embrace. The missing memory finally comes back to him—you slipping into his room, scantily dressed. You’d made a beeline to his bed, patting the empty space beside you as you called his name. Lay with me for a bit? You’d asked so sweetly, with those pretty eyes of yours watching him, waiting expectantly. He had been slow to comply, but soon his book was forgotten, his chair empty as he laid down beside you. You had rubbed soft circles against his back and tiredly whispered, You gotta get some sleep, Doc.

And so he did.

Law carefully stirs, tries not to disturb you as you continue to sleep restfully beneath him. He can’t be caught with his face between your breasts like some kind of demented, sex-crazed pervert—no matter how unbelievably soft they are (and maybe he finally understands Black Leg’s obsession). Not that he’s opposed to sex, especially the idea of having it with you, but that’s a line you two haven’t crossed yet, and he’ll be damned if he looks like he’s trying to take advantage of you in your sleep.

He turns his head, accidentally nosing your breast in his failed attempt to move away. Law stills as noise escapes your lips, light and airy, and one of the most beautiful sounds he thinks he’ll ever hear—your laughter.

Law glances up at you, finding your pretty, tired eyes already trained on him, and the corners of your lips pull upward as you chuckle. He feels heat flood his cheeks, not knowing how long you’ve been awake or what you must make of his head still being positioned between your tits.

“Mornin’,” you greet him with a smile. “I think? I can never tell in this damn tin can.”

The quickly formulated explanations catch in Law’s throat as he blinks up at you, surprised you aren’t offended or even a little shocked with his current placement.

Relief washes over him in waves.

“If this was a tin can, we’d be food for sea kings by now,” he retorts, his voice thick with sleep.

You playfully roll your eyes—he’s so sensitive about his metal deathtrap—before lifting your hand to thread through his thick, dark tresses. “You know what I mean…”

Law hums contentedly as you massage his scalp, turning him boneless with your touch. It’s moments like this that he swears you have devil fruit powers—some kind of supernatural ability to completely dismantle his defenses. His eyes flutter shut as he basks in your touch—the softness of your flesh beneath his face and the soft patter of your steady heartbeat. He wouldn’t mind staying in this moment forever, far away from the threats that plague him and his thoughts.  

“Mind if we stay like this a little longer?” he asks—murmurs, as sleep extends a welcoming hand to him once more.

He can’t see your face, but he hears the smile in your voice when you answer. “As long as you need, Captain.”

ONE THING Y’ALL ARE GONNA LEARN ABOUT ME IS THAT IF I HAVE THE CHANCE TO WRITE FLUFF I ABSOULTELY WILL.

Thanks for the request anon! I hope you enjoyed!

[chuubian]

Kinktober week two:

Hot To Go!

Tags Boothill x fem saloon maid reader, his dick vibrates, drinking, semi-public

Summary A handsome cowboy walks into the saloon without any credits. Before you can kick him out and report him, he offers to pay another way.

The loud screeching of old hinges draws your attention out of your work and to the front door. A weird looking cowboy comes in. He's completely made of steel except for his pale face, it's like nothing you've ever seen before. His heavy boots bang against the decaying slabs of wood flooring, then he sits at the bar, staring silently— waiting for you to service him. Putting the glasses and rag down, you head over to him.

“Hello sir, what can I get you?”

“A double tequila, darlin’.”

You raise an eyebrow. That's it?

“Just tequila? nothing else?”

“I can handle it.”

You shrug, walking back to grab him a glass, pouring in two shots of the clear liquid and sliding it in front of him. He grins— sharp teeth taking you by surprise. Did he purposely sharpen his teeth? The man reaches for his glass, tossing it back and drinking the straight liquor easily. You cringe just watching him.

“You seriously drink like that in the middle of the day?”

“Oh it’s nothin’… ‘s like water to me.”

Nose scrunching in disgust, you recoil at the thought of it. It's like 2 pm who in the world would think to drink this. He chuckles at your expression, sitting up and leaning forward— cheek leaning onto his cold, metal fist.

“Shouldn't you be glad I'm here, darlin’? Good for business, isn't it?”

He looks around the empty room.

“I'm the only one here, that's money you wouldn't have made otherwise.”

So that's how he sees it huh…

“Then it's 30,000 credits.”

He pauses, eyes widening. The clanging of iron sounds through the room as he sits up straight.

“Ain't that a bit expensive, sweetheart?”

You cross your arms.

“That's the set price. If you're saying you can't pay, then I'm gonna have to get the sheriff over here.”

That seems to astound him. He immediately starts fussing, leaning over the bar to try and calm you down.

“Now, now dear… We don't gotta go that far! come on, I'm in town all the time, you know me right?”

“No i don't, I've never seen you here. I don't even know your name.”

Clunky metal fingers run through his black and white hair as he puts his hat down on the counter in front of him.

“Boothill. See? now you know me.”

“If you don't pay, I'm calling the sheriff over here. I'm not kidding.”

Sharp nails dig into the wooden counter— he leans back, thinking of ways to deescalate the situation.

“Why don't we find some other way to repay you huh? We don't need to get law enforcement involved in somethin’ so small right?”

You consider it. It's not like your boss would know anyways, it wasn't even that much alcohol.

“What do you have in mind?”

—————-

The wind gets knocked out of your lungs as Boothill drags his rough tongue over your clit. His sharp metallic claws dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, trying to keep your unruly hips still. A choked whine gets caught in your throat as he sucks harshly on the sensitive little nub— it's like barbed wire has been wrapped around your throat, constricting any sound that may escape.

“Aghh… f-fuck!”

The only response from him is a harsh bite to your inner thigh, before he dives back in. He's like a man starved, consuming you completely. A hot wet tongue makes its way down to your entrance, teasing and taunting, with the intention of pushing in.

Your fingers thread through his long, black and white patterned hair— pulling, out of necessity to keep your peace of mind. Boothill slips inside and an embarrassing squelch echoes through the empty saloon.

“Don't move.”

He warns, holding you up against the old bar. Practically all your weight is leaning on his kneeling form— your legs were trembling terribly, struggling to hold up properly. Gummy walls squeeze around his tongue, gushing out more slick. He lets out a low moan, enjoying the slightly bitter taste.

“Sooo good…”

His words slur together. One of his fingers finds its way up to your puffy, abused clit, drawing little circles. Sparks flash behind your eyes and guttural moans bubble past your lips.

“Nghh… B-boothill!”

This only seems to encourage him more. He drags his tongue back out of your entrance. Your pussy feels empty without him, clenching around nothing— already becoming used to the force against your walls. Tugging him closer, you grind your cunt down onto his lips, trying to get more. That's all you need, just a little more.

“Needy, huh?”

He chuckles, lips wrapping around your over sensitive clit, sucking and licking at it harshly. You double over, stomach and thighs tensing from need and overwhelming pleasure. His steel palms feel surprisingly warm against your skin, gently caressing instead of digging in like before.

“Mmmf..! O-oh god Boothill!”

Eyes watering, back arching, grasping and pulling at his long locks, you finally come undone. A loud ringing resounds through your head, leaving your brain fuzzy and confused. You don't even process what's going on until Boothill’s bulky hands are turning you around, pushing your chest down onto the old wooden bar.

“You ready?"

Icy metal presses against you from behind. His grip on your hips is painful— he's sure to leave marks and bruises painted across your skin. You open your mouth to respond, but before any words leave your lips, he pushes in.

You keen high in the back of your throat as his hips sink home. Squirming, you try to adjust to his cock. It proves to be an impossible feat- especially when you abruptly feel the vicious whirr or his dick against your walls.

"W-waaiit-"

You only manage to utter a single word of protest. As soon as it leaves your mouth, Boothill pulls his hips back and slams back in. Controlling himself is inconceivable at this point. He sets a brutal pace, grinding cock up into you, nails biting into your flesh.

All you could do was whimper and wail in garbled mumbles. He didn't stop even for one second. Your back arched, as your face was smushed against the counter— dragging against the old wood, scratching your skin.

"Fuck. sweetheart...."

He trails off, lost in the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his vibrating cock. Leaning forward, he nips at the shell of your ear. The sting only amplifies the feeling of immense bliss. Your legs shake with effort— it was like nothing you've ever felt before. Drunk off the sensation of him working himself in and out, your cunt clutching onto him- trying to suck him in.

It's all too much. Your eyesight is blurring and a lump forms in your throat. The knot in the pit of your tummy is straining and tensing. Boothill buries himself deeper, pelvis striking against the supple flesh of your ass. His cock is carving out a space for itself, pulsating against your walls.

"Hnngh.. B-boothil..."

His strong hand leaves your hips, settling itself on your shoulder, keeping you down.

"That's right sweetheart. Just like that."

All the blood rushes to your head as his dick thrust into your sweet spot. Your body is boiling— overwhelmed and about to burst. He doesn't stop, taking enjoyment in seeing you struggle. Slick is dripping down your pussy to the junction between you and the ruthless man. Your mushy walls make way for him, surrendering under pressure. All you can hear is a loud buzz, as your body focuses on the euphoria it feels under his expert touch.

Incoherent babbles erupt from your lungs. Your hips twitch, fucking themselves back on his cock mindlessly. He's getting desperate. Shocking cold steel presses against your back as the vibrations spread through your entire body. The knot forming in your belly bursts and fire flows inside your veins. The heat is sweltering and mind boggling.

Nails claw against the splintering wood, frantic for any way to hold onto your sanity. Your throat burns, lungs heaving and wheezing, desperate for air. Sweat drips down your forehead, glistening under the bright sunlight shining through the window.

The tremors in your thighs simmer down and Boothill pulls away, massaging your poor exhausted legs.

"How was that?"

You struggle to answer, but he wasn't really looking for an answer anyways. He helps you clean up— wiping the sweat and slick off your skin, dressing you tenderly. Making sure you look just as nice as when he first came in before anyone else walks in.

[swanscript]

in which you're aegon's legally-wedded and never-bedded wife - who cares so little for him that even he's noticed.

It is the hour of the bat, deep into the velvety night, and you'd had it all planned out. Your sheets are fresh. You've bathed in lavender scented water, and spent half the day drying your hair carefully by the fireside so it won't become ruffled. You've just slipped on a rose-coloured robe of the finest Dornish silk, and wriggled delightedly into bed when it happens.

The door to your bedchambers explodes open, and Aegon staggers in, roaring a drunken sea shanty.

Oh, how you hate men.

"So hey, the bonny sailors go

To Sothoryos with a rising 'ho'!"

"Aegon," you start, pushing yourself up on your pillows with the air of someone explaining something to a very stupid child. "It's late. I'm tired."

Aegon stops dead when he sees you, sitting prettily in his bed with your arms folded in bemusement. You don't think he expected to see you here. You often sleep in a different room, and when sharing his bedchambers you make it a point to keep him firmly on the other side of the mattress.

Aegon and you both know the castle staff whispers rumours of your strange and sex-less relationship. You don't care.

Aegon might, but you've decided not to care about him either. He's aware of your cold indifference - which is why he's so surprised to see you here.

"....well," he says, swaying where he stands. "If it isn't...my frigid lady-wife. Here to ice me out again?"

You don't rise to the bait. "I'm here to sleep. You're welcome to do the same."

"Oh, I'm welcome, am I? Welcome in my own bed?" Aegon hiccoughs, slowly undoing the clasps on his velvet jerkin. He lets it thud to the floor (you can bet a hundred gold dragons he'll trip over it first thing tomorrow) and begins to traipse your way. "Am I permitted to finally lay a finger on my lawful wife, or will she only let me hold her hand for appearance's sake at banquets?"

Hackles rising, you bite back at once. "Am I permitted to have a husband who doesn't fuck a different whore every night? Who doesn't reek of of alcohol? Am I permitted to not be abandoned each day for taverns and brothels? Am I permitted to sleep or must I take your leave for that too, lord-husband?"

If Aegon were sober, he might have a scalding remark in response. But the ale has filled his mind with mush, and all he can do is scowl and sulk. It doesn't please you to see him so miserable. Your heart isn't in the fight either.

Your husband thuds onto the bed with a heavy sigh, narrowly missing squashing you.

"...help me with the clasp then, if nothing else," he mutters, pointing at his bejeweled belt buckle.

Sighing, you concede, reaching forward and undoing the cool metal. It clicks apart under your deft hand, and you steal a glance up at your supposed husband.

Months of marriage, and the times when you've ever really looked at him are few and far in between. After a disasterous bedding ceremony and so many days of neglect, the two of you have learnt to not acknowledge each other's presence. As a result, Aegon's face never fails to stand out as unique to you.

Soft cloud of wispy silver hair. Eyes of pale amethyst. The classic Targaryen look - striking colour palette, ghostly shades of old Valayria. The hint of feminine features from his mother softens him. He looks lost now, his pouty mouth softly sagging with defeat. A little verbal joust with you has leeched all the revelry out of him. Right, now, soundly beaten as he is, Aegon is difficult to despise.

You tug the belt out of its loops and he mutters his slurred gratitudes.

"Can you do the rest on your own?"

He grunts in affirmative. You retreat back to your side. Both of you feel the invisible wall being drawn up between once more.

You know, when you really think about it, you suppose Aegon is a handsome man. When he's not drunk. Or bothering you just before you sleep with sappy, obnoxious questions.

"Do you love me?"

You stop in the middle of adjusting your coverlet. "What?"

Aegon is looking at you with not a hint of a joke in his eyes. He repeats the impossible possibility. "Do you love me?"

In daylight, you would have sneered at his question and swept off in a swirl of silk skirts to resume your royal day. Now, with moonshine softening the need for sharp exteriors, you decide to humour his question. No one is around to use your words against you, at least. You feel your guard lift an inch.

"Love you?" you ponder, leaning back against your richly embroidered pillows. "...I think I would be...distressed, if you died. But love you- I don't even like you." You glance his way, contemplating. "Yet."

Aegon looks at you with doubtful lilac eyes. "So there's hope?"

"Don't be too optimistic."

His face, already miserable with the weight of alcohol and fractured familial relationships, turns slightly more sour. You're not foolish. Aegon's agonies don't have much to do with you. His mother, hell-bent on making him king, and his brother, hell-bent on undermining and embarrassing him at every opportunity are his chief worries. You've never seeked to hurt him politically. But you've always remained distant, watching him carefully like a narrow-eyed cat and hissing if he gets too close. There's only so much your pride can allow after being man-handled into a strategic marriage so roughly.

But right now, weak and addled as he is, you can afford some kindness.

"Don't look so down, Aegon," you say softly. "Perhaps I'm Dorne. Eternally un-won by Targaryens."

The gentleness works - Aegon unticks like a clam and lets words come pouring out.

"I keep thinking... really feeling as though you would prefer my brother Aemond over me. Or that he would like you, at the very least. And that grasping bastard, Jacaerys." A flash of anger splits Aegon's face. "I see how he moons over you across the dinner table. Like he'd like you lay you out on his dinner plate and take bites out your skin. Take what's mine. My wife, by law if not by her own will. Mine. My skin. My soft, soft skin. I should kill him. Cunt."

Weak, you think, watching his messy torrent of emotions. Your father would have flayed you living for such risky honesty in a world so tightly controlled by reputation. Always say less than necessary. Never trust anyone, ever.

As it is, you carefully file this new information away in your head. Aemond desiring you in a marriage seems in line with his ambitious nature - your family's legendary wealth would serve him well. You doubt he cares for you as a person.

And Jacaerys.... you've seen him ogling at you a couple of times when you're really dressed to the nines, but you doubt it's anything worth thinking about. Men have always watched you in that hungry way. You have genetics to thank for that, nothing more. It doesn't aid you, ultimately.

Aegon is still muttering away darkly. "I should kill him. Cut off his riding chains so he goes screaming into the sea the next time he mounts his dragon. I think that'll fix him-"

"Don't think," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. "You're not particularly excellent at it, from what I've heard. I heard you thought Sir Arryk was a particularly buxom woman from behind."

Aegon sniffs. "An engraved band in his hair. What was he prettying up for, the flagstones in the corridors? I don't fancy a preening peacock guarding me."

"See, Aegon, you're lying again. And it's unneeded and strange. You were only drunk and made a wine-swayed misjudgement," you say wearily. "And you don't think he's a peacock. You think you're a peacock. You've been matching your socks with your shoes since the day I knew you."

Aegon laughs, soft and bitter.

"If you know me so well, why do you pretend your dislike is only from distance? ...you hate me because you know me. You've always...always hated me."

In sulking speech, Aegon has slowly tipped in your direction, his head inches from yours. He's too drunk and too non-commital to rearrange himself. You allow his hair to touch your silk sleeve. Pink fabric, his ash white hair fanning across it.

Then, without even really thinking or caring, you sigh and pull him onto your chest to hold him there like a babe.

"I've already said, I don't hate you."

Aegon is too drunk to jab or pull back. He lays there. You run fingers through his hair, smoothening the scattered strands into place, sorting his thoughts into neat furrows. Sleepy tears spread a wet spot onto your robe. You allow it, even through fuzzled bafflement at such weakness. What does he want, to suck on your teat? He's older than you, yet you're centuries harder. Aegon - too soft a boy for his over-reaching mother - falls asleep in barely sated turmoil, on your chest like a barely grown child.

You allow it.

[eustasskidagenda]

Hi! I love your writing! Can I ask some headcanons with Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Law et Luffy going to the beach with their S/O, please?? Tysm!

Hello sweet anon! Thank you for requesting, it was fun to write. Hope it will match your expectations ☆

☆ Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy & Law going to the beach with their s/o

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, Kid is cursing but I guess no one is surprised, Kid is a savage, really vague mention of sex for Sanji, slight cursing for Zoro + mention of alcohol,

WC : 2,3k

Kid

Heavy stomps, mumbling curses, regular sighs and grunts full of irritation. Yep. It was your idea to go to the beach. Kid would never go to the beach by himself because he hates all the screaming children and the sand between his toes. And, the sun could ruin his make-up. So he would act all grumpy, wondering what he has done to end up in such a situation. 

"Goddamn, y/n, come back, you didn't put your sunscreen" Of course Kid thinks about his skin all the damn time, he's such a beauty-influencer when it comes to make-up and skin care. If you neglect to apply sunscreen to your body, he will bark at you, grab you by the wrist, and do all the work himself. And then, you'll have to help him, especially when it comes to applying sunscreen to his back. He won't let you know he loves when you run your hands down his back and along his always tensed shoulders. 

"I've seen this place before you, fuck off!" While planting violently your parasol on the ground, barking to the poor innocent guy who tried to set his stuff at the place Kid noticed in first. "It's my beach."

He's so possessive with everything, help.

Actually, Kid likes one thing about the beach: he can brag about his big man boobies. No shirt, just his glorious bare, toned chest. Every time someone looks at him with jealousy or admiration, he feels so proud; his ego is never satisfied with this. He's perfectly aware of how shaped his torso is, and he's really proud of it. 

Every time someone looks at your body, he feels really pleased with himself. Even if they try, they won't be able to have you. But on the flip side, he's also upset when he realizes that everyone can see your beautiful shapes. His arm would be wrapped around your waist. All. The. Time. 

Kid being Kid, he would smash all the sandcastle made by the children. Prepare yourself to get in trouble with all the mad parents around there, while their children are crying because "the big scary man told me I'm a piece of shit who don't even know how to build a sandcastle" You better watch Kid tightly before he stuffs their mouths with some sand to make them shut up.

"Come on Kid, it's just a child." 

If you try beach sports, he will make everything a competition. Avoid playing volley beach with him, because if you team up and lose, he will smash the ball into the winner's face. "Now who's the loser?" 

If someone tries to sell him an ice cream, he would scowls madly. Does he look like someone licking some fucking ice balls full of sugar? Ugh. It's so ridiculous. 

He doesn't wear armbands because he thinks he's too good for them. "I don't care if I can't swim, I won't use those damn armbands." 

Honestly, Kid hates how weak he is in the water, so he would stay away from trouble. The ocean makes his voice weak, even his strength is leaving him. And, even if his eyeliner is waterproof, he doesn't want to risk ruining his make up. "I fucking hate water" 

Would end up using his DF to find some metal around and build something with it while you're swimming. It looks like he doesn't care, but secretly, he watches to make sure you're safe. And if you're drowning, then, he'll run to save you so yes, congrats, now you're drowning together. 

Luckily, Killer is not too far.

Killer deserves a break.

Sanji 

Oh, damn... going on a beach date with Sanji is not a good idea. All the women in swimsuits would overwhelm him. Sanji, as he is, wouldn't be able to handle all the women around him, even though you are the prettiest of all the people around.

But the moment you take off your clothes and replace them with your swimsuit, his eyes would be on you all the time because you're the most mesmerizing person in the whole universe. 

He's so proud to introduce you as his s/o to absolutely everyone, yes, even that one person sleeping peacefully under their parasol. "Have you seen how beautiful y/n is?" 

Of course, he would help you apply sunscreen to your skin. Enjoy the massage because his hands are so heavenly smooth and divine. He would clearly take advantage of the situation to place some soft kisses along your collarbone, shoulders, neck, jugular, and down your spines. 

It's clear that Sanji brought his own food to the beach. You can enjoy fresh drinks, ice cream, waffles, cakes, fresh salads, and juicy fruits just for you. He wouldn't let you buy some ice cream from the trader because it's probably disgusting, full of sugar and chemicals. Your body is a temple and cannot be contaminated by non-premium quality food. 

He's probably causing the parents to be angry because he's smoking. But Sanji is nice, so if it was asked politely, he wouldn't mind stubouting his cigarette. 

While you're tanning under the parasol, Sanji is probably laying next to you, with a book explaining all the fish he could buy in the town. 

If you decide to go swimming, of course, he's going with you. As the kind person he's, he wants to make sure you're safe, and if you uncomfortable with your body, he wouldn't mind using his own body as a shield, so no one but he can look at you. 

He's a pure romantic, so prepare yourself for some lovely hugs in the water, with him holding you tight and his hands roaming all over your wet skin. Sweet kisses on your neck. He's not against taking things further, but he's romantic and all the screaming children are ruining the mood. But during the night... yes, he's definitely not against swimming at midnight. 

And if he finds some ugly, green, gummy seaweeds, then, he'll take them back to the Sunny. "Marimo, don't let your children alone at the beach."

Zoro

"Oi, y/n, where are you?"

Well, have you already seen Finding Nemo? Remember about Marlin always asking "HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON?" Now, you're Marlin and Zoro is your Nemo. 

Do not leave him alone for more than two seconds. Do not leave him buying ice cream for the two of you. Otherwise, the date is ruined. The only thing you will do is ask everyone 'Have you seen a big man with big boobs and green hair?' 

Maybe he'll find the one piece before the end of the day.

"I wasn't lost, your indications weren't clear." 

Zoro's obliviousness means you need to pay close attention to him. Stay close to him and everything will be okay. He's in good shape, so people are probably looking at him with admiration, jealousy, or whatever thoughts come to mind. But he doesn't give a damn, and is probably thinking people are looking at you because you're mesmerizing in your swimsuit. 

He doesn't care about the people wearing swimsuits around him. It's not an event for him. "I won't nose bleed like this shitty twirled-brow." 

He thinks the beach is a good opportunity to train himself. While you're relaxing under the parasol, he's training in the sun. Burpees, push-ups, and even some yoga are used to work his breathing and stability. 

Once he's done, he's all sweaty and wants to swim a bit. If you don't follow him, he'll be swimming until he finds a new island. 

If you're too lazy to swim, he'd be okay with carrying you. If a jellyfish tries to bite your thigh, then, the poor creature is doomed and would end up as a dinner for the crew when you'll get back to the Sunny.

He prefers alcohol over ice cream, of course. It's the best thing to enjoy after swimming and training. While he's drinking, he likes when you rest your head against his chest. On the other hand, he's a bit flustered because Zoro cares about his privacy. But you're too cute, he can't push you away. 

Arms wrapped around your waist while you sleep together. Perfect date for Zoro: training and restlessness. No one would dare trying to steal your stuff because Zoro is used to standing guard on the Sunny, so he would react really quickly. 

At the end of the day, he got the biggest sunburn ever because he forgot to apply sunscreen. Poor Zoro.

Luffy

It's like going to the beach with your overly excited dog. 

He's yelling excitedly, jumping everywhere, laughing loudly, and oh, good luck, he's already running away. You tried to catch his wrist, but it just stretches his arm beyond its limits. Good luck in finding him. 

Well, honestly, if you want to find Luffy, just try to figure out where the food is. He's probably eating some waffles and ice cream, or more precisely, emptying all the stands of their food. 

"Oh Y/N, you're here?" He speaks with his mouth full, obviously. 

Luffy is selfish with food, but he would let you have the last waffle because he loves to see you smile. 

As Zoro, he doesn't give a damn about people in swimsuits. 

If a child has a better rubber ring than him, he's sad. "Y/N, we need to buy a better one! What about this one?" While displaying an extravagant beetle rubber.

He's so happy, with it. Prepare yourself to pull him out the water because while he's watching to find some fish or play with some seaweeds, he would end up falling overboard like the overexcited child he's. 

But drowning wouldn't destroy his joy. Be ready for the sandcastle episode after the rubber ring one. He wants to build the best one. But have you seen his nonexistent artistic skills? His creations wouldn't look great, that's all we can tell. Please, help him building a pretty sandcastle, he's so sad. Poor baby.

"Don't get a sunburn, y/n." While lending you his straw hat. 

"Y/N, have you seen those crabs? Y/N, have you seen how funny this seaweed is? Y/N, have you seen this stone? Oh, Y/N, this cloud looks like Zoro, don't you think?" 

He wants to catch all the crabs and winkles he can find. And would probably end up organizing a crab fight. If his favorite one loses, then the poor baby will be sad again. He's so fluffy when he pouts.

He is eager to try and do everything with you. So you better follow him, because going to the beach with Luffy means you'll never be able to rest peacefully under the parasol. He's too energized to sleep peacefully. 

And if you're sleeping, he would bury you under the sand, so when you wake up, your body is totally covered up, the only thing you can do is moving your toes and head while Luffy laughs loudly and proudly. His laugh is so endearing, you can't be angry with him.

"Gum-Gum… ice-cream stolen" 

Prepare to run away from the guy who is mad at him.

Overall? Not relaxing at all, but funny as hell.

Law

If Luffy is like an overexcited dog, Law is like a cat forced to bathe. Have you already tried bathing a cat? Do you end up with scratches? It's nothing compared to Law.

"Bepo, don't sharpen your claws on the deck!" "What? But it's not me. It's Law, Y/N decided to bring him to the beach. They had to drag him to the ground. 

Yes, Law probably hates the beach. It's a noisy place with noisy people, the food smells bad, the children are annoying, and the sand is irritating. And please, the sea is like the toilet for the fish and all those disgusting people. He's so pissed off to be here. 

"Why me, Y/N-ya?"

"Aren't you happy? The sun is beautiful today! You need to take some breaks from your work." 

His sole response would be an annoyed scowl. 

Ain't no way for him to wear a swimsuit. He's conserving all his clothing, even the hat. And he's standing under the parasol with his arms crossed. All the people around are probably avoiding him, and that's for the best because a 'room, shambles' could happen really fast if they dare to make a comment about his non-appropriate clothes. 

Law would remind you to apply sunscreen on a regular basis.  And he wouldn't mind applying it himself. He loves the feeling of your skin against his palms, it feels like heaven. 

He would remind you to drink water frequently. And to wet your neck before swimming. Certainly, he's watching closely the entire time. He may be mad, but he cares about you. Prepare yourself to have a shadow following you everywhere. If you're too far from him, he'll use his DF to bring you back to him.

"Please, help me, my child needs a doctor!" He's annoyed as hell. Even at the beach, work is still pursuing him. Of course, if someone asked for a doctor, he would help. He's frustrated because he can't take care of someone and keep an eye on you at the same time.

If you give him onigiri, he will look like a child: pouting while eating silently. 

"Y/n-ya, don't touch this, it's a toxic seaweed.", "y/n-ya, come here, you have to stay hydrated."

He would lend you his own hat if you forgot yours, while he's standing under the parasol. "Do not lose my hat." 

No swimming for him. He'll stay away from the cursed water. Just like Kid, ain't no way for him to wear armbands. And if you Try to throw some water on his face, he would look like a wet cat: shocked and angry. Beware, he yowls.

Overall? You had fun. And even if Law acts annoyed all the time, secretly, he would love to have a break day with you.  On his desk, he would keep the beautiful shell you found on the beach and give it to him.

[littleredgun]

Worship - Part Two.

18+ - better not see any of you minors knocking around here.

Warnings for all chapters: Established relationship, female reader, pet names, swearing, guns, violence, restraints, NOOSE, chloroform, knives, death, blood, angst, fluff, SMUT, soft Jason, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size difference, size kink.

I do not own any of the characters in this fic and GIF is not mine, credit to the owner!

My work is not to be translated, copied / posted anywhere else!

Part One

It was getting late and Jason couldn’t feel his fingers so he called it a night. He radioed Dick and told him he was done. He revved his bike and raced home to you. Only, when he got there, there was no trace of you. Furniture strewn across the apartment, curtains hanging by a thread and spatters of blood…everywhere. His blood ran cold as he stood in the middle of your shared apartment looking for clues as to where you could be.

His heartbeat boomed in his ears as he took tentative steps towards the bedroom. “Baby?”, he called out. “Stop playin’ games. You’re scarin’ me”. Silence. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s when he saw it. A pool of blood and a rag. Written on the wall in blood were the words. “ HA HA HA”.

“Joker”. Jason threw up, the fear was eating him alive. That bastard killed me with a crowbar, god knows what he’ll do to her. He took off, thundering footsteps echoed through the tiny apartment block. His motorbike roared to life as he sped to the one place he knew you would be.

He broke all sorts of traffic laws but he didn’t care. He needed to get to you. The stench of blood, sweat and gunpowder assaulted his nose the moment he stepped foot in the warehouse. His movements were calculated, silent. He took down goons one by one. His breathing was steady until he heard you. A piercing scream that made his mouth go dry.

“Please, please stop”, you begged, only to be met with manic laughter. Jason knew that laugh well. “I’ll give you anything you want! Please stop”. Another blood curdling scream followed by the sound of gurgling. “Anything I want? Does that include the Red Hood?”. Through heavy breaths you managed to speak. “No. Anything but him”. Jokers crowbar clanged against the metal walls as he spoke. “Oh I think you will…Little”. His words were like salt in a fresh wound. “H-how’d you know that?”.

That spine prickling laugh found your ears once more. “That would be telling, wouldn’t it? Now, how about you meet a friend of mine, hm?”. Joker swung the crowbar in the air like a golf club ready to crack down on your head, his laugh echoed through the room like a taunt.

Then it all went quiet. You braced yourself for the impact of the heavy metal but it never came. Everything sounded fuzzy as a familiar distorted voice called out to you. “Baby?! Are you alright?”. More green and purple goons appeared and set their sights on Jason, he fought them off with might, dropping them one by one like sacks of bricks.

Adrenaline finally wearing off at the presence of Jason, you slipped in and out of consciousness. The attempt to watch the fight and guide him in some way was poorly executed. You couldn’t speak, it like your words were being held back by something tight around your neck.

Sounds of splintering bones and spattering blood accompanied by Jason’s uncontrolled breathing filled the room. Just one left, then I can take you home.

The last big, stumbling goon headed for Jason. With his last drop of energy, he took him down. He fell to his knees and coughed. A faint whimper caught his attention and his eyes darted to you. Tied up on a splintered wooden chair and a noose around your neck.

All the adrenaline shot back through his body, he untied you and removed the piece of rope from around your neck. “Baby, sweetheart, it’s me. You’re safe”. You threw your arms around his neck and he picked up you. He carried you out of the warehouse into the stormy weather. “We’re goin’ home, princess”.

[markscherz]

A friend of mine sent me a yt video of a guy who was relocating frog eggs (prolly a vernal pool) and showed 1000s of baby frogs coming out of the water in his backyard. she asked me how I felt about it as a ecologist. I felt like it was irresponsible to do, especially to post videos on it, but probably not "ecological terrorism" like people in the comments were saying, because I see baby frogs in nature come out of water in hoards sometimes too. Kind of a mixed bag.

But I wanted to ask you, since you're a herpetologist and waaay more experienced than me: how do you feel about the yt channel "frog army YouTube"?

Many frogs and toads are classical R-strategists. Some toads can lay 20+ THOUSAND eggs in a single clutch. The whole point of that strategy is that not all of the offspring survive. In fact, it would be really rather bad if all of the offspring were to survive, because (1) they wouldn't be feeding the predators and decomposers that live off of their noble sacrifice, and (2) they will require massively more resources than they otherwise would. It can have all kinds of detrimental down-stream effects.

This is the reason we often see swarms of tadpoles darkening some small pools (especially ones where there are no fish!), and later hoards of froglets (that's the technical term) emerging from pools at once. It's an evolutionary strategy, that only few individuals survive to achieve reproductive age.

Point 1: it is *fine* if not all the tadpoles survive to adulthood. That's how the system is supposed to work. You are not doing the system favours if you are changing tadpole survivorship to 100%.

Now, humans really are fucking things up in a lot of environments. Environmental pollutants, like heavy metals, can cause major issues for wildlife, and especially frogs, which (1) are not as vagile as e.g. birds and medium- to large-sized mammals and thus cannot escape the problem zone effectively, and (2) are EXTRA sensitive to the environment because of their permeable skin.

Point 2: we do have some responsibility to do something if we notice that there is a major problem emerging, which could dramatically alter the population dynamics for one or more generations of frogs.

However, *moving* clutches of eggs that are found in polluted pools is not the right move, especially for your average person. There are many reasons that it is not the right move, but chief among them are

(1) A lot of frogs that lay eggs in vernal pools have tadpoles that cannot survive being in larger ponds, and certainly cannot survive in streams or other bodies of flowing water.

(2) A lot of frogs that lay their eggs in vernal pools are already adapted to less than ideal conditions, and have excellent strategies to overcome those conditions, such as incredibly quick metamorphosis (sometimes just a few days!)

(3) By moving clutches of eggs, you could easily be moving the pathogens or pollutants that are causing the problem in the first place.

(4) If there is Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis fungus around, you are spreading chytrid, and that is VERY bad. Chytridiomycosis has already driven several frog species to extinction, and caused massive population collapse in several others.

(5) If you do not know the species, attempts to rescue them might be aiding the advance of an invasive species.

(6) It's often illegal to intervene! Many species are protected by law, and you are not allowed to remove them from the wild. Consult your local laws.

Point 3: the responsibility to do something does not include removing the frogs and raising a frog army.

So what should we do if we find a clutch of eggs in an oily pool? Or in a nearly dried out puddle?

First assess the nature of the problem. Is the pool just about to dry out? Then leave it alone. The tadpoles will probably be fine (and if they're not, they'll provide rich nutrients to predators and decomposers). But are there signs of pollution? Then assess: is the pollution covering a larger area? Or is it localised? If you find dead frogs or other amphibians is a major warning sign, and it needs to be brought to the relevant authorities. Contact your local environmental agency/department, and notify them of the precise location of the problem, and its extent. Document everything with photos and videos.

Point 4: there are organisations and agencies specifically tasked with intervening in cases of environmental damage. It is *your* job to bring it to their attention, but unless instructed by them, you need not take any further action. It is their job to know what to do, and to take appropriate action.

TL;DR: 'Raising a frog army' is for the likes, not the frogs, and is not environmentally responsible or ethically defensible. Build a home for the frogs, and they will come.

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | chapter four

Summary: The journey to Madripoor.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Captain America: The Winter Soldier. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout. Zemo.

Word Count: 1148

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A/N: If I didn't split this episode up then this chapter would have been too long for my brain to be okay with. The next one is gonna be looooong.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos |

Strolling down the prison corridors, the sterile white tiles and harsh fluorescent light amplified a feeling of isolation, as well as a headache. “I’m gonna go alone,” Bucky admitted, addressing both you and Sam. Just as Sam questioned his decision, you objected with a firm “No,” as your mind went back to the last time Bucky was alone with Zemo.

“You’re an Avenger. You know how he feels about that.” Bucky continued, answering Sam's question as he shot you a warning glance that silently said, “Don’t push it,”. You didn’t say anything else while he gave Sam more reasons for him to go alone, you let out a sigh as you watched him leave. 

Anxiety began to rise throughout your body as you stood waiting, Sam sensed your apprehension about the return of The Winter Soldier. “He’ll be alright,” he said as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder in reassurance. 

Your hand instinctively reached up to rub your neck as you responded, “I’ll believe it when he comes back and doesn’t attempt to kill me,” your memories flooded with your first encounter with Bucky. “Again.” 

That day on the bridge changed you. Never before had you been on a mission that came so close to disaster. His right hand effortlessly closed around your neck, you tried to fight back with punches, and kicks and even tried reaching for your gun. He maintained a distance that prevented you from gaining any ground. 

Just in the last second, the shield slammed into his back, which forced him to release his grip, sending you tumbling to the ground. 

~

Your eyes sparked with relief at Bucky’s return, and his expression mirrored yours. You suppressed the urge to rush forward and embrace Bucky, absent from The Winter Soldier. As he walked over to you, he instructed you and Sam to follow him. 

Guided by Bucky, you ventured into the dimly lit garage, relying on flashlights and Bucky’s hand to navigate. You reached for it the second you stepped into the darkness and stuck close to him as he and Sam debated the merits and risks of freeing Zemo. The tension in the air kept you silent until Bucky located the light switch. With a sigh of relief, you exhaled deeply. As you relaxed into the newfound brightness, you slipped your hand out of Bucky’s. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Bucky retorted to Sam. Recognizing his tone of voice, betraying his statement, you knew he had indeed done something. Concern gripped you as you wondered what it could be. Your attention was focused on him as he outlined a plan to free Zemo.

Startled by the door slamming shut, you instinctively moved toward the source. To your surprise, it was Zemo. He strolled into the garage as if it was his own. Maybe it was? “What the fuck, Bucky?!” you exclaimed, joining Sam in a heated exchange with Bucky about this turn of events. As Zemo attempted to interject, all three of you shut him down with a simultaneous “No!”. 

“When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you both backed him. You both broke the law, and you stuck your necks out for me.” Bucky shifted his gaze between you and Sam, the weight of the past heavy in your eyes, tears threatening to spill. “I’m asking you to do it again.” he pleaded, his gaze softened as he looked down at you, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You nodded, affirming your loyalty to Bucky as Sam commanded rules to Zemo before agreeing. 

~

Sitting on a private jet beside Bucky and across from Zemo felt surreal. Their casual conversation with Sam about Marvin Gaye seemed out of place, prompting you to feign sleep, keeping your eyes closed for most of the journey. Your attention snapped back to them when they mentioned Madripoor, the destination you headed to. Intrigue sparked within you as Zemo started the topic of disguises. They have secretly been one of your favorite aspects of being an agent since the beginning. 

“Don’t touch her,” Bucky’s voice growled a warning, causing you to snap out of your feigned sleep. You opened your eyes just in time to see Zemo reaching towards your shoulder. Grateful for Bucky’s protective instinct, you glanced around feeling disoriented. Bucky was almost on his feet, presumably to stop Zemo physically. 

“Apologies,” Zemo directed to Bucky, who seemed to calm down after Zemo retreated. Zemo then brought his attention back to you. “I have picked out a dress for you to wear, Agent, to blend in,” he gestured toward the door of the jet’s toilet.

~

Unzipping the dress bag, you were surprised by the beautiful red material and its intricate details. Who would have thought Zeemo had such good taste? Without any hesitation, you shed your casual yet tactical wear and slid into the dress. You admired how it hugged your body perfectly. Rushing to see the final look, you adorned yourself with the accessories he had chosen as well. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, you revealed your new identity to your team, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo. Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise, Sam whistled appreciatively, and Zemo offered a polite nod of approval.

“Not a chance,” Bucky’s voice cut through the moment, his gaze bore into you as you walked out wearing the red dress, its neckline plunging and the hem barely covering anything below your waist, your back exposed. 

Confusion flickered across your face as you turned to him, he was looking you up and down with only his eyes still seated. “Excuse me?”

His jaw tensed as he continued to assess your appearance, “You’re not wearing that,” he stated firmly.

Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “And, since when did you get an opinion?” you shot back, defiance in your voice as you met his gaze. 

The tension on the jet thickened as Bucky maintained his stance. Sam sensed the conflict brewing, he decided to step in and attempt to diffuse the situation. 

“Okay, let’s just take a minute,” He interjected, his voice was calm yet authoritative. “We’ve got more important things to worry about-”

“I’m serious,” Bucky interrupted, insisting you wouldn’t be wearing the dress. “You’ll draw too much attention.”

“This dress will not compromise the mission,” you began, your voice steady. “I’ve been in the ‘arm candy’ role for Steve enough to know what I’m doing.” you noticed the shift in his demeanor as his body tensed at the thought of you and Steve being perceived as intimate.

Sam nodded in agreement with you, “She’s got a point, Bucky,” Sam interjected, affirming your statement. He had witnessed this act on a few occasions now to know you’re right. Bucky hesitated, torn between his protective and possessive instincts over you or respecting the supposed end of your so-called relationship. After a moment of silence, a begrudging “Fine.” cut through the tension.

---

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[gliphyartfan]

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

Another rewrite! …Why do I focus on rewrites?

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

So enjoy!

Which bit is this rewrite? The Wedding bit!

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

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

….

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

…(meh, later)

Enjoy my pretties!

—————

—————

‘I’ll be fine, guys!’

She totally should have seen this coming.

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

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

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

Of course, something like this had to happen.

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

‘This. fucking. sucks!’

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

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

But by the second hour...

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

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

‘That wasn’t a request.’

‘...What—?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guards.

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

‘Shit.’

She held her breath as they neared her hiding spot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His companion laughed, “I hear you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I need to get out of here. Now.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

——

“WHERE. IS. SHE?!”

“Link, please—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And Time, Wild, and Legend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wind shot Hyrule a look. “Let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

——

——

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

—-

—-

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

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

The Duke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——-

——

——-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

—-

——-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re onto us,” Hyrule whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

——

——-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes snapped open.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

——

——

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

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

But something was off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

She had been wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

She had been so terribly wrong.

——-

———-

——-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

——-

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Legend. Hyrule. Wind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

——-

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

---

——

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

It was the scent that helped her settle further.

Of hounds and goats, and forests.

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

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

“Atta girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time gave him a brief, approving nod before turning back toward the room. As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll tell her you went to patrol around the building for a moment,” he said. “Take this time to calm yourself before you come back.”

Warriors said nothing, but Time could sense the gratitude in his silence. With a final glance, Time returned to the others, leaving Warriors alone with his thoughts, the faint light of the castle still casting its shadow over the town.

———

——

———

The room was still as her voice faded. (Y/n) slowly lowered her fist, her chest rising and falling as she took a deep breath. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That. Felt really good," she muttered under her breath.

Zelda, standing beside her, let out a short huff of amusement. "I’m sure it was," she said, her tone light, though her eyes stayed fixed on the Duke, who was still staring at (Y/n) in disbelief, his cheek already bruising. The silence stretched, the tension in the room palpable as all eyes turned toward the disgraced nobleman.

Zelda straightened, her expression hardening as she addressed him. "I have several questions, Duke," she began, her voice cold but measured. "How exactly did you think this plan of yours would work? Kidnapping someone of her standing, did you truly believe you could force her hand in marriage and no one would question it?"

The Duke's face twisted, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Warriors stepped forward, cutting him off with his own biting words. "Your plan had more holes than you realized," he said coldly. "The marriage wouldn’t have lasted a moment once it was discovered that she was unwilling. You thought bribing officials and keeping her hidden would fool us forever?" He shook his head, disgust coloring his voice. "It was only a matter of time before it unraveled. You were a fool if you thought otherwise."

The Duke’s face turned a deep shade of red, his fury rising at being called out so plainly. His hands clenched at his sides as he shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "You dare speak to me this way? I demand reparations for this grave insult!" he shouted. "This slander against my name will not—"

Before he could finish, Impa stepped forward from the shadows, her voice calm but lethal. "Slander?" she echoed, her gaze sharp. "I hardly think so, considering what we found in your quarters. Documents, letters, correspondence with bribed officials. You paid them to turn a blind eye, to pretend they hadn’t seen her."

A murmur rippled through the room as the weight of Impa’s words sank in. The Duke’s face paled, his fury giving way to panic as he realized how exposed he truly was. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, his rage crumbling into disbelief.

Warriors’ expression darkened, his icy gaze settling on the Duke. "You’re finished," he said simply, his tone unforgiving. There was no satisfaction in his voice, just a cold, calculating edge.

For a brief moment, Zelda’s face flickered with something close to shame. She quickly masked it before the Duke could notice, turning her attention back to him, her voice steady. "Your actions have consequences, Duke," she said, her tone regal and final. "And you will face them."

Zelda's expression remained steely as she turned her cold gaze back to the Duke. "The officials you bribed will suffer the same fate," she said icily, watching as the color drained from the Duke’s face. "Their involvement in this conspiracy will not go unpunished."

The room seemed to grow colder, tension thick in the air. Zelda shifted her focus to (Y/n), her voice softening, though still serious. "While we all know the answer, (Y/n)," she began, "I must still ask you formally, was it the Duke who orchestrated your abduction with the intent to force you into marriage?"

Without hesitation, (Y/n) lifted her chin and answered firmly, "Yes."

Zelda gave a short nod, her expression one of grim determination. "Then it is decided. I will arrange for the Duke’s immediate departure." Her tone left no room for argument, her words carrying the full weight of her authority as the Princess of Hyrule.

The Duke, suddenly realizing the gravity of his situation, surged to his feet, his face red with fury. "You can’t do this!" he bellowed, his voice shaking with desperation. "I demand—"

Zelda didn’t flinch. She stared down at him, her icy gaze unyielding. "You are no longer welcome within the borders of the Hyrule Kingdom," she declared, her voice as sharp as a blade. "From this moment forward, you are outlawed and forbidden from ever returning to our lands."

The Duke's face flushed a deep crimson as Zelda's words cut through the room. His composure cracked, and he shot to his feet, voice trembling with barely contained fury. "You can't do this!" he bellowed, slamming a fist onto the table before him. "I demand reparations for this insult! I am a noble of considerable standing! You cannot simply throw me out like common filth!"

Zelda, unimpressed, remained calm, though her eyes blazed with cold authority. "Your title means nothing when weighed against your crimes. Hyrule will not be blackmailed by the likes of you."

The Duke’s lip curled in disdain, his tone shifting as he desperately tried to appeal to reason. "This is all a misunderstanding! I was only thinking of the kingdom! A union with someone as... independent as Lady (Y/n) would have strengthened ties. I saw an opportunity to guide her, to help her understand the complexities of noble life. It was for the good of the realm—"

"Forcing someone into marriage is hardly a diplomatic solution," Zelda interrupted, her voice hard.

The Duke ignored her, eyes narrowing as he turned toward (Y/n). "And as for you, Lady (Y/n)," he spat, his words coated with venom, "I suspect you enjoyed the thought of having my power and status. Isn’t that what this is really about? You've must have resented your place in the world, haven't you? You crave more. Why else would you go through such trouble, surrounding yourself with these so-called heroes? If you’d just accepted the offer, none of this would be happening."

(Y/n) stared at him, her anger barely held in check, but before she could retort, the Duke turned his attention to the Chain. His eyes flicked between them as if trying to gauge which one might be swayed by his manipulative words. "And you," he said, adopting a falsely genial tone, "surely you understand how these things work. Men of our stature, of our experience, must sometimes take necessary actions for the greater good. You cannot possibly condone such insolence from one as lowborn as her."

The heroes’ expressions darkened, each of them standing a little straighter, shoulders tensing. But it was Warriors who stepped forward, the calm command of his noble training radiating from him like a sword unsheathed. He inclined his head slightly, addressing the Duke in a measured, almost pleasant tone.

"I must admit, it is a rare thing to witness such a... unique perspective on marriage and nobility," Warriors began, his voice smooth, his smile thin. "But your words, how… interesting. You believe dear (Y/n)’s resistance is due to her desire for power and status, is that correct?"

The Duke, sensing an opportunity, straightened his spine and smiled smugly. "Indeed. Women often dream above their station, after all. It’s in their nature to be ambitious, to latch onto those who can elevate them." He glanced at Zelda, his tone condescending. "Even the most... esteemed among them need guidance."

Warriors nodded thoughtfully, as if in agreement, and the Duke, emboldened, continued, "Exactly! It's the duty of men like us to make the difficult decisions. Women, you see, they don't understand the weight of responsibility that comes with power. They get emotional, irrational—"

"Interesting," Warriors said, cutting him off. His expression hardened, all traces of civility draining from his voice. "Because from where I stand, it seems you're the one whose emotions are driving your actions. Manipulating officials, forging documents, and resorting to brute force to get what you want, sounds like desperation, not diplomacy."

The Duke's smugness faltered. "I... I merely sought to secure what was rightfully mine!"

"You speak of women needing guidance," Warriors continued, his voice turning sharp, eyes flashing with anger at his words, "yet it appears you're the one who needed guidance. You thought coercion, lies, and violence were the answer. And when faced with resistance, you attempted to shame Lady (Y/n) and Her Highness, as though they were the ones at fault for your crimes." He gestured to the rest of the Chain, who stood, eyes burning with disgust. "Do you really think any of us would support you? You’ve proven yourself to be nothing more than a coward."

The Duke, realizing he’d been led into a trap, turned a deep shade of red, his hands shaking. "I-I—how dare you speak to me like this! I won’t be lectured by some glorified soldier—"

Before he could finish, he sneered as he looked at (y/n) who scoffed, the Duke lunged at (Y/n), rage overtaking him. His hand shot out, aimed to strike her, but (Y/n) was ready. She stepped forward, her fist flying before the Duke could lay a finger on her. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back.

(Y/n) didn’t stop there. As the Duke clutched his face in shock, she delivered a swift, brutal kick to his crotch. He doubled over, gasping for air as he collapsed to his knees, groaning in pain.

"I was wrong about the earlier hit," (Y/n) said, glaring down at him, "THAT one felt really good."

Impa, along with the royal guards, stepped forward immediately, seizing the Duke by his arms and dragging him to his feet. "Take him," Zelda commanded, her voice cold and final. "Escort him to retrieve his belongings and see to it that he leaves our kingdom immediately."

The Duke, still doubled over and groaning, could only offer a weak protest as the guards hauled him away. Impa followed silently, her presence a dark shadow looming behind the fallen noble.

Zelda watched them leave, her expression impassive, before turning to (Y/n). "Well done," she said softly, her voice carrying an air of finality. "It seems justice has been served."

Zelda stood in silence for a moment, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her gaze shifted from the door where the Duke had been dragged away, then back to (Y/n). She took a slow breath, and when she spoke, her voice was softer, more uncertain.

“I... owe you an apology,” Zelda said, meeting (Y/n)’s eyes. “For not believing in you or in what Warriors had tried to tell me. I should have listened sooner.”

(Y/n) exhaled slowly, crossing her arms as she considered her words. "Logically, I get it. You were stuck between me and your entire kingdom, and your hands were tied in a lot of ways. I understand that.”

Zelda gave a small nod, hope flickering in her eyes.

“But emotionally,” (Y/n) continued, her voice tightening, “it still hurt. A lot. It’s going to take me a while to forgive you for that. Just because I understand doesn’t mean my emotions fall in line. There was a moment where it felt like it was me against everything, and you were standing with him.”

Zelda’s face fell, though she tried to mask her hurt behind a fragile smile. “I see... I’m sorry that I caused you pain, and I don’t expect your forgiveness right away. I just want you to know that I’m grateful you understand, even if only logically.”

(Y/n) gave a curt nod. “I know I’ll forgive you eventually. But I just need time.”

Zelda bowed her head slightly. "Take all the time you need. Thank you for being honest with me." She hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. Before she passed through the door, she glanced at Warriors, her expression apologetic, almost pleading for some kind of acknowledgment or absolution.

Warriors, however, merely looked back at her with hollow eyes, no anger, no hatred, just a cold, unreadable emptiness. Zelda’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she quickly left without another word.

Once she was gone, the tension in the room broke. Several of the heroes immediately surrounded (Y/n), their moods lightening.

“That punch was incredible,” Wind grinned, throwing a playful jab in the air. “I thought he’d choke on his own teeth!”

"That was a well aimed kick too," Twilight added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Couldn’t have happened to a better man."

Four, less vocal but still visibly pleased, nodded approvingly. “You took him down before he could even blink.”

Legend rolled his eyes. “Pathetic man. Acting all high and mighty just to end up whining and crying like a child.”

(Y/n) laughed, though the tension still lingered in her shoulders. “People like him are everywhere back in my world too. Power hungry, entitled, always thinking they’re owed something.”

“I’d say you handled that pretty well,” Warriors remarked, his tone light but still holding an edge. "Not many can say they’ve landed a hit like that on a duke."

(Y/n) smiled, though there was a weariness in her expression. “I never wanted to be targeted by someone like him. But I guess that’s just how things go sometimes.”

The heroes chuckled, exchanging light banter as they began to shift focus to their plans for the evening. The mood in the room had turned, easing into something far more relaxed. They talked about finding somewhere to get a decent meal, or perhaps just enjoying a quiet night to themselves for once.

But beneath the laughter and casual conversations, there were unspoken glances being passed among the group. Each hero’s eyes flickered with something darker, something more dangerous. They hadn’t forgotten the Duke’s words, nor had they let go of the cold fury building inside them. Each of them was already calculating how they would deal with the Duke once and for all.

(Y/n), blissfully unaware of the tension simmering just below the surface, continued to chat with Wind and Four, oblivious to the silent promise the others were making to themselves.

The Duke wouldn’t escape justice. Not if they had anything to say about it.

And as plans were made with (y/n) to relax for the evening, the true reckoning was yet to come.

——

————

——

The Duke stormed through his lavish quarters, his face twisted in rage. Ornate vases shattered against the walls, and the fine tapestries he'd hung to flaunt his wealth were torn down in fits of fury. His chest heaved as he threw whatever was in reach, shouting to no one in particular.

"That damned woman ruined everything!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the polished wooden walls of the ship. His mind replayed the events of the throne room, how his meticulously crafted plan had fallen apart, how (Y/n) had humiliated him in front princess and the heroes. The memory of her punch, the jeering eyes of the heroes, and Zelda’s cold condemnation burned in his mind like a brand.

His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t care that (Y/n) had been innocent. It didn’t matter that he had tried to force her into a marriage. What mattered was that his plan had failed, and now he was the one who looked like a fool.

“She should have kept her mouth shut!” he seethed, pacing back and forth, his boots clacking against the finely polished floors. “She could have had everything! The wealth, the title, being wed to a man of nobility like myself! What more could she have wanted? A commoner like her, rising to such heights, and she threw it away! Stupid girl. She could have lived in luxury, been pampered for the rest of her life.”

He paused, his pacing halting as he turned to glare out the small window of his chamber, his hands shaking with the force of his grip. “And now, thanks to her, my reputation is in ruins. That cursed woman has cost me everything! The king will surely look down on me. The other nobles will mock me for failing to bring her to heel. Me! They’ll say I’m weak, that I couldn’t handle one woman.”

His voice dropped to a bitter mutter as he resumed his pacing. “It’s all her fault. She is the reason for this disgrace.”

Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, nearly knocking him off his feet. He staggered, slamming into the wall with a sharp grunt, his palm bracing against the wood to keep from falling. The room tilted dangerously for a moment before righting itself, and the Duke cursed under his breath.

“What in the—” he hissed, pushing himself upright. His brow furrowed, and his temper flared anew. “Incompetent fools! Can’t even keep a ship steady on the water! I’ll have the crew flogged for this!”

He stomped toward the door, still muttering under his breath about the ineptitude of the lower class. But just as his hand reached for the door handle, the ship lurched again, this time with even more force. He was thrown backward, his back slamming into the table, scattering papers and broken trinkets everywhere.

“What is going on out there?!” he roared, scrambling to his feet once more. Anger and frustration warred with a growing sense of unease, but he shook it off as he stumbled into the hallway, determined to find the captain and demand an explanation for the erratic movements of the ship.

Whatever was happening, it wasn’t normal.

And the Duke wasn’t prepared for what awaited him on the deck.

The Duke stormed out onto the deck, the chill of the night air biting at his skin. It was dark, the moon hanging low in the sky, shrouded in thick clouds, and the wind whipped through his hair, making his coat billow around him. His frustration boiled over as he squinted into the blackness, seeing no one around.

"Where the hell is everyone?!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the howling wind. "What is the meaning of this reckless sailing?!"

No response came. The only sounds were the crash of the waves against the ship's hull and the eerie groan of the wood beneath his feet. He waited, fists clenched at his sides, his blood pumping hot with rage.

“Answer me, damn you!” he shouted again, his voice cracking slightly with the force of his anger. Still, no one replied. The deck was eerily empty, the shadows stretching longer in the flickering lantern light. He could hear the distant rush of water and feel the ship sway beneath him.

The silence hung like a weight on his chest, growing heavier with each passing second. The Duke muttered under his breath, "Where is everyone?"

As if in response to his words, the ship lurched again, harder than before. The violent motion knocked him off his feet, sending him sprawling onto the deck. His hand smacked painfully against the wood, and he winced, scrambling to his knees with a groan.

“Blast it all!” he cursed, rising shakily. His hand still throbbed, but his pride ached worse. "What is going on?!"

A low voice drifted through the wind, calm and measured, with an edge that sent a chill down the Duke’s spine.

“They’re not on the ship anymore.”

The Duke’s head snapped toward the voice, his eyes widening as he peered up towards the helm. There, silhouetted against the night sky, stood a figure. His stance was casual, one hand resting on the railing, while the other hung loosely at his side. The wind tugged at his blue scarf, but he stood steady, unbothered by the storm raging around him.

The Duke’s breath caught in his throat. He recognized him.

The Hero of Warriors.

Warriors gazed out toward the sea, his expression unreadable, not bothering to acknowledge the Duke’s presence right away. His voice was low, cutting through the night like a knife. “The crew was given a choice.”

The ship rocked again, this time more violently, and the Duke had to reach out to steady himself against the mast. The wind whipped around them, howling through the rigging like a vengeful spirit. Warriors, however, didn’t move, standing firm as if the tempest was nothing more than a gentle breeze.

“They made their choice,” Warriors continued, his tone steady and cold. “Fortunately for them, they didn’t struggle.”

The Duke’s heart raced. His mouth went dry as the full weight of the situation pressed down on him. “What... what do you mean, they didn’t struggle?” he demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite his attempt to sound authoritative.

Warriors finally turned his gaze towards him, blue eyes cold and sharp, cutting through the dark. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, descending the steps from the helm with an eerie calmness that only made the Duke’s fear intensify.

“But you,” Warriors said, voice dropping lower as he drew closer, “you and the men in your pocket? You won’t be given a choice.”

The Duke’s breath hitched, and he took an involuntary step back.

Something heavy landed behind him with a thick, sickening thud. The Duke froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, dread pooling in his stomach, he turned his head. His eyes widened in terror as they landed on the twisted form of one of his personal guards, crumpled grotesquely on the deck. The man’s limbs were bent at unnatural angles, and his lifeless, pain filled eyes stared blankly at the Duke. His throat tightened as bile rose, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

He stumbled backward, his breathing rapid and shallow, before his gaze flicked upwards. A strangled gasp escaped him as he saw several more of his guards, their bodies dangling limply from the crow’s nest, their legs bound, swaying in the wind like gruesome puppets.

Panic gripped him. His chest heaved as he staggered back further, his hands trembling uncontrollably. This wasn’t just some accident or punishment, it was a spectacle. A message.

Up above, on the crow’s nest, a figure stood with their arms raised, weaving through the air. The Duke could see them moving, and as their hands shifted, the wind seemed to respond, whipping through the sails with forceful gusts that made the entire ship creak and groan under the pressure.

“Eager to participate,” came Warriors’ cold, casual voice behind him, drawing the Duke’s attention back. “The sailor was particularly enthusiastic about dealing with you.” Warriors’ gaze remained locked on the Duke, his expression hard as steel. “He came up with the idea to hang your men like that. Thought it’d make an impression on you.”

The Duke swallowed hard, his mouth dry as dust, eyes darting from the swaying bodies to the figure atop the crow’s nest. He recognized him now, the youngest Hero amongst the famed group, the legendary baton of his in hand, controlling the very gales battering the ship.

Wind’s movements were precise, almost rhythmic, and with each shift of his baton, the wind seemed to intensify, as if the very element was singing as it bent to his will. The sight made the Duke’s blood run cold.

Warriors took another step forward, his voice dropping into something colder, more dangerous. “You should thank him. He’s made sure your men won’t feel a thing anymore.” His eyes narrowed. “But you, Duke, you don’t get that mercy.”

The Duke’s knees buckled as he stumbled back again, the gruesome sight above him and the bone-chilling presence of Warriors before him coiling around his heart like a vice.

Warriors stepped forward, the ship groaning under the force of the wind as if the entire vessel knew what was about to unfold. He looked at the Duke, a calm, almost dispassionate gaze fixed on him. "I’m not here to lay a hand on you," he said, his tone as steady as the sea before a storm. "No, sadly that’s not my role tonight."

The Duke swallowed hard, but Warriors continued, his boots tapping lightly on the wooden deck as he descended the stairs, his steps calm despite the chaos surrounding them. "I’m just here to deliver a message from the rest of my companions. Your fate was sealed the moment you decided to target *her*." His voice was sharp, cutting through the howling winds that now whipped fiercely around them. "If you had been smarter, if you’d offered your services to us, covered our tracks when we needed it... perhaps you’d have a chance at redemption."

Warriors stopped, his voice lowering, but still audible over the roaring wind. "But you didn’t. You chose to lay your hand on the one person you never should’ve touched." His words struck like a hammer, and the Duke’s face paled, his confidence unraveling in the face of the calm malice in Warriors' voice.

Panic welled up inside him, and the Duke’s voice trembled as he tried to negotiate. “M-My king will hear about this! This will start a war! You can’t—”

Warriors tilted his head slightly, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “That’s only if you manage to make it back to your king.” As if on cue, the haunting melody of an ocarina began to play, seemingly from nowhere. The Duke’s eyes widened as dark clouds began to roll in, blotting out the moon, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

The ship groaned louder, the wooden beams straining under the building pressure. The Duke felt the deck shudder beneath his feet, a terrifying crack ringing out through the air as though the ship itself was beginning to break apart.

Desperation filled his voice as he stumbled forward, hands shaking. “Wait, please! Sir Hero, you have to see reason! I can—”

But Warriors simply shook his head, watching the Duke with cold, unwavering eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered, the distaste clear in his voice.

Before the Duke could respond, Wind landed beside him with a graceful thud, having swung down from the crow’s nest with his grappling hook. The Duke’s eyes flickered with hope as he latched onto Wind’s arm, clutching him in a last, desperate bid for salvation. "Y-You! You must convince him! Convince him to see reason!"

Wind looked down at the Duke with a wide grin, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Where’s all that noble decorum now, huh? Funny how it disappears the moment you’re cornered.” He wrenched his arm free with little effort, leaving the Duke to stagger back. Without another word, Wind turned and joined Warriors, pulling back out his Wind Waker and preparing to play.

The eerie notes of the baton began to fill the air, and the wind responded, sang to his command, swirling and intensifying as Wind conducted the melody.

Just as the song reached its peak, Warriors, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, glanced back at the Duke. "You know," he said, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, "I don’t think I ever learned your actual name."

The Duke blinked, his mouth opening in disbelief as he tried to stammer out a response.

Warriors shrugged, already turning away. "I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore."

At that moment, Wind’s song reached its climax, and a massive cyclone formed, engulfing Warriors and Wind in a spiraling vortex of air. Within moments, they vanished, whisked away by the magic of the winds, leaving the Duke alone on the rapidly deteriorating ship.

The ship rocked violently, tilting dangerously to one side as the storm fully unleashed its fury. The Duke stumbled, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the sea swell beneath him, the waves rising higher and higher. The ship’s creaking intensified, sharp cracking sounds echoing as the wood began to splinter.

“No… this isn’t happening!” the Duke muttered to himself, shaking his head. “This—this can’t be happening! It’s all just a nightmare…!” His voice rose in pitch as he backed away from the railing, eyes wide with denial. “I’ll be fine! I’ll be fine!”

But the ship lurched again, throwing him to the deck as the storm raged on, the winds howling like a beast hungry for destruction. The vessel groaned one last time, a final, desperate sound as it began to split.

The Duke’s terror reached its breaking point. He scrambled to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and raw with panic. “No! No, no, no! This can’t be happening! Someone, anyone, save me!”

His scream echoed across the stormy sea, but there was no one left to hear him. As the ship gave its final shudder and the waves crashed over the deck, the Duke’s cries were swallowed by the storm, lost in the unforgiving darkness.

————

———

——

———

————

A week or two later, (y/n) sat with a few of the heroes, relaying the latest rumors she’d overheard from the guards and servants. “They say the Duke’s ship was attacked by pirates and destroyed by a massive storm,” she said, looking down at her tea. “Apparently, no one survived.”

The group exchanged surprised glances. Hyrule raised an eyebrow. "Pirates and a storm? That's some poetic justice."

Twilight chuckled. “Ironic, considering the Duke’s ambitions.”

Legend leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He got what he deserved. Swift and final.”

(y/n) sighed, leaning back. “Karma works fast sometimes.” She jumped a little when she felt a pair of hands settle gently on her shoulders. Time had snuck up behind her, his presence calm but strong as ever. He leaned down slightly, his voice low as he murmured, “At least, now, the Duke will never lay a hand on you again.”

She smiled, nodding in agreement. "I’m relieved, but... I can’t help feeling sad that the crew had to die. They were innocent, after all." Her voice softened. “I just wish pirates were like Wind.”

Legend snorted. “Tell him that, and he’ll get an even bigger head than he already has.”

Four piped up with a smirk. “Big head? He’s barely got a head at all with how small he is.”

Twilight laughed, joining in. “Maybe the wind carries his brain away every time he uses his Wind Waker.”

Hyrule, attempting to defend their absent companion, shook his head. “Come on, Wind’s not that bad!”

(y/n) laughed, clearly entertained. “Wind’s a sweetheart! Just because he’s small doesn’t mean he’s brainless.” She grinned at Four and Twilight. "He’s got more brains than you two combined."

The group descended into playful bickering, with (y/n) gleefully holding her own as they teased and defendedd Wind. Time’s hands slipped away from her shoulders, and he stepped back, the sound of her laughter lightening his expression. Witout a word, he turned and quietly left the room, letting their cheerful voices fade behind him.

As he stepped into the corridor, he was greeted by Wild and Sky. Wild gave him a nod. “Warriors and Wind are waiting outside.”

Sky smiled, glancing back at the door. “Sounds like there’s a bit of chaos going on in there. You did good work, Time.”

Time gave his usual half-smile, a faint curve of his lips that spoke volumes. "Appreciate it." He watched as Wild and Sky exchanged grins and headed back into the room, eager to join in the lively spat still unfolding within.

Time continued outside, where Warriors and Wind stood waiting. The breeze was cool, the sky darkening as evening approached. Wind was leaning against the railing, a slight pout on his face, while Warriors stood tall beside him, his arms crossed in quiet satisfaction.

“Good work, both of you,” Time said, his voice steady and appreciative. “The Duke won’t trouble her again.”

“Good work yourself for summoning that storm.” Warriors said with a chuckle.

Wind sighed dramatically. “Legend’s been such a bother ever since I asked for some of his cursed rings. He’s so stingy! Like, come on, it’s just a little curse. I needed them for the guards!”

Warriors chuckled. “You’ve got enough mischief to handle without cursed rings. But honestly, I’m just glad the whole thing with the Duke is over. He was a problem that needed solving.”

There was a pause, Warriors’ face more thoughtful as he asked, “The crew we let go... you think they’ll keep quiet?”

Wind perked up, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, absolutely. We gave them the Duke’s valuables and a hefty amount of rupees. No one’s going to open their mouths about us after that.”

Time nodded. “They would not be lying when they say they were attacked by pirates,” Wind snickers at that. “They never had any loyalty to a man who treated them like tools. Those that did? They were as pathetic as he was.”

Warriors sighed, a small smile forming as he shook his head. “Shame we couldn’t have done more to him. But I suppose watching him crumble in fear was enough.”

Wind stretched, clearly pleased with the outcome. “The fear in his eyes? Priceless.” He grinned wide. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Time nodded again, the shadows in his expression fading as the three of them moved on to simpler topics, small banter about their next steps, where they would go, what else to do now that the Duke was no longer in the picture.

It was as though the events on the Duke’s ship were already distant memories, the murder of the Duke and his men insignificant.

All that mattered now was (y/n), and where next they would go with her by their side.

[thevirtualvalentine]

pierced!tragalgar law x pierced!reader

content warning: oral sex, dry humping, heavy kissing, established relationship, essentially modern, reader has a new lip piercing and law indulges in a fantasy.

Law with an alt gf with piercings… Like I can picture the two of you now. Maybe when you started dating you didn’t have the collection you did now, you could have started with a simple nose hoop. One of his favorite things to do is compare your piercings side by side with your faces squished together in the mirror. Some of his favorite pictures of the two of you are from these shared moments.

He has to say though, this recent piercing of yours has him going insane. Every feature on your face feels so delicate to him. He loves the way your nose fits perfectly between your eyes and the soft curve of your cupids bow. However, what he didn’t expect was to be mesmerized by your vertical labret, the shiny metal glistening each time you speak, how it disappears and reappears from behind your teeth when you smile at him.

God it was so fucking alluring and it was driving him crazy. He could not wait to get his mouth on you, to tug your lips between his teeth again and to feel the metal on his tongue .. maybe other places too.

But he’d wait. He’s patient. Fairly pierced himself, Law wouldn’t compromise your healing process. Lip piercings are prone to migrating and need adequate time to heal. He is a doctor after all.

He abided his time with soft pecks for now, but you could feel his lingering desire tracing your lips each time he pulled away. His tongue softly glazing the cool surface of your new piercing. You wouldn’t lie, it set something ablaze in you, anticipating when your new addition would heal.

Two months have passed by now and you feel your new body modification is healed. You find Law sitting alone in his study nose deep in a medical textbook as his glasses rest carefully on the bridge of his nose. For some reason seeing him this stressed out makes you want to relieve him the best way you know how, with your mouth.

Making your way over to him your hands find his shoulders to which he audibly groans when you begin massaging him. “Baby you need a break, yeah?” He only hums, the tension in him begins to loosen. He’s truly putty in your hands.

Law grumbles when you pull his chair back from the desk, chair scraping against the floor as you ignore his protests. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me do as I please,” you tell him while climbing into his lap.

It seems like all his protests leave him when he realizes you’re only clad in his t-shirt on top of him. Your hot pussy only covered by his own clothing. Then you’re kissing him. Metal gliding against his mouth as your hands find his hair. Your hips try to fall into a familiar rhythm on his dick but his hands stop you.

“Careful, you should be more delicate with that,” he’s not condescending but moreso concerned and for that you’re touched.

Your need for him only flourishes, a soft whine escaping you as you lunge for his lips. He doesn’t stop you, only meeting you back with equal passion.

You missed this, sitting in his lap as he grinds you into soft putty on his growing cock. It’s not long before his tongue starts exploring your lips, suckling on the bottom fat where your piercing resides. The slowness of it all has you writhing in his hold. He’s taken to sharp thrusts into your growing wetness as he slobbers all over you.

It’s thrilling but you can’t possibly take anymore of his teasing. You place your palms on his shoulders while breaking for air. His lips immediately find occupancy on the vacant skin of your neck, nibbling at the unmarked terrain. “Let me suck you off, I wanna know if it’ll feel any different,” you need more of him now, more than he’s giving you.

He can sense your greed, he’s empathetic to it. “Go on then.” Always so smug.

With one final hump into your cunt he lets you clamber off him, slinking to the floor on your knees. He loves those beady eyes and the metal that decorates your features, but most of all the silver in your lips makes his cock twitch within his pants.

Your hands couldn’t seemingly work any slower to unbutton his pants and pull out his aching dick, “wait wait—,” his breath heavy in his throat, “kiss it.”

Occasionally Law would surprise you with what he wanted, but it never disappointed you. You smile as you fist his member in one hand and kiss his tip with your plush lips.

He shivers from the contact, “you okay?” He swears you’re a vixen looking up at him like that from your knees speaking so softly to him, metal bouncing with the movement of your mouth.

“It feels good, keep going,” and at that you smile. Dragging the tip of your piercing up and down his shaft as you lubricate his dick with spit. Laws breath always betrays him, his nostrils flare as you take him deeper in your mouth. Either of your hands making sure to take care of what your warm wet mouth doesn’t.

He can’t stop watching as the shiny piece of silver appears and disappears as you suckle his dick like candy. It makes his balls ache with need as his grip on the arm of his chair tightens.

“You’re so pretty love, y’know that. Pretty mouth stuffed full of dick. Shit feels so good on my cock, you got no idea.” Somehow he makes you drip without even touching you.

To finish him off you place both hands on his shaft while making sure to drag your lips and tongue carefully near the slit. Not even a few seconds later he’s glazing your tongue with his hot load as he moans into his fist.

“Fuck fuck, sto- stop you’ll overstimulate me..” he huffs as he flicks your forehead. You won’t stop sucking on his tip trying to drain his big balls.

“Let me return the favor, yeah baby?” it’s then you catch a glimpse of a bright silver ball peaking just behind his teeth.

When did Law get a tongue piercing?

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 14

Hey all! Because I'm working strictly on Paper Hearts and Sweet Home Indiana exclusively until they're done, I thought I would put out chapters of this, Icarus (metal band), and Never Hold Back Your Step...(boy with a bat book 2) this week to tie you over until I can get back to them.

The poll wanted me to continue this one and Never Hold Back Your Step, so show me how much you love this story. Because people it is going to get juicy good and hella twisty and you really don't want to miss out on that. ;)

This is a very Nancy heavy chapter and as always she comes off very nuanced.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

****

Steve had two thorns in his side. Tommy Hagan and Murray Bauman. Jonathan had gotten his mom and Hopper to back down by citing actual pack law.

He suspected that Nancy had given him that little tidbit to throw in their faces.

It was nice to have the younger generation on his side. Well, most of it. There was still the matter of Tommy.

But now it was time to let Nancy in on what had been going on in the pack.

“I wish you had come to me sooner,” she huffed after he had explained everything and shown her his proof.

“Would you have come to me if the shoe was on the other foot?” Steve asked sharply.

She folded her arms and looked down at the ground. Steve raised an eyebrow at her and she threw her arms in the air.

“Fine!” Nancy cried, throwing her arms in the air. “I wouldn’t have gone to you, I would have gone to Jonathan first. But at least I would have gone to another pack member instead of a keeper, Steve.”

Steve curled his lip and she took a step backward. “Keepers are bound to a scared trust and while Tommy has broken his, Robin would never.”

“Platonic soulmates, I know, I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So you keep saying. But she isn’t your female alpha, she isn’t even a werewolf Steve.”

Steve drew himself up to full height and glared at her. “At what has this pack done to show me any loyalty? It goes both ways, Nance and frankly all I’ve gotten since I came back to the pack is suspicion and distrust. Where’s my loyalty, huh? Where is it?”

She looked down at her feet again and sighed. “You weren’t a pack member for ten years, Steve and then you come back, in just a year you’re alpha. Like the rest of us have grown up together. Played together as children and then as puppies when we changed. We know everything about each other, but nothing about you. Then you start to change things and we’re just supposed to take it?”

“Yeah?” he said. “Okay, I’ll walk away. Hopper can take over or hell, give it straight to Murray. He’s the one that wanted it so bad after Hop was taken. See how you fare under his alphaship. If you guys have no loyalty to me, I’ve got none to you.”

He shook his head and walked away.

“Steve!” she cried. “Wait!”

Steve whirled back to face her. “What? You wanted me gone, so I’m leaving.”

“Of course I don’t want you to leave!” she huffed. “God, that wasn’t what I meant at all.”

“No?” he growled. “Because that’s what it fucking sounded like Nancy. What? You think Jonathan would be a better fit?” Nancy didn’t answer but her look said it all. “Because let me tell you, the Byers boys are the best of us, but both are straight up pacifists. They would make for terrible alphas.”

Nancy refused to look at him.

“And besides,” Steve finished with a smug grin, “Jonathan would back me in a fight for alpha, not challenge me and you fucking know it.”

She let out a long sigh. “God, how did you get so smart?”

“I’ve always been, thanks,” he huffed. “School stuff? I’m absolute shit at, but leadership and knowing the right play for the whole team? That comes as naturally to me as breathing. I don’t know it’s all the sports or if I was good at sports because of the natural ability to lead. Either way, there is no adult male in this pack better suited for alphaship and you can’t argue that.”

She looked up and stomped her foot. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“You better get used to it,” Steve said with a wink. “It’s going to happen a lot.”

Nancy clenched her fists and set her jaw. “You are the best leader for the pack as much as it literally pains me to say it, but you have to understand that all we saw was how rich and popular you were in high school. Captain of several teams, friends with Tommy and Carol even though you weren’t pack. King Steve. And then you come back to the pack after high school and the first chance you get you challenge for alpha and fucking win. That fight with Murray was the most brutal fight I’ve ever seen.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “In what way?”

“You don’t fight like a wolf, even in wolf form,” she muttered. “You don’t even fight like an animal most of the time. It’s like... the wolf is only a vessel for you. Instead of being ingrained into your psyche like it is for the rest of us, you are still aware. You fight the way a human would if suddenly given four legs and a tail. It’s frightening to watch.”

He blinked as he thought about the implications of that. “I don’t have the socialization of a wolf pack, so I fight and think differently. That’s why everyone is worried about where I’ll take the pack. Because you think I’ll try to separate you from your wolf.”

Nancy bit her lower lip. “Exactly that.”

Steve nodded and then transformed. “So teach me how to be a wolf.”

She smiled and transformed, too. Maybe they weren’t friends, but they could be allies and Steve was okay with that.

****

Nancy had learned a lot that day. About Steve and why he didn’t know how to be a wolf and it was a secret she would take to her grave. She learned that she was only the fourth person ever to know about what really went on at the Franklins. Behind Wayne; who was there; Robin, his best friend; and Eddie, his boyfriend.

And if Steve was to be believed, and she had no reason not to, Wayne had told Eddie, not him.

So she was the second person Steve had personally told and that was a lot of trust he had placed in her.

But it also stirred memories in her mind of the day the pack had been informed that the Harrington’s were dead and that Steve was going to be living with another couple until he came of age.

She had been pretty young herself, but she remembered how Wayne and Hopper had almost come to blows about it.

Hopper had yelled that the pack was as safe as houses and Wayne said the house was a condemned building.

She remembered it because she thought the phrase was hilarious. But regardless there was someone else who was there. Someone who was fighting to keep Steve in the pack, but she couldn’t remember.

Nancy rubbed her forehead between her eyebrows as she thought.

She shook her head.

She had bigger fish to fry. Steve’s threat about banishing those that had threatened his alphaship had stirred up a lot of feelings in the pack that she as female alpha had to try and smooth out.

The pack had only banished two people ever since Hopper had taken over the remains of the shattered Harrington pack after Wayne had torn them to literal pieces.

Just then she heard an argument break out. Josh had been swapped out for Chase and she could hear his raised voice.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Pat?!” Chase hissed. “Joining these flea-bitten mongrels?”

Nancy frowned. Maybe Chase should have come to the compound first, rather than Josh, because it sounded like Chase had been overly influenced by Billy’s style.

“How about not dying?” Patrick snapped back. “Billy wasn’t going to change me and Steve was willing to try. Vampire’s don’t need consent to change you, but werewolves do. And so yeah. I fucking consented. I didn’t want to die.”

“Better dead than a werewolf,” Chase said. “Hanging out with the vamps was fun. But all this is hard work and the stench of rotting meat.”

Nancy reached a point in the woods where she could see them, but they couldn’t see her.

Patrick shook his head. “He saved me twice, Chase. Even Jason is impressed by how respectful Steve had been about the whole thing, especially since we nearly killed him.”

Chase blanched. After those six weeks at the coven, he had forgotten the reason for the whole exchange program in the first place. That they could have been thrown in jail for attempted murder.

He looked down at the ground. “Shit, man. I didn’t mean it like that. Of course you’re grateful to Harrington for saving your ass. It’s just so much has changed in so little time that I loss track of all that...other bullshit.”

Patrick sighed. “I know, it all seems like it’s from another life. But Wayne has said that he’s going to recommend to the DA that we get a year of community service under his eye and it won’t go on our permanent record so we can still go to college.”

“That’s decent of him,” Chase said. “He could have made things really bad for you.”

Patrick shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think Jason is being genuine. He’s still angry about getting caught by Eddie Munson of all people.”

Chase frowned. The rivalry between Jason and Eddie Munson was the stuff of legends. Jason would bully the Hellfire Club kids, and Eddie would stand on table tops in the cafeteria ranting about basketball players were only good at putting big orange balls in laundry baskets.

It was actually Eddie and not Billy who had stepped in between Chrissy Cunningham and Jason when he found out she was a vampire and not some pure Christian girl who would stay at home once they were married and pump out his babies.

Chrissy could have defended herself considering how strong she was as a vampire, but Eddie had still stepped between them. Chase was sure that if the principal hadn’t walked by just then, that Jason would have decked Eddie.

“Especially now that Eddie is the same supe Chrissy is,” he said slowly.

Patrick nodded. “I worry he’s going to get caught up in something that might get himself killed.”

“Jason is such a bone head,” Chase said shaking his head. “Why did we follow this guy again?”

Patrick threw back his head and laughed. “Because he was captain of the basketball team, dating the head cheerleader, and hot as fuck.”

Chase let out a startled snorted. “Yeah, okay. You’ve got me there.”

They moved away from the clearing and there was a tap on Nancy’s shoulder.

She yelped and whirled around, coming face to face with Murray.

“Jesus!” she hissed, putting her hand on her chest as she fought to catch her breath.

“You shouldn’t be eavesdropping on people,” he said with a smarmy smile.

She returned his smile with a tight lipped version of her own. “Well, you would only know I was eavesdropping, if you were doing the same thing. A bit pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

He tilted his head and regarded her with interest. “I can see why Steve would chose you as his alpha female. So smart. Just don’t go digging holes you can’t jump out of.”

He slipped into the shadows of the woods and she felt a shiver down her spine.

She had been so wrapped up in the drama with Steve that she had neglected her duties as alpha female.

Well that changed today. She would get to the bottom of this and give Steve her full support. Like a proper female alpha.

****

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

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7- @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv @fairytalesreality @anaibis

8- @papergrenade @ravenfrog @fullpoetrybread

[odditycircus-2002]

Intros with Quan-chi's Daughter and Granddaughter

A/N: I had these convos in my head that wouldn't leave, no matter how much heavy metal I blasted into my ear holes. So here they are now! To understand the context of ANY of these intros, I suggest reading this and this. Enjoy!

Quan-Chi and his Daughter

Quan-chi: Daughter of mine.

Y/N: I'm no child of yours anymore!

Quan-chi: Yet, it is MY blood that runs through your veins.

/

Y/N: If I had it my way, I'd never lay eyes on you again.

Quan-chi: And yet, here you are before your Master.

Y/N: So I may pay Penance for being complicit in your schemes for centuries.

/

Quan-chi: Scorpion is an interesting choice of partner.

Y/N spitefully: You think I could do "better"?

Quan-chi: No, I think you waste your time with this "marriage".

/

Y/N: You never saw me as your daughter, did you?

Quan-chi: Have I not kept, teach, fed, and dress you?

Y/N: Don't avoid answering the question!

Sister in Laws

D/N: It's strange to have Father dead, and his past undead self is still alive, yet he isn't the man who raised me.

Jacqui: That has to be plenty of shades of fucked up.

D/N voice cracking: I-i-it really really really is.

/

Jacqui: Both of our fathers have suffered from Quan-chi's magic.

D/N: You're fortunate not to share blood with that monster.

Jacqui earnestly: You're nothing like him, D/N!

/

D/N: Remember, marrying Takeda means marrying the Clan, including me.

Jacqui: I promise I will love and cherish your brother.

D/N: You better, Army Girl.

/

Jacqui: Takeda told me he used to be afraid of you?

D/N: As a child, I didn't exactly assuage that fear by constantly hiding and surprising him out of dark corners.

Jacqui, holding back a chuckle: Is that why Takeda still checks his closet at night?

[sanjisblackasswife]

timi im sobbing like a bitch while rewatching corazón and law's story (PLUS IM ON MY PERIOD SO BYE)

COULD U PLEASE PLEAAAASE write something about cora??🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🤧🤧🤧🥲🥲🥲🥲🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🥲🥲🤧🤧🥲🥲 anything- i just need him to hug me and kiss me and fuck me and love me etc etc etc aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (dying)

“𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚍”

𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Hand holding, Pet names, Soft!Dom Cora, Aftercare, (?) Soft Smut, Size kink(?), Oral, Body Worship, Cora has a tongue piercing

☹️❣️I hope this helps

“You don’t…” a shaky breath left your lips, “Have to…”

“Yes I do…lay down and let me take care of you.”

Damn it.

His breath in your ear made your eyes roll back, you fell weak against his touch.

His long slender fingers unbuttoning the front of your bra while his cold lips hit your hot neck. His kisses were so gentle.

That was his mantra after all. He was your big gentle giant.

Usually you always took charge, laying him down and he was at your disposal but tonight Cora seen the sadness you been carrying behind your smile, he wasn’t too great with his words, more clumsy with verbally as he is physically. So he decided tonight was going to be about you.

“This…” Cora’s heavy breathing against your freed nipple made you mewl, “This…body…is all mine…and I wanna take care of what’s mine.”

His kisses were peppered over the mounds of your breast, he knew how sensitive you were so he smirked at your flinches, kitten licking the top before sucking it into his mouth, his tongue didnt rest, it was wrapping and swirling all over while his other free hand fondled the other.

“Rosi…” You whine, you felt so small, his large nude frame over your half clothed one, his body grinding against you, you felt a wet mess on your thigh already, you giggle weakly, “…I’m fine..”

“If you’re fine, then let me make you feel better than that.”

He closed his large hand with yours now looking into your eyes while his lips slips off your breast, leaving a shiny spit line disconnecting you both down to your panty line, he bit into the thin fabric and pulled it down with his teeth, not breaking away from your gaze.

He kissed both of your inner thighs, the small graze from his lips on your clit made you clench,

“I love this pussy…so much…”

His vulgar words in such a soft tone made you bite your lip, until a hum cane out of you, his long snake like tongue pushing its way inside your cunt, you immediately clench down at the cold metal that was accompanied with it.

“Thats it..” His voice muffled before diving in, feeling your hand squeeze down onto his, “Feel good for me baby, focus on this tongue.”

Cora’s head moved back and fourth, tongue fucking your hole before swirling it back on your clit, your voice was bouncing off the walls of how well he could use it.

There wasn’t an area on your pussy he didn’t lap up, his eyes rolling back at your taste and smell, just overflowing in his mind, “Fuck!” You heard him groan time to time.

Now, here you are a panting undone mess, cumming only in minutes from him being in between your thighs.

The kiss was messy, he needed you to taste yourself.

Drool pooled between both of you, barely being able to breath you both were so needy for each others touch, you didn’t mind feeling him slide his cock half way inside you.

“Th-this..is new…” You stutter, you and him knew how big he was, so missionary wasn’t something you both had in mind to do but for tonight he will make sure to keep you noting less of pleasure in this position.

The bed shook the ground, Cora’s hips nearly snapping aginst yours, he couldn’t bottom out, only half way in in fear he may hurt you he kept his pace steady and it was perfect.

“I love you..” Your boyfriend whined in your ear now grabbing both of your hands as you rocked your hips together, “I love you so much, babe. Please don’t leave me.”

His voice was cracking and you heard a few sniffs in your ear as he kissed it turning his head to find your lips again. You both were so overwhelmed by this new closeness you felt yourself cumming again.

“I love you, Rosi!” You moaned, letting go of one hand to hold the back of his nape, “I love you, I won’t ever leave you..”

It was emotional for you both, but the pleasure of the orgasm you shared together that night made it all the more better.

It left you shaking, one of your legs wrapped around his hip, he grabbed it keeping it up there as he rode out both of your highs, not once letting go from your kisses or hand.

When he pulled out, there was a sticky pool beneath you both, Neither of you cared you just wanted to be held.

and that he did.

“I meant what i said, Cora…’m never leaving you”

“I know..” He pulled you into his neck, tracing shapes on your lower back, he smiled, “I know..”

He lifted your chin, brushed back the wet fly away hairs on your forehead to kiss you so passionately, it got messy and then came in some tongue sucking and moaning, it riled you both up again.

That night was filled with back to back love making and hand holding, mixed with constant praise of “i love yous” and other sweet mothings, it was done not just for you but to confirm with your big man that you’d never leave.

and you never did.

[syrupfog]

Infiltrating the Marines is honestly pretty par for the course, at this point. Penguin might even say it’s a bit BORING. 

Actually, there’s no “might” about it. It’s INCREDIBLY boring, and tedious, and Penguin is pretty sure that even if he had started as a marine, he would’ve defected to piracy by now. 

Like, gods above, Law’s only directed them to be here for three weeks, but three days in and Penguin is considering causing some trouble just to feel ALIVE. 

It doesn’t help that Shachi ended up filtered into a department on the far end of the base.

So here Penguin is, bored out of his mind and serving SLOP in the canteen. SLOP. Like, this is a downgrade from gruel. Have Marines never heard of spices? 

“Cadet,” a very boring Commander says, turning to Penguin as Penguin hurries to put down his ladle and salute.

“You’ll be delivering meals to the brig today,” the Commander says. 

Penguin’s eyes—hidden under his cap, of course—light up. “Yes sir,” he says. He has no idea where the brig is. 

Laden with a full cart of slop, he then proceeds to get hopelessly lost. The place is labyrinthine.

When he locates the brig, the Junior Lieutenant at the door keys him in, and Penguin finds him in a significantly dimmer hall of cells. 

He hands bowls of slop through the bars of a number of sad looking prisoners that he can only imagine are hapless unlucky pirates.

But at the very end of the hall, in the last cell— well now, this is a surprise. 

“Oh,” says Penguin brightly. “You’re the Massacre Soldier.” 

The Massacre Soldier has several more chains on him than most of the hapless pirates. He’s still got his mask on, at least.

“How… are you going to eat this?” Penguin asks. 

The Soldier, who had been doing a decent job pretending Penguin isn’t there, turns toward him. “Like a fucking dog, I suppose,” he rumbles in a deliciously low voice. 

“Well that’s no good,” Penguin says. “I’ll find a straw.”

He wanders off to find a straw. 

It takes a while. The marine base has apparently become “eco conscious” so there are no plastic ones, but he eventually comes upon a metal one. Well. Possibly it’s a small metal pipe, but close enough. 

The lieutenant doesn’t question it when he returns. Dang, these guys really need to work on their security. 

“Here you are!” Penguin says, sticking the straw in the slop and sliding it forcefully in his direction. 

“…Thanks,” The Massacre Soldier says, sounding somewhat confused. As Penguin is leaving, he hears the Soldier say, “I’ll kill you last.” 

That’s nice, Penguin thinks. Very kind of him. 

Penguin ends up taking meals to the brig on the regular. It’s a nice change of pace, and he learns to hide straws in his uniform. USUALLY The Solider gives them back, but a few are missing.

It’s two and a half weeks into his three week stay when Penguin’s very boring routine is interrupted by explosions. 

Ah, Penguin thinks, finally some excitement. 

Unfortunately that excitement comes with a little more chaos than expected, and he gets caught up in a crowd of

panicked cadets running every which way. Penguin has to work against the flow because he’s pretty sure the most dangerous place right now is going to be wherever the marines are exiting. 

And the most interesting will be the Brig.

He’s almost down there— the halls here are much more deserted— when another explosion sounds and the walls around him crumble. Penguin lets out a muffled shout as he’s brought down by a pillar collapsing directly on top of him. 

Shit. 

That fucking hurts.

He can’t move, can’t lift it from where it’s crushing his abdomen. There’s definitely some cracked ribs. 

Ah Shit. Law’s gonna kill him if he dies. 

Suddenly, his attention is taken up by the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward him. 

The Massacre Soldier and Eustass Fucking Kid

“I’ve got the twerp,” Kid says. 

“Wait,” The Soldier shouts, putting his hand out. 

He points at Penguin. “Straw Guy,” He says. 

Well. 

“That’s me,” Penguin groans. 

The Soldier, still at a run, fucking KICKS the pillar to pieces and grabs Penguin around the middle, hoisting him under his armpit. 

“Demeaning,” Penguin wheezes. 

“Hello??” Kid screeches. 

“Straw Guy,” The Soldier says to Kid, pointing with his free hand at Penguin. 

His free hand which, it turns out, is covered in blood and has four metal straws between the fingers. A makeshift weapon.

“You can’t just bring a pet marine home, Killer” Kid yells as they run. 

“Mine,” Killer says. He’s POUTING. 

“If it helps,” Penguin speaks up, “I’m actually a pirate.” 

They stop briefly to kill some loose marines. 

“That doesn’t help,” Kid says.

“Yes it does,” Killer argues. He pats Penguin’s hat with his bloody hand. 

Kid screeches in frustration. “Fine!” He yells. “Take home your fucking pet pirate.” 

“Thank you,” Killer singsongs. They have to stop to murder some more marines and Penguin sees his straws at work.

Its gruesome. 

Finally they emerge into sunlight at the top of the base, Kid’s ship looming over them. Penguin wonders if Shachi’s waiting for him. Hopefully not. He’s indisposed. 

Killer carries him onto the ship and, only stopping briefly to dispose of the straws, goes straight down into the depths of it. 

Penguin finds himself shortly thrown on a messy, unmade bed. 

“You get your own room?” He asks. 

“First mate privilege,” Killer says, and then he’s on top of him, one LARGE hand covering Penguin’s eyes. There’s a thunk, and then lips meeting his own. 

It’s an odd experience to be passionately kissed with your eyes forcefully covered. Penguin’s not against it, though. 

When Killer breaks the kiss, Penguin says, “Could’ve just gone for a blindfold.” 

“Haven’t done laundry, Straw Boy,” Killer says. “And maybe I like the feel of your lashes.” 

Ohhhhh that’s. Penguin blushes. “I’ve got a name,” he says after the next time Killer’s mouth disconnects from his. 

Killer hums in response, chasing his lips. 

“It’s Penguin,” Penguin gets out.

Killer pauses. 

He sits back. 

He inadvertently puts pressure on Penguin’s face, pushing him against the bed, and Penguin groans in protest. 

“The heart pirates?” Killer asks. 

“You’ve HEARD OF ME?” Penguin squeaks. 

“…that’s a yes,” Killer says. Then he’s kissing Penguin again.

Then he’s moving down, sucking a bruise into Penguin’s neck, and only disconnecting long enough to say, “Kid’s going to kill me when he finds out.” 

“As long as he doesn’t— kill ME,” Penguin complains, writhing under Killer’s teeth. 

He feels Killer grin against his neck.

“I’ll let your uptight captain know where to find you in the morning,” Killer says. 

“He’s not uptight,” Penguin argues (lies). But then Killer’s working hickies into his neck again and Penguin decides he’s just going to embrace being Straw Boy. Until morning, at least.

[tupznum]

Senses

Arthur Morgan X male reader

《○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○》

Warning: violence, injury, not proofread

I cannot see, but I can hear.

I hear the sound of footsteps on an old creaky wooden floor and distant voices outside the room. I can hear a person sitting in front of me sharpening their knife, and another to my left cleaning the barrel of a gun. I hear the whistle of the wind billowing through the cracks of the walls.

I cannot see, but I can feel.

I feel the blindfold around my eyes and the ropes that bind my wrists and ankles. I feel the rope that is wrapped around my neck, keeping me on my knees. I feel the splintered wood digging into my bruised and tattered knees. I feel pain, blood running down my face, and the warmth of another on my back. I feel fingers interlock with mine, and I feel their bindings pushing against mine.

I cannot see, but I can smell.

I can smell the fire that blazed in the other room. I can smell the distinct iron smell of blood. I can smell the aroma of gunpowder and cigarettes emanating from the person whose back is flush against mine.

The sudden sound of a door being slammed open fills my ears.

"All right, who do we got here?" a brassy voice speaks rhythmically.

"This here is Arthur Morgan and (M/N) (L/N), boss," a voice that is surprisingly high-pitched but masculine in nature speaks up.

The sound of footsteps circles around us, and I hear the sound of paper crumpling.

"They got a mighty fine bounty, enough to get us to Canada," a deeper voice speaks up, judging by the accent, a Colombian man.

"Give me that," the brassy-sounding boss snaps, the sound of paper being snatched followed.

"Holy shit... Arthur Morgan's bounty $5000, (M/N) (L/N) $4000, both wanted dead or alive. Ain't that convenient?" The room fills with conniving laughter.

"Seems all I have to do is put a bullet through your sorry heads and drag your pathetic corpses to the nearest law and claim my money." I feel the air shift as he walks by, and I dare not say a word.

"If you kill us, I assure you that y'all will never feel another day of peace in your lives," I feel Arthur squeeze my clammy hand in comfort.

"And why is that?" the brassy-voiced man sneers.

"Our boys will come looking for us, and when they find y'all, they'll kill yah even if it's the last thing they do," Arthur replies calmly, and I can feel his thumb caressing my hand.

"They probably noticed our absence by now," I finally speak up.

"Really now? Where are they then, huh?" The high-pitched man says mockingly.

The room goes silent; no one speaks. Only then do the three men realize how eerily quiet it is outside.

I couldn't help but smirk. "Maybe one of your men outside knows."

"Shut up!" he hisses, sending a harsh kick to my stomach. I feel pain erupt throughout my abdomen, making me topple over, but that is only met with the tightening of the rope around my neck, forcing me to straighten up to avoid asphyxiation.

"You two, get your fucking asses out there and see what the hell's going on," the man practically barks orders at the two. Although I cannot see, I can hear them pick up their weapons and slowly exit the room. The room is quiet for a moment, but the subtle sound of something blunt and heavy hitting the floor radiates throughout the room. This seems to have scared the boss of our kidnappers, as I can feel and hear him scurry across the room only to return to my side. I feel the rope around my neck being tugged back and forth as if the rope is being cut. Suddenly, the rope is tugged sideways, dragging me across the room by my neck. I can't help but choke. A loose nail hooking onto my arm restraints only choking me further as he yanked harder

"Hey. Get your fucking hands off him!" Arthur's raspy voice can be heard, slight panic emanating from it. I can hear him struggling to get something.

I am suddenly brought to my feet, and not even seconds later, I feel the cold metal pressed against my neck. "You think you can outsmart me?" He speaks, the smell of whiskey and moonshine emanating from his breath it tickles the side of my face. Suddenly, a hand collides with my face, dragging the blindfold off in one swoop. The room was quite dark so my eyes adjusted immediately though the site in front of me was quite unsatisfactory.

Similar to the way I was restrained Arthur sat in the middle of the room blindfold half off his face, his hands tied behind his back with a rope rap around his neck keeping him on his knees connected to what seemed to be a pig's hook hanging from the ceiling. With further inspection I was quick to realize that we were being held inside of a butchering room whether or not the blood on the ground belong to a pig or a human I cannot tell.

suddenly a hand grabbed onto my chin roughly, my head was yanked to the side the man's face in my peripherals.

"Quit looking around you fucking cunt" the man spat at me quite literally I had to resist the urge to bring my hands up to wipe the saliva off my face.

"Don't be Hasty now" I laugh nervously.

"I'm sure we can come up with an agreement our life for yours, How does that sound?" I tried to reason. But the man's judgment seem to be clogged with fear so instead of bargaining he brought the barrel of his gun to my temple.

"I'm not a fucking idiot you'll kill me anyhow" he practically growled like an animal.

So he was listening I thought

I can't talk my way out of this and the boys outside aren't doing anything they probably know that I'll be shot if they try and Arthur is rendered useless at the moment.

The man currently holding me hostage started walking backward into a corner seemingly planning to use me as a human shield if gunfire were to erupt. With his hands away from my chin this gave me a moment to look around again, I looked at Arthur, and with the new angle I realize he'd undone his hand restraints. we made eye contact, he moved his eyes over to the gun and back to me. I could only hope that we were thinking the same thing as I got ready to execute the plan we seem to have telepathically decided on.

I tap my fingers around the ropes around my wrist to feel any weak spots and there was, the Rope was frayed barely a thread holding on. it must have been when it caught on a nail on the floor. One hard tug could do the trick in Breaking the Rope but it was a Gamble.

"Where are those fuckers" I heard the man grumble to himself

I closed my eyes and thought about the likelihood of this plan working the man was drunk which made him sloppy but he was on high alert and Afraid which would make him Trigger Happy. I can only hope that the effects of the alcohol on his brain worked faster than his trigger finger.

I look back at Arthur and slowly blinked at him hoping he'll get the message that I'm about to execute the plan that I hope we're both on board with. He seemed to have got the message as he slowly blinked black.

I tense my arms up slightly and brought them together as I took a deep breath I leaned my head forward it got ready. In one Swift motion I pulled my arms apart breaking the rope and brought my head back as hard as possible right into the man's nose. with the pain in his nose and the effect of the alcohol he couldn't register what happened fast enough before I brought my arm up and slap the revolver as hard as I possibly can towards Arthur. while that was going down Arthur was quick too take the Rope off from around his neck and reached out for the revolver. The gun slide across the floor right between his fingers and passed him he quickly flung himself backwards and gripped on to the barrel of the gun and turn back around onto his back and pointed the gun at the man's head. The man had put me into a headlock slowly choking me, I could feel my Airways being pinched and see my vision going black suddenly a very sharp pain erupted from my side, the bastard stabbed me, I know that pain too well. I suddenly heard the firing of the revolver and soon followed the feeling of steaming hot blood splattering across my face soaking my clothing. The man slumped down to the ground and as a result the handle of the knife was dragged down and the tip was dragged up only deepening and worsening the wound I soon collapse face first into the ground next to the body with a grown.

"M/N!" Arthur Yelled haphazardly

I couldn't see but I could hear the sound of Arthur's footsteps hurrying towards me and the sound of the door smashed open.

"Finally decided to make your entry" I joked to the Gang.

"Someone give me something to cover this damn wound" Arthur said to no one in particular

I roll over to my back holding back a grown

"Dumbass looks fine to me" John commented

Having no energy to talk anymore or to deal with this bullshit I flipped him off.

After rummaging in his bag Bill walked over and handed Arthur a tourniquet looking piece of cloth, he wrapped around my waist and around my wound I let out on a unnatural sounding noise as he tightened it full force.

"Sorry" I heard him whisper.

Seeing as I was being taken care of the rest of the gang walked out of the room probably looting the place.

"Think you can walk" Arthur asked.

"Fuck no, I feel like I'm about to pass out from pain just laying here" I replied with a grunt.

All right was all he said as he put one of my arms over his shoulder bringing one of his arms my knees and another on my back he hoisted me up.

"You got him there Arthur?" Dutch asked from the doorway.

"Yeah I got him" he said.

He walked out of the butchering room and into the main area making his way to the front door and stopped he turned towards Dutch

"I'm going to go ahead of you guys and bring him to Camp so the ladies can Pat him up before he bleeds to death" Arthur informed Dutch.

Dutch nodded towards Arthur and said "all right"

Arthur walked out the front door and into the snowy landscape he stopped a good distance for the door and whistled. A few moments later his horse emerged from the Bush. I sat quietly with my head against his chest as he walked over to his horse.

"I'm going to set you up here hold on all right" he said gently

He brought my legs upwards towards the back of the horse and I helped by swinging my legs over he then brought my back upwards this left me in a sideways sitting position on the arss of the horse with my legs together I slowly and painfully lifted my left leg up and over the horse to properly set all the while Arthur held onto my waist at least the part that wasn't damaged.

Once I was sat properly on the horse Arthur hoisted himself onto the horse reaching back and grabbing my arms and wrapping them around his waist.

"This is going to be a painful and bumpy ride so don't be afraid to Lean on me if you feel like passing out" he said calmly rubbing his finger on my knuckles.

"This ain't my first rodeo Arthur I'll be fine" I said with a careful laugh.

Him humd in response.

We start to move forward and I quickly found out that this wound was a lot more painful than the ones I'm used to so I quickly ended up doubling over onto Arthur's back in pain. The feeling of the disconnected flesh rubbing together was definitely no joy.

"I thought this wasn't your first rodeo l/n?" He laughed

I slapped him on the arm and response

"shut your ass up and don't start with the last name bullshit again we're past that already" I groaned.

The winter air mixed with the blood loss sent shivers down my spine so despite the pain I scooted myself further up against Arthur and held on tighter to him and hoped to Rob some of his body heat, he didn't seem to care thankfully.

The pain started to get more intense and I became light-headed Arthur must have noticed as he came to a stop and turned to look at me.

"Do you want to take a break?" he asked

"No keep going," I said tiredly

"I think you'll pass out if we do," he said with concern.

"Exactly, keep going I'll pass out eventually and I won't feel anything" I half-joked.

He didn't say anything but he turned his head back to the pathway and kept moving forward.

Just as I predicted I start to feel lightheaded and my vision start to go black from the pain. I soon Slipped Away into the darkness. The feeling of pain but also the feeling of Arthur's callused hands holding onto my wrists was the last thing I felt "I'll see you when you wake up" was the last thing I heard