#i am not sure but it seems there is some blood trapped in the second skin ovo

[mitamicah]

The finished result 😁

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi love can I get a tiramisu with a side hot coffee (w baby trapping) made freash by Max Verstappen ty 💛

bakery menu (complete)

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i have tons of items to choose from and i'd love for you to check them out! any driver is available (must be 18+, duh) so please feel free to throw your orders my way <3 i love the way your mind thinks, lovely anon. that's one way to get competition off the track! i hope you love the fic!

tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, baby trapping, (technically) unprotected sex, jos verstappen jumpscare, missionary & mating press,

max knew the hunger of racing. it was almost a blood lust. it was a fire in the belly of a driver that pushed them to such limits that it would kill some. formula one drivers were all striving to be the best. max knew this quite well, spending years in a shadow he could never escape. he yearned for approval but it always came to him like a bitter pill. but, not you. you were the track's princess, praise came to you on a silver platter.

and it annoyed the hell out of max. many prayed for his downfall both on a driving level, but also on a personal level. people wanted him to fail, but those same people wanted you to fly high to a second world championship.

so when he saw his own father smiling at you and give you a firm hand shake followed by a pat on the back after a spectacular win. max knew there was one thing to do.

make sure you never stepped foot on the track again.

"c'mon, schat." max said as he leaned against the doorway of the motor home on the track. he saw you walk by back to your teams. he crossed his arms and watched you on shaky legs.

you made a face, "treasure?" you laughed, your voice bounced a little down the row of motor homes for the weekend, "max verstappen, do you forget who i am?"

he snickered, "currently you look like a shaky deer. why are you in heels, you never wear heels?" the two of you butt heads often. you seemed to get under each other's skin often enough.

"it's called going on a date, max. have you heard of those? plus, shouldn't you be fucking some grid bunny tonight? we are on your home turf, might as well trap some poor girl with your bastard."

he laughed louder, "funny. were you having a night on the town? i bet you opened your legs to whatever manager you could find. whoever would give you the biggest contract." his words were biting and so were yours. while it was always better to catch flies with honey than vinegar.

it was easier to catch a rival with vitriol than kindness.

you got your heels off and threw them one after the other towards him before you stopped over bare foot to get in his face. you got onto the small porch and he was all smiles.

"do you have-"

"of course. after all, you're not the first grid bunny of the weekend." then pulled you into the motor home with a slam of the front door. before you could chew him out for that term being used towards you. he had you pressed against the door of the motor home with your leg wrapped around his hip and his large hand pushing up the already short skirt of your dress.

he had no interest in any of the fans with his face plastered across their fat tits. while the women of his home country were beautiful, his eyes were set on the snapping jaws of another driver.

his lips down your neck, teeth grazed across your pulse point and it made you shudder. nipples grew hard under his touch. he started to grope your breasts and you moaned out loud in the near empty motor home.

clothes were shed, leaving you vulnerable. it was a surprise that you made it to the bed. for a brief moment as you dragged him to the bedroom, max thought he was going to breed his future wife on the linoleum wooden floor. and max may have wanted you bred asap but, he wasn't going to hurt your poor elbows and knees. his wife deserved the best, you were going to be doing a big thing. giving birth to the next legend of the track.

"schat." he said softly his mouth to your ear. his strong arms wrapped around you and pulled to his chest. his hands then went to your breasts where he groped the flesh, near bruising them. they were only going to get prettier once you got pregnant. he felt lucky tonight.

"max. fuck." you groaned before you managed to pull yourself away from him and get onto the bed. you propped yourself up on your elbows as you gazed at him. he eyed your beauty as he got closer to you and the bed. his cock at full attention.

oh yeah, you'd never step foot in a car again after tonight. well give it a few weeks and then you'll be off the track for good. he got between your legs on the bed. he got those lovely thighs around him as he continued to gaze at your figure.

"pretty thing." he said, "should i be worried that another man touched you tonight? or were you a good girl?"

you looked at him, "you're not my husband. max. you don't own me."

max smiled before he leaned over you, his bare cock almost slipped into your slick hole as he grabbed a condom from the box in the nightstand. you were trying to get out from under him before he slipped in without protection. a condom was what you thought was your savior. but, max had pricked little holes in it earlier, when he found out you'd be back to the track late.

you watched him get the condom on, the low light made it almost impossible to notice that there were small tears int he tip of the condom. with enough force of his hips, max could probably tear through it. you held onto his forearms as he rubbed his cock up against you for a few moments before he sank inside your sweet cunt. it made him groan and feel a heat in him.

"perfect little thing. i bet you thought about me while you were out. thought about all the thing i'd do you that's why you came in here, right? because you knew you'd get that cunt fucked out."

you felt your ears burn as he continued to rut against you. you dug your short nails into his arms as he thrusted against you. his cock was like a bully, just like the rest of him. but it made your toes curl as you laid under him.

max verstappen was your rival and now he was too busy gorging on your cunt like he owned it. like you were a couple. but, little did you know. the plan was going well in max's mind. it wasn't a difficult one anyway. he just needed his achy, thick cock inside of your gooey cunt and finish inside of you. the rest was biology's doing so he could take his hands off the wheel for that.

and if you weren't pregnant there was a whole other leg of the season plus the off season to really make sure it took. but, you strived for perfection, it was written in your dna. so you'd be good and take him the first time. let his baby sprout in your sweet womb. no need to think about racing when you're caring for his child.

"jij bent de mijne." he said like a promise as he picked up the pace. his cock shoved into the softest parts of you. for such a bitch on the track, your pussy was gummy soft and just pulled him in.

you whined and arched your back. max enjoyed the heavy rise and fall of your pretty breasts. oh, you were beautiful. maybe he was lucky, giving you a baby now. not allow anyone else on the grid to get a taste of you. because you were the kind of woman that men got addicted to.

he picked your hips up further and started to really work at it. your legs were over his shoulders while he fucked you with such vigor that you couldn't find it in you to grip onto the covers under your back. your toes curled while he pounded into you. heat flashed across your body and you felt like you were on fire.

you panted and moaned while max was determined to breed you. you'd be such a pretty mother to his children. did you think he was stopping at one? no. because with you he was going to breed champions and that fact made pleasure lick up in his stomach. he watched you squirm a little as you neared climax and it made max hot all over.

yeah, it was only right that he bred you. keep you off the track and at home with the kids. no need to step on anymore toes in formula one. retire with grace and raise his kids. put that hot feminine body of yours to good use, grow them well in your soft womb. be good for your husband.

he leaned further, pushing you further into yourself to kiss you hotly on the lips once more. he felt your cunt tighten around him as you panted heavily. he had you in a full mating press as his cock bruised your sweet insides. poor thing, marked forever by your rival. the kissed between you two were hot and left heat dripping through your body. his cock felt heavy between your legs. pushing you to your limit. that was a good future mrs. verstappen. you climaxed, he watched bliss crossed your face as you tensed up then relaxed. your heart hammered in your ears as you laid under him, knees to your chest and over his shoulders while his leaky blunt cock head hit against you.

he came soon after, but even when he stilled to a stop. he kept the position to make sure every last drop knew where to go. now wasn't the time for mishaps. he knew that the condom was fully torn at the tip. there was nothing protecting that pretty cunt of yours.

sorry, schat, that was the game. and as max looked into your dazed eyes, he thought that you didn't mind. when he put your legs down and got you on your stomach.

you whimpered a little and he shushed you with heated kiss. he didn't even try to pretend he changed the condom before he was back to being inside of you. you two had a long night together.

max hungered for a lot of things, but as he listened to your sweet whimper and moans, he hungered for one thing. your cunt happily drooling down his cock.

-

"think he's going to do it?" max asked, his arms crossed over your rounded middle. his head on your shoulder as you both watched your eldest son do a second lap on the track.

you looked at him and replied, "of course he will. he's our son." your son, remko was eight now and had taken to the track like nothing else. maybe max's plan didn't work when he made you retire years earlier due to being pregnant with your son. you would eventually step on the track again, first watching your husband win three more championships and now your son taking an interest in it.

you turned back to your son as he hugged the curves of the track. you worried your bottom lip a little. it was a little too much hugging for your liking. you rubbed your lower back. maybe it was the pregnancy emotions getting to you. making you worry.

your career ended after two championships. something you held with pride. you were married to max now, had a son and expecting another in a few short months. as max rubbed your middle and kissed your cheek. you did get one thing out of it though, a promise from your young son that while he would race under the verstappen last name, he'd happily race under your country's flag.

so while you couldn't bring your nation joy, you'd be nothing but smiles when your son held the flag high in due time. some would've considered that max trapped you with a baby (or rather two). but those same blue eyes and charming smile still lured you in. even though you had your doubts about that night being an 'accident', there was nothing you could really do now. both your boys needed their father.

"i love you." max said, hand wide across your swollen middle.

you looked at him, your rival turned husband. as your son crossed the finish line for his practice, you kissed your husband on the lips. the time of the laps were called and you said to max, "i love you too." then watched your husband pull away to congratulate remko on a good practice.

knowing your luck both of your kids will be in racing. and you knew if max had his way, the entire future grid would have the verstappen last name. <3

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)³ retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. { his pov } [ one, two, three]

she’s like a breath of fresh air. bright and cold. a gust so frigid that it sends goosebumps to shroud his skin. like the first fall of snow. was it december now? how long has it been since he’d left? how long has he wandered? adrift like a buoy at sea. but strangely stuck, straying in place. like some sort of ghost. trapped and terrified.

he thinks she’s naive. strange, even. like a child left outside without supervision. prone to being up to no good. she’s insistent in her little fiat car. her hands are covered in a pair of creme wool gloves. and when he looks close enough he notices that they’re fraying at the seam. worn. loved.

she says her name. it’s pretty, her name. it fits. she’s expectant, waiting for him to speak. give her something, anything he’s sure. she seems like a good girl. too good, too much for him, not enough for her. he hardly even knew her. but she wants to know you. she’s being nice. nothing more. simon. that’s what he tells her and it rolls off her tongue faultlessly. “well, we’re not strangers anymore, simon.” is what she says. he finds her amusing.

it’s her eyes. that’s what makes him slide into the passenger seat. they're wide. warm. nervous— despite her being the one to offer him a ride. it’s endearing, if not a bit entertaining. and the cold has already frozen his body. he can hardly feel his feet. but he deserves this. this life that he’s been subjected to.

she’s an anxious thing. her gloved hands drum lightly against the steering wheel. she’s shit at making small talk. and from the reflection of the car window, he can see the way she works her bottom lip into her mouth. he’s tempted to thumb it from within the wet heat. he doesn't.

“could be a killer.” she smiles. her eyes brighten. it’s small but he finds himself forgetting to breathe. in and out. in and out. she smells temptingly like honey and spices, all tangy and sweet. fuck. he holds his breath. “are you?” he doesn't respond. after all the killing. the blood that stains his hands. his skin. won't come off no matter how hard he scrubs. he’s a murderer. yes, i am. she’s too trusting. he wouldn't hurt her. never.

small. is how he would describe the apartment. small but homey. filled with greenery, color, and a tiny christmas tree. it’s tucked away. surrounded by lights at its base. it smells like chocolate, milk to be specific. but her as well. honeyed spices and dried fruits, tangy and sweet. the radio that he hears plays quietly. silent night in instrumental. his heart tightens in his chest.

he’s not sure how he ended up here. surrounded by her four walls. she suggests sweetly. eyes wide and sad at his destination. he declines. she isn't the type to take no for an answer. her brows are knitted. hands tightening. he’s enamored. he shouldn't stay. he should tuck and roll out the car while he has the chance. run. like he’s used to doing. too late the two pull in. she’s pleased with herself. he grins faintly beneath his mask. cute.

the couch is a bed. it pulls out into one anyway. she busies herself. shuffling to get sheets and a comforter. it’s a faded baby blue, printed with delicate flowers. and she looks proud. smiling at the cozy couch. her lips are coated in a sheen. from the lip balm she’d put on a second ago. and he adverts his eyes when she looks toward him. couldn't meet those wide eyes. sweet and nervous. he stares instead at the makeshift bed. she speaks. grins awkwardly.

“thank you.” he means it. it’s stiff. his voice hoarse from the cold but, he means it— no matter how gruff it comes out. her hands. no longer swathed by wool gloves, slide down denim-clad thighs. lips press. and her head nods. she says his name again, but scurries before he can reply, and maybe it’s for the best. he can barely speak.

click.

he shouldn't. but he finds himself amused. good girl. he was still a stranger after all. a strange man she has willingly invited into her home. he wondered briefly if she was right in the head. right to slow for him. to smile at him. she couldn't be. unsure. he can’t get comfortable. just lays there and listens to her faint voice. walls thin. voice muffled. but words clear. “die tonight.”— “…love you.” he ponders.

he doesn't remember a ring. friend? mom? boyfriend? his heart aches. he doesn't know her. he has no right to feel anything. she was nice, too good. he was the opposite, with nowhere to go. nothing to offer. why was he here? he should leave. but sleep weighs heavy on his eyes. bing crosby lulls him to sleep. he’d be gone before she woke.

i've always thought simon to have very choppy thoughts. and always being very in his head. very observant. so yeah. listened to christmas music making this! hehehe

[amomentsescape]

Hello I am craving angst. Hey can you do a headcanon for the slashers? [Maybe Slasher X reader] Like could you do headcanons. What if the Slashers found their SO has been killed? or Maybe headcanon for Slashers if they accidently killed their so?

Sorry if my grammar is bad.

Slashers Reacting to the Death of Reader

Slashers x Reader (Individual)

Warnings: Mentions of death & killing, some cuss words, ANGST

A/N: All aboard the angst train! I kind of combined your request so some of the Slashers are about Reader accidentally being killed by them and some are an "outside" murder.

Freddy Krueger

He specifically told you not to come into his Dream World tonight

It was too chaotic, too much going on

His victim was a lot faster than he had anticipated

So he did his best to catch up with them

But he just couldn't seem to get close enough

So finally, Freddy's anger took over and he caused the sky to rain knives onto the poor teen

Once things were silent, he walked over to his victim, only to see another body laying further back

Freddy's breath caught

He ran over and saw you

You weren't supposed to be here

He told you not to come

Your eyes were already glazed over when Freddy picked you up

His eyes were going hazy, and he was staggering to your shared bed

He laid you down, your blood immediately soaking through the sheets

And it was only then that Freddy screamed a terrible sound into the world

The whole town would soon be reduced to nothing

Michael Myers

God, he didn't mean to

He just couldn't stand it in that moment

You were upset with him, arguing about how he can't just disappear for days on end without so much as a word

But he was just pissed

None of his killings went as planned, he could barely feel a thing, and here you were yelling about him not being around

It was too much, and he just needed the sensory overload to stop

His mind went dark

It felt like just a moment until he gathered his senses

But when he was able to finally focus, your limp frame was in his arms

Your neck was severely bruised, and there were still fresh tears on your cheeks

He couldn't have done this... right?

He kneeled there with you in his arms

He didn't cry, didn't yell, didn't even move

He just stayed frozen in that position, feeling absolutely nothing

Whatever humanity he had left, it died with you

There was nothing holding him back now

Jason Voorhees

There had only been a couple circumstances when a victim escaped Jason

And even then, none dared to go anywhere near those woods again

Except for one

For some reason, the death of his friends was too much

He was seeking revenge

Jason was inside the cabin cleaning up his machete while you were out picking flowers

You were wanting to make him a flower crown

He immediately dropped everything when he heard a single gunshot ring out through the desolate area

He sprung up, walking out to find you

It didn't take long before he saw a man leaning over a body, apologizing profusely over and over again

When he realized who was lying on the ground, he immediately ripped the man's head off, not even wasting a second

He lifted you in his arms, frantic on what to do

With your last moments, you struggled to smile and grip onto his hand, giving him a silent reassurance

He watched you go limp in his arms

He laid there with you for an eternity, feeling utterly lost

By the evening, he had a gravesite set up for you, and he was already packed

He was going to head into town this time

He would make sure there would be no survivors

Thomas Hewitt

It was just a freak accident

Thomas had gotten in up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, slipping away to the shed

However, you had no idea where he had went

Fearing the worst, you walked out into the night, looking around for him

But in your worried state, you forgot about one of the traps set up outside

You accidentally triggered it and was immediately impaled

Thomas heard the trap go off and quickly rushed over to it

The moment he saw you, his heart dropped

He ran over and held you, trying to get the trap off of you

But you pleaded with him to leave you be, knowing your fate already

He was frantic, begging and crying with you to let him help

But you knew it was too late

You reached out and touched his masked face, offering a warm smile before your head dropped

Thomas took care of your body, having his family help make a gravesite for you

He was never the same after your death, and he became the most brutal killer out of everyone

Bubba Sawyer

The newest victim was willing to do whatever it took to survive

In a frenzy, they didn't even register what was happening

They saw you and immediately stabbed you in the stomach, quickly sprinting away thereafter

You screamed for Bubba, your body unable to move from the pain

It didn't take long for him to come to you, the area being filled with his whimpers and gasps of fear

He tried to turn you over, but it only caused you to let out cries

He was looking around frantically, trying to figure out what to do

But you just asked him to lay with you, knowing that help would never make it in time

He did as you asked, you both crying together

The moment you went silent, the air was filled with his screams

He was inconsolable

The moment he found the victim hiding away, he did his absolute worst to them

He didn't care about food in that moment

He wanted to invoke as much pain as possible

Your body was carefully tucked away in bed, Bubba refusing to leave your side for days

Brahms Heelshire

You were hoping to surprise Brahms, sneaking out in the night to pick some berries for tomorrow's breakfast

He normally slept like a rock, giving you ample time to complete the task

However, this night, he found himself awake to an empty bed

When he discovered you about to walk out the door, he went into a rage

How could you abandon him like this? Didn't you love him anymore?

He grabbed at you viciously, not seeing anything else but red

You tried to plead with him, telling him that you weren't going to leave

But this all fell on deaf ears

He wasn't thinking, he just grabbed at you and slammed you into the ground, your head bouncing from the force

He only stopped his attack when he saw the empty look on your face, and suddenly everything began to sink in

He froze up and began to cry, collapsing on top of your body

He didn't mean to

He pleaded to you that he didn't want to hurt you

He ended up placing your body on the couch, tucking the doll into your arms

At least this way, there was no possible chance that you could try to leave him again

Norman Bates

He blacked out

He didn't mean to, but something inside of him snapped when he noticed Mother's things had been misplaced

When he finally came to, you were lying in your shared bed, a knife sticking straight up from your chest

Norman became hysterical, not understanding what had happened

"N-no, no, no...."

He cried into your shoulder, holding your body close to his

It didn't take long for his mind to become numb, his teary eyes staring dazedly off into space

He ended up pulling another chair next to Mother, sitting your body beside hers

Mother always loved you, and Norman was sure she'd appreciate the company

It's okay, he reassured himself

You're home with him and Mother

He has his family still

Nothing is wrong

How could it be? You're still here with him...

Billy Loomis

You didn't tell him where you'd be tonight

It was just supposed to be a small get together, nothing important

So why did it matter?

But little did you know, Ghostface would be making an appearance

Billy was quick to get through the small group, eventually making his way around the corner to the next room

However, as you turned to figure out what was going on, your body ran straight into him

Not wanting to have a victim slip from his grip, he stabbed the knife into them quickly, not wasting any time

However, the moment his gaze tilted up, he saw those familiar eyes

As your body dropped, he caught you, ripping off his mask

"(Y/N)?! What the hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be at home-"

"Billy?" you croaked out

"It's me, baby. Oh my god..."

His voice broke and the tears began to slip down his face unwillingly

Your eyes began to flutter, and he started to shake you in his arms

"Don't you dare fucking do that. You stay with me, alright?"

But your eyes soon glazed over, and Billy found himself yelling at your lifeless body

"DON'T DO THIS TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!"

Without you, there would no longer be mercy

Stu Macher

It was supposed to be a fun night together

It wasn't unusual for you to join Stu on his sprees

He loved having you by his side, being there to help him do something he enjoys

But this group was different than the others

They fought back

And when there was only one person left, they somehow managed to grab a nearby kitchen knife and slam it straight into your chest

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Stu screamed

He took his own knife and slashed a gaping wound into they're neck, killing them quickly

He kneeled down beside you, taking your face in his hands

"Hey, hey! You're gonna be okay, alright?"

But you just shook your head

"Look at me. Look at me!"

You did your best to meet his eyes, trying to stay conscious

"I'm gonna get you out of here, and then we'll- (Y/N)?!"

Your eyes had closed, and your head drooped in his hands

Stu began to scream, begging and cursing for you to come back

Eric Draven

One of the first rules Eric gave to you was to never go looking for him at night

It didn't matter how late it was or how long it had been

You stayed home where it was safe, no matter what

But on this night, you broke his rule

Eric was supposed to be back hours ago, and yet you were alone in your bed, worried sick

You eventually gave in and went out into the night, searching for him

But unfortunately, someone else was watching you, quickly jumping out and stabbing you in the neck

They took your wallet and ran, leaving you to bleed out on the sidewalk

But it was only a matter of seconds before a familiar figure ran up to you, placing his cold hands against the wound in your neck

"Goddammit! What did I tell you?!" Eric cried

You tried to speak, but nothing came out but warm blood

"(Y/N), please don't go. Come on, you're strong. Stay with me"

You reached your bloody hand out, caressing Eric's cheek softly before your whole body went limp in his arms

His cries could be heard echoing throughout the night

Without you, he has nothing

[certainlynotasimp]

Okay, first of all, how are you? Hope you’re doing well! Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated- Second off, your Sunny fics? *chef’s kiss* so mainly, what if anybody made Sunny cry and Miguel had to find out about it? And Sunny’s trying not to make it seem like a big deal in order to keep Miguel from, you know, absolutely obliterating anyone.

Come on, Baby, Cry.

((Miguel O' Hara X Female! Reader))

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for the compliment. All my readers? *Extra chef's kisses* I am very hydrated and I got so excited to write this for you and to add some angsty content lol. I hope you enjoy this and let me know if you are disappointed or if you love it.

A/N: I also wanna address two things before I post this too. 1) thank you so much to the anon who asked me to include translations for the Spanish phrases as I was honestly not thinking about doing that. I will do better to include the translations at the end of the fics. 2) There are gonna be some triggering topics explored in this one-shot so if you don't want to hear about near injuries to children or child loss, then I understand if you don't want to read it. Feel free to enjoy my other fanfics and here's the post where you can stay notified on happier Sunny and Miggy fanfics.

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is just their nickname, not their actual name.)), Female pronouns, PTSD, Mentions of Child Loss, Endangerment of a Child ((No children were actually hurt, just traumatized)), Trauma, Comforting, Fluff, Angry Miguel, and Google Translate Spanish.

The room fills with squeals and giggles as the chase between the chubby toddler and the jumping spider. Mayday swings her little self around the corridor as the young woman follows behind amused by how agile the little tyke was. 

‘Maybe she’ll make a good sidekick in the future.’ The smiling woman muses in her mind before a bloody image flashes in her mind. Shaking her head, she clears the idea out of her mind as Mayday reaches an open window. 

Her quick scream of horror as she accidentally swings herself out of the window causes the woman’s blood to run cold as she flings herself out of the window after her. “MAYDAY!”

The adrenaline coming from her heightened fear causes the whole thing to appear to be trapped in time as the spider woman falls with the screeching infant falling inches away. Tears clouded her vision as she shoots out her webbing to the pillars around them as the images of flames lick at her eyes. 

So many flames, and too many buildings at once. Screams and pleas from below as she tries to be there. They didn’t matter to her, not at that moment. The only one who mattered was him. Did he scream like that too or did he not even feel it?

Using her webbing, she quickly creates a hammock for Mayday to fall on a few feet from the ground, thankfully trapping the wailing infant so she can’t escape. Unfortunately, reality doesn’t set in time for the spider as she slams into the titanium flooring below, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Many spidermen gathered as they heard the commotion, but she could only focus her blurry vision above her as she tries to regain her sight. A familiar blur of bright pink swings up and grabs the ball of ginger hair in a muddled mess of cries. He quickly drops down to where the disoriented woman was splayed out below with the whimpering infant in his arms.

“Hey, Sunny, you alright?” Peter calls his friend. The damage didn’t look bad from the outside, but he was sure she had some nasty concussion with how she was looking at him.

Hobie crouches down beside the crumbled girl and carefully lifts her head up with one hand. “Oi, Sunshine, you there?” He mutters as he looks into her eyes. He holds up his hand and makes three fingers pop up. “How many fingers do you see, love?”

With a cough, the woman croaks out, “Three?” Her eyes begin to focus as her enhanced healing works out the stars in her vision. With the help of Hobie and Peter, she stands up with a whimper at the feeling of her shattered ribs forming back together. “Damn, I forgot that falling several feet actually hurt.” She attempts to joke despite her wheezing breath. The crowd around them laughs as Peter sighs in relief.

“Thank god, you’re alright.” Peter mourns as a glint of regret shines in his eyes. “I’m sorry for all this, Sunny. I shouldn’t have let her bring the web shooter here. She almost swings herself out of the window all the time and MJ told me that one day I won’t be there to help the next time it happens.” Mayday’s cries end as she sees her favorite play partner up and well as she shows off her gummy smile.

“Well, luckily I was here to save the day.” The disoriented spider muses as she returns the infant’s smile as the men chuckle. The crowd dissipates leaving the injured spider with her two friends.

“I’m still really sorry, P. I got distracted and didn’t see that the window was open.” She winces as she blames herself for being so neglectful.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. This little rascal will probably send me to an early grave with all the mischief she causes.” Peter jokes as he tickles his now roaming daughter, chuckling at her excited squeals.

“Good thing you don’t have a kid, Sunny.” Hobie chuckles. “You would lose them in a heartbeat.”

The bright atmosphere shatters as the woman abruptly pulls away from her friends. The men look at her confused until they saw the look in her eyes. The normal warm and inviting gaze that they all thrived under was gone, only a dark void was staring back at them. Their light now shining in hurt and sadness as memories cloud her mind. Her lip trembles in a tight line as tears begin to roll down her face. 

Hobie looks confused at the sudden shift, but Peter realizes something as he looked at his trembling friend. Her eyes burned with tears as they locked with his. She had a haunted look about her. It's a look only parents can ever understand and fear. The look Peter himself almost experienced. “Hey,(y-” Before Peter can comfort her, she activates her mask and turns invisible before running off, her muffled sobs leaving them speechless.

Hobie groans as he realizes two things. One, he just made the sweetest person in the world cry. And Two,...

Miguel is gonna kill him.

~~~~~~~

The warm glow of the portal illuminates the surveillance room as the blue spider steps out covered in a musty yellow goo. Lyla smirks as she observes the little chucks slipping onto the ground as Miguel attempts to dust off the slime from his large shoulders.

“Was your mission successful, boss?” The assistant snarks as she sends out a little robot to follow the annoyed Spiderman. The little bug-like contraption eagerly swallows up the disgusting mess Miguel left as he walks up to the platform. “The anomaly was captured and disposed of. Next time, warn me if William Baker is made of anything except sand.” He grumbles as the sound of the little robot annoyed him even more. 

“I’ll make a note of that.” The AI giggles as she downloads the mission info from Miguel’s gizmo. “Also ‘Miss Sunshine’ is here and she doesn’t seem too happy.” She says before fading out.

Miguel’s eyes widen upon hearing that his sunny partner was upset. She was never upset. Never. With concern eating away at him, Miguel shoots out a web and swings himself to the platform above. He lands softly as he sees the scene in front of him.

His sunshine sat in his usual seat in front of the monitor. Her costume was dirty with a chest compression brace wrapped around her ribs as her choked sobs wheeze out of her. Her mask was off as her head rested against the ice pack in her hand, her back leaned forward as her attention was focused on the image before her.

He already knew what was on the screen.

He knew that file name by heart just like how he knows Gabriella’s.

File SW-0001425

World 16457-0

Spider-Woman- (Y/N) (L/N)

Age of infection- 23

Occupation- Intern Medical Research Assistant in the Genetics Department of { REDACTED } working under Dr. {REDACTED}

Sacrifice: Ben (L/N), age 4, Son of (Y/N) (L/N), 1 year into being Spiderwoman

Cause of death: Blunt Force trauma and Smoke inhalation caused by a multi-location attack caused by { REDACTED}

Status of Universe: DESTROYED

On the screen, the laughing face of a younger Sunny shines as a chubby cheek of a baby boy with dark curls smooshes into hers. The faint sound of a child mimicking the smooch of a kiss can be heard as the overexaggerated gasp of the woman causes the toddler to squeal. “That was such a sweet kiss, Benny. Can mommy have another one?” The sweet voice soured the air as the sobbing woman mournfully watches her baby boy.

The baby she failed.

Miguel approaches behind her and slowly takes the mouse from her weak grasp. The broken woman sighs as she realizes her miggy is here with her now, but doesn’t turn to look at him as he pauses the video. Her baby’s matching eyes stare right back at her before Miguel turns the chair around to face him as his mask disintegrates. His eyes glow red under the light of the monitors as he searched her sore eyes. Her face was red with a noticeable bruise along the left side of her face. Tears and snot crusted over her soft features as her lips remained turned into a trembling whisper. Her pupil shone in self-loathing and searching for his comfort. He could tell that this episode isn’t just one of her low days, something happened.

Something happened and he wasn’t here to stop it.

Miguel closes his eyes as his hand caresses her cheek. The warmth of her flushing face nuzzling into his palm allowed him to ground his rage as he focuses his gaze back onto his beloved.

“Mi luz, ¿qué pasó?” He seethes as he looks deep into her eyes. 

She shakes her head as she tries to avoid looking into his concerned ruby gaze. The glass bridge was already cracked as she internally debated with sobbing everything that happened into his warm embrace or to protect her friend from the wrath she knows Miguel will unleash if he knows what was said. The warmth of his other palm cupping her cheek, guiding her to a wandering eye to look at his frowning face nearly broke her.

“It was nothing, Miggy…”She whispered as her voice trembled again. She tried to control her eyes from unknowingly confessing while she tries to bite the wobbling pout. “It was an accident…”

“What.” Miguel runs his thumb under her abused mouth as a piece of her disheveled hair was swept back. “Happened?” His demand is punctuated as he holds her in his stare. His eyes burned with barely contained fury and protectiveness as he studied her reactions. “Odio verte como la suya, mi amor.” He admits with a sigh.

Leaning forward, Miguel places a firm kiss on her forehead as his beloved’s breath shudders at his touch. The gentle heat under his touch left her trembling as the glass began to crack. “Let me ease your pain…” He whispers as he trails his kisses down to her eyelids. “These eyes are meant to be filled with happiness, not sorrow…” The cracks deepen as he gently kisses her nose. “I can’t undo what has happened…” The corners of her lips were caressed by his as his nose brushed against her cheeks causing her eyes to meet his mirrors. Her sorrow and helplessness are reflected in his ruby eyes as he kneels on the ground between her legs. A silent plea breaks the resolve she built as he mutters into her ear.

“Please, mi sol, at least let me feel your pain too…It's me and you against the universe remember…Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo.” He begs as the tension shatters. 

With her arms snaking around his shoulders, the little spider confesses all that happened hours prior into his ear. Each detail, each scar, burned into his mind as she clung to his neck and hair. His inferno of rage almost imploded until he looked back into her eyes again. The relief of letting go of all of her troubles made her face look years younger as she looked at him with her big vulnerable eyes. 

Hobie will have to wait. His love needed him now.

In a silent nod, Miguel wrapped her weak legs around his waist before he stood up. Feeling her snuggling into his throat, he carries her toward her room down the hallway while the annoying robot follows them to clean up the mess. As he enters the room, he releases some of his anger by smashing the bug with his foot. 

“What was that, Miggy?” She croaks as she weakly tries to look over his shoulder.

“Just a bug,” He sighs as he approaches her dresser and grabs his spare set of clothes from his drawer. “You want your clothes or mine?”

“Yours…” She shyly admits as he feels the heat returning to the cheek on his neck. 

“Muy bien, niña bonita. Lo que quieras.” He whispers as he grabs another set of clothes that he knows will swallow her. With that, he carries them into her personal bathroom and spent the night slowly bringing back his sunshine.

~~~~~~~~

A deep scream rings out through the Lobby as they see a flash of blue fury tackles the residential metal head into the ground. Peter hurries to save his colleague along with a few other Spidermen as Mayday laughs at the anarchist getting thrashed by the clawed man spewing Hispanic curses at him.

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Mi luz, ¿qué pasó? - My light, what happened?

mi sol - my sun

Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo. -Please don't leave me alone...I don't want to lose you again

~~~~~~~

taglist:

@ameliadraws 

@tojisrightnut

@whyareyoubored

@silly-lovestruck-em

@luvil1y

@chims-kookies

@himesuedi

@22carolina08

@chaoticevilbakugo

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@hoshhoshh

@isaidoop

@pheroineux

@rosiepetalss

@aniya7

[millenianthemums]

chapter 4 of the fic went up yesterday! had to finish the art before posting it here, though. some of the later pieces might not be this polished, i don’t wanna burn myself out.. not totally sure how to avoid that while also not completely losing motivation, but still.

PREVIOUS

NEXT

FIRST

———

(The air is on fire. The air is on fire and everyone he sees for miles around is burning, gasping and convulsing, scales peeling away and blood spilling out and melting in the heat. The screaming seems to fill the space around him so tightly that the air is crowded out, he can’t breathe, can’t move, and through all the chaos he can see one of them reaching for him, approaching on faulty, shaking, withering legs, reaching up for him as he floats above everything, eyes huge and glassy and accusing before they’re consumed by the flames, before their body curdles and their sides bow outwards, swelling like a lithium battery, and the last thing he hears before the flash that ignites everything is their tortured voice screaming WHY, WHY, WHY DID YOU DO IT…)

When Bill finally tore his eye open, all he saw was darkness.

At first, horror settled so heavily on his brain that he couldn’t even move. The darkness was suffocating, crushing him inward on all sides. He was trapped here again. Alone. No lifelines left. It was all over, and for a few seconds, the fear kept his muscles locked in place.

Then he screamed.

He leapt to his feet and staggered forward, clutching his face, tearing at his skin with his claws. “NO!! NO NO NO NO NO, I CAN’T GO BACK, I CAN’T–”

Then he realized he could hear his own voice. He could speak and move, and shapes were starting to melt out of the darkness around him. Wherever he was right now, whatever had happened, he was still alive.

Just as he realized this, a light switch clicked on.

Bill yelped at the sudden flash. He squeezed his eye shut as a roar of pain rushed through his head. When he forced his eyelid open again, a grappling hook was aiming right at it. He jumped and scrambled backward until his back hit a wall, glaring furiously up at his attacker. Then his eye finally adjusted, and widened in shock.

Mabel Pines was standing over him, pointing her stupid little piece of climbing equipment at him like a pistol. “I’ve got some questions,” she said, in a voice that was trying to sound dangerous.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?” Bill roared. His eye darted around, taking in his surroundings: a tiny, dusty room with a single out-of-reach window that appeared to be barred. “WHERE AM I?!” he demanded. “HOW DID I— WHAT—” as he looked around wildly, he spotted something stuck to his upper arm and immediately tried to rip it off. It stayed stuck where it was, and sent a sharp pain through his skin when he pulled on it. “WHAT IS THIS?? WHY WON’T IT— WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?!?”

“It’s a band-aid, you big baby!” Mabel hissed. “Now stop screaming, you’re gonna wake up the whole house!!”

Her words made him pause long enough to get a clear look at the thing on his arm. It actually was a band-aid, a plasticky little cyan band-aid with a star pattern. It had been clumsily plastered over the spot where that dog had almost gnawed his arm off yesterday, and it was soaked through with silver blood.

He was totally baffled for the first time in millenia. He hadn’t missed the feeling. “...WHAT’S GOING ON?”

“I’m asking the questions here.” The “dangerous” voice was back. “How are you alive? My Grunkle sacrificed his brain to kill you last summer! Why are you here?”

Bill’s eye narrowed. “YOU REALLY THINK I’D TELL YOU ANYTHING? YOU’RE ONE OF THE ONES WHO GOT ME INTO THIS MESS, AND NOW YOU’RE ASKING FOR FAVORS? YOU MIGHT BE CRAZIER THAN ME!”

Mabel snapped her fingers. “What mess? You said that earlier too, that we did something to you. I mean, I know we killed you and everything. But it looks like that problem solved itself, so… what else?”

Bill felt his face heating up with rage. She thought she could trick him?! Wheedle information out of him like some stooge?! Fat chance. He was damned if he was giving the Pines family anything they wanted from him.

“I’M NOT PLAYING THIS GAME, SHOOTING STAR.” He snarled out the nickname with all the venom he could spare. “LET ME OUT OF THIS ROOM. NOW.”

She flinched back at the shout, but held her ground. Her eyes narrowed as they bored into his, and her grip on the grappling hook tightened. “Make me,” she said.

Bill stared at her, bewildered. “WHAT?!”

“I saw you turn into a giant mutant pyramid and piledrive a house last year,” she snapped. “And that was just the part I could follow. You shouldn’t have any trouble getting past me. Unless something’s gone super weird with you.”

Bill’s hands clenched into fists. He knew this was a bad approach. He knew he should pivot and figure out how to talk his way out of this. But his head somehow felt even worse than before he’d passed out, and the part of his brain that handled planning was not taking his calls. He squeezed his eye shut and tried to think his way through the haze of pain. The kid was calling his bluff; there was no way he was winning a fight right now. But she was almost certainly bluffing too. If she wanted to kill him, she’d had a million opportunities up until now. And instead, she’d slapped a band-aid on his arm. Maybe if he caught her off guard, she’d hold back enough that he could make an escape…

His eye shot open when he heard the door in front of him click shut. Mabel was holding a small backpack that she must have grabbed from out in the hall when he wasn’t looking. He clenched his fists even tighter. That was your exit back there, Billy! You missed it! Sailed right by ya!

“Listen,” Mabel said, rifling through the backpack. “I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me at first. But I’ve got some stuff in here that might change your mind.”

Bill took a wary step back. “LIKE WHAT?”

“Just some bargaining chips,” she said mysteriously, still digging through the bag. Just when Bill was starting to actually worry, she found what she was looking for and pulled it out with a flourish. A bag of cheddar-flavored potato chips. Literal bargaining chips.

He had to admit, that was a little funny.

“There’s other stuff too.” Mabel tilted the backpack to show more snacks packed inside it. “But, like… ‘bargaining apple’ doesn’t sound as good.”

Bill wanted to be completely indignant that the kid thought she could bribe him with treats, like a stray cat. But just the sight of something edible was making his organs churn so violently with hunger that his vision started swimming. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer without eating something. Trying to keep thinking through his body’s shrieking demands for food, he asked “WHAT BARGAIN ARE WE MAKING HERE, EXACTLY?”

Mabel stood up a little straighter, looking pleased to be making progress. “Answer one question– honestly– and you get one snack. I figured, you lost a lot of blood last night, you’d probably want to eat something. But I’m not just handing it over unless you help me too.”

Narrowing his eye, Bill weighed his options. He wanted to refuse to even entertain this. The thought of having to literally barter for scraps was humiliating. But another painful churn from his stomach reminded him that he couldn’t ignore this body’s needs forever. As long as he was stuck inside this flesh prison, he needed to keep it working. And it seemed like sometimes, that would mean putting dignity aside.

Besides, unlike the last deal he’d been forced to make, at least he knew what he was signing up for this time. The kid wanted answers. “Honest” answers. But how would she know if he was being honest or not? He already knew he was more than capable of tricking her. So all things considered, he didn’t have that much to lose.

He sighed. “ALRIGHT. DEAL.”

Mabel beamed excitedly for a second, then hastily replaced it with a stern expression. She held up the bag of bargaining chips. “How did you come back to life?”

“COULDN’T TELL YA. I JUST WOKE UP IN THE WOODS YESTERDAY.” That wasn’t technically a lie; at worst a lie by omission, which didn’t really count anyway. Sure, the Axolotl was the one who brought him back, but he didn’t know exactly how they’d done it. Resurrection had never been part of Bill’s power set. He knew that all too well.

Still, that answer didn’t seem to satisfy Mabel. “Okay, but how? Did you do some big magic ritual or something? Was it part of some big evil plan?”

“HEY!” Bill snapped. “ONE ANSWER, ONE SNACK. THAT WAS THE DEAL, YEAH?”

Mabel looked like she wanted to argue. She was holding all the power here; she could change the rules if she wanted to. But just as Bill was preparing for a long, tedious debate, she tossed the bag of chips at him. Startled, he fumbled and just barely caught it.

Watching her warily, he tore the bag open with a claw and tried a chip. It was light and salty, and before he knew it he was eating another, and then he must have blacked out, because next thing he knew the bag was shredded and empty, and Mabel was staring at him with no small degree of alarm.

He was still painfully hungry, and she seemed to notice, because she hastily grabbed an apple from the bag. Holding it out, she asked “What is your plan, now that you’re back?”

“DON’T HAVE ONE. OTHER THAN ‘STAY ALIVE’, I MEAN.” Again, technically true. He wanted his powers back, but he didn’t actually have a plan for that yet. And it was secondary to survival anyway.

Mabel looked skeptical. Still, after a scrutinizing look, she tossed him the apple. This time he caught it fairly easily, extending his arm a few extra inches to pluck it out of the air. He shoved it into his mouth/eye and crunched down, paying no mind to the uncomfortable resistance of the stem and core. Through his violent crunching, he heard Mabel say “You probably shouldn’t eat it whole–”

His eye shot open as a sudden coughing fit overtook him. Maybe the kid had been right; a chunk of apple core had snuck down his windpipe. Just as he managed to dislodge it, Mabel asked “Are you okay?”

“YES!” He pointed up at her brightly. “FOOD, PLEASE.”

Mabel gave him a shocked glare. She probably thought he’d done that on purpose, which was fine by him. With an angry sigh, she fished through the backpack and retrieved another bag, this time full of trail mix. As he was devouring it, she held out a bottle of water.

He shot her a suspicious look. “Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s water. That’s not a snack. Just take it.”

He wasn’t about to argue. He grabbed the bottle and guzzled it down. Once he was done, he looked up to see Mabel holding another apple and staring him dead in the eye. This time, the serious expression on her face was definitely not an act. She asked “Are you going to hurt my family?”

Bill froze for a second. Then he furrowed his brow. “WHY WOULD I DO THAT?”

Mabel crossed her arms and glared at him. “I dunno, that was just the vibe I got when you were screaming at me about how we all did this to you, while trying to shoot me with a finger gun?” She waved her own finger gun around to demonstrate. “I know how much you hate us, Bill. I’m not stupid.”

Bill mentally kicked himself. It was true, the kid wasn’t stupid… at least not stupid enough to fall for a lie that blatant. He sorted through his jumbled thoughts for a way to save face.

“OKAY, FINE,” he said. “IF I HAD THE CHANCE, A LITTLE PAYBACK WOULD BE NICE. BUT THERE’S NO WAY I’D RISK THAT NOW! YOU GUYS ALREADY KILLED ME ONCE, WHEN I HAD GODLIKE POWERS. I WOULDN’T STAND A CHANCE LIKE THIS.”

“So you don’t have powers anymore,” Mabel said thoughtfully, and Bill kicked himself again for showing his hand. “I mean, I figured as much. So when you came back to life– however that happened– you came back as a regular person? Er– regular triangle?”

“YEP. YOU GOT IT.” Bill held out his hand expectantly. “ALSO THAT WAS TWO QUESTIONS.”

Mabel rolled her eyes and tossed him the apple, followed by a package of fruit snacks. She watched as he devoured them, eating the apple more carefully this time. “I’m running low on snacks,” she divulged.

Bill polished off the last few fruit snacks. “BETTER MAKE ‘EM COUNT, THEN!”

Clutching a sleeve of crackers, Mabel scratched her chin thoughtfully. “So you’re not planning to kill us, and you don’t have some other big sinister plan.” Bill heard the deliberate period at the end of the sentence. “Then… what are you gonna do next? Not even a plan, just… the next step after you leave here.”

Bill sighed. This one didn’t require any bending of the truth. “LEAVE TOWN. FIND SOMEPLACE WHERE NO ONE RECOGNIZES ME, AND… START OVER, I GUESS.”

She frowned. “Leave town. Like, on foot.”

“I’LL HITCH. OR STEAL A CAR OR SOMETHING.”

“Without being seen by anyone in town. Who all remember last summer, by the way.”

He bristled. “FINE. I’LL GO THROUGH THE WOODS.”

“Where you almost died yesterday.”

“I’LL FIGURE IT OUT, ALRIGHT?!” he exploded. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! AND ARE YOU GONNA HAND THAT OVER, OR WHAT?!”

She held out the crackers. He snatched them away and started wolfing them down, chewing more violently than necessary.

“I’m just saying,” she said. “If you want to stay alive longer than a couple more days, you’ll need a better plan than that. Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve had to worry about taking care of your body, but bodies die from all kinds of things. Hunger, thirst, exhaustion, exposure, bears…”

“I KNOW THAT,” he snapped through a mouthful of crackers. “IT HASN’T BEEN THAT LONG.”

She reached into the bag again. “How long has it been exactly?”

He glared at her. Sure, he could make something up, but really, what was the point? He knew she could tell it had been a long time.

“A TRILLION YEARS,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“A TRILLION YEARS!!”

“A TRILLION years?!?”

“YES,” he snapped. “AND THAT’S THREE QUESTIONS, KID.”

“Ugh!!” She turned the backpack upside down, dumping out a candy bar, a banana, and another bag of chips. “There. You’ve taken everything from me.”

Bill snatched them up. “GOOD! NOW WE’RE EVEN.”

She was quiet as he ate, except for a disgusted noise when he didn’t bother to peel the banana. As soon as he was done, he stood up. “WELL, YOU’RE OUT OF QUESTIONS, SO I GUESS WE’RE DONE HERE.”

“Wait, hold on.” She stood up too. “You’re really just leaving? You don’t even know where you’re going.”

She was out of collateral. He didn’t have to answer. But, again, there was no point playing coy when she already knew the answer anyway. “IF YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA, I’M LISTENING.”

She hesitated, twisting the hem of her sweater in her hands. “I mean… you could stay here…”

He must have looked as shocked and angry as he felt, because she held out her hands, beckoning him to wait. “We basically never use this room! You’ll have food and water whenever you need it, and it doesn’t have to be for long. Just until you have an actual plan, other than ‘walk away’.” Her eyes lit up with inspiration. “Oh– you could catch the bus to California in August! It stops right down the road!”

“OH WOW! CHARITY FROM MY MURDERERS! NO THANKS.” Too affronted to stay civil any longer, Bill dodged past Mabel and grabbed the doorknob. She grabbed his arm to stop him, and the instant she did, a jolt of panic shot through his body. The hot, clammy, stinging sensation of her hand latched onto his skin filled his brain with blinding terror, and he wrenched his arm away with all the strength he had, scrambling away until his back was flat against the wall. As Mabel watched, eyes wide with shocked confusion, he tried to brush the buzzing heat off his arm and will his heartbeat to slow back down to normal.

“Sorry,” Mabel said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare y–”

“I’M NOT,” he snapped in a harsh, strained voice. “I’M NOT. I JUST WASN’T… EXPECTING…” he trailed off into silence. A trillion years with no physical body. Only ever feeling touch with the muffling layers of possession and alternate dimensions in the way. It sounded so stupid, but he’d forgotten what it actually felt like. The real thing. It was way too much.

After a second, Mabel piped up again. “I was just trying to say… you shouldn’t leave through the house. It’s still super early, but the sun’s coming up, and I’ve never seen Grunkle Ford sleep through the sunrise. He’ll lose it if he sees you.”

Bill blinked. “WAIT, HE DOESN’T KNOW I’M HERE?”

She winced. He could see her mentally kicking herself; about time she had a turn at that. “...No,” she admitted. “I snuck you in here. I figured, if the others saw you, they’d just wanna stomp your eyeball in and ask questions later.”

He probably would have realized it sooner, if he’d been thinking ahead. Ford and his brother would never let one of the kids talk to him alone. If they knew he was here, he’d have been dead hours ago.

He stared at Mabel. “AND YOU… DIDN’T WANT THAT?”

She chewed her lip anxiously. After a little hesitation, she shook her head.

“WHY?” He should have asked this a long time ago. “WHY’D YOU BRING ME HERE? WHY… ANY OF THIS?” He shot a look at the bandage on his arm and the snack wrappers scattered across the floor.

She shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I guess yesterday… you were hurt, and I just…” she sighed. “I don’t know.”

How comforting. The only person in this whole town who didn’t seem to want him dead, and she couldn’t even say why.

“WELL!” he said, trying to sound bright and casual. “THE SNACKS WERE NICE, AND CATCHING UP WAS… INTERESTING. BUT THE ANSWER TO YOUR OFFER’S STILL A RESOUNDING ‘NO’. SO I THINK WE’RE DONE HERE. I’LL JUST SEE MYSELF OUT.”

He turned to the one tiny window in this dungeon of a room. It was well out of reach. With a weary sigh, he turned to the wooden chest placed across the room and tried to push it towards the window.

It was heavy. Of course it was heavy. Why did he expect any different? He pressed all his negligible weight against the thing, muscles straining painfully. How had pain ever seemed funny? When he was about ready to give up, the chest suddenly slid out from under him and thunked against the wall below the window. As he stumbled and righted himself, he looked up to see Mabel leaning against the chest, smiling awkwardly. She stepped up on it and offered him a hand to climb up to the window.

Scowling, he sidestepped her and used his last useful ability– stretchy arms– to reach the bars. Atop the chest, he could just barely reach to undo the lock, shove the window open, and pull himself up. Once he was out, he shot one last look back at Mabel, who was frowning up at him with conflicted concern.

“FOR THE RECORD,” he said, “I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE WITH OR WITHOUT YOUR HELP.”

Her frown deepened. It was his least convincing lie yet, and they both knew it. But to her credit, she didn’t say anything.

He pulled the window shut behind him.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Hello! For the dialogue, number 18 AzrielxReader.

Thank you!

"Stay With Me."

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You get Hurt on a mission with Azriel.

Warnings: slight mentions of torture

A/N: hey!! Thanks for requesting! Hope you like this!!💕😭

Dialogue Prompts Masterlist Part 2

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

"I, am, tired!" You struggle saying each word, considering you are walking through a storm in forest.

You are on a mission with Azriel, of all people. You have no idea what Rhysand was doing pairing you both together. He knows how the two of you don't get along but he still, put you with each other.

You are currently walking through a woods along Night Court border. You were supposed to meet Eris for some information Rhysand needed against Barron but the basturd didn't show up, instead a storm did. Out of nowhere, heavy drops of rain started falling, covering the forest with dark clouds and muddy road.

You can't fly due to the water and can't winnow because you can't see anything, so, the two of you decided, walking it is. Having no idea where you are going, you have been walking for hours, surely Rhysand would be suspicious by now.

"You complaint too much." You can practically hear Azriel's eye roll following his remark. He might seem quite and kind to other people, which he is, to other people. Not to you though, his entire personality changes when it comes to you. All the kind and quite persona gets replaced with a snarky and bored one. Arguing with you seems to be his life purpose.

You don't understand why. He has always been that way with you. You were so good from the moment you met. You and Rhysand met first, having both being victims of Amarantha, in different ways. You know the horrors Rhysand had to suffer to survive, you didn't nearly spent the same enduring as him but Amarantha kept you with her for her torturing tasks, scaring you body with her anger.

You and him escaped her together and he brought you back to Velaris with him, knowing you haven't got any family left. He introduced you to his inner circle and kept you in as one of Azriel's spies. You were so excited to finally meet the infamous Spymaster, what you didn't expect was the cold expression he had in his eyes after meeting you.

You groan and take the next step heavier in anger, hoping to stomp your foot but your breath leaves you body when you foot gets sucked in a giant hole, being covered with dried sticks and mud. You scream as you fall, the hole bigger than you thought it be.

When you finally fall on the ground with a thug, you stay still for a second and then the pain hits. Quickly starting from your abdomen and spreading to the rest of your body. You feel snips of pain all over your body, having being covered with small cuts by the dried wood, but the main source of pain is into your stomach.

You try to get up but cry out in pain, again laying down. This time you only lift your head to see what causes such immense pain. You gasp when you see black matel, and small sharp teeth like points connected to a thick matel band.

A bear trap. Great. Seems like you are a bear now.

You can't even breath through the pain. It's that bad. The sharp points digging into your skin with more force every second, your blood now starting to pool beneath you. You close your eyes as you feel a wave of dizziness behind your eyes.

"Shit, Y/N!" Azriel's voice comes to you first before you feel his hands coming to your body. "This is going to hurt." Is the only warning you get before his hands dig into your stomach, pulling at the matel. You scream out as it finally get out of you, leaving huge gapping holes and straches that, now, also bleed.

You sob in pain as Azriel throws away the trap and covers your injury with his hand. You turn to look at the thing, large enough campared to half your body. You realize it would kill you if Az hadn't taken it out. Gods, where do people even find weapons so big.

You cry again when Az press on your wound and lefts your upper body to his. The rain pouring only making things worse and he spreads out his wings, as if reading your thoughts, hiding you from the rain and the world.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" Your voice coming out weaker then you imagined and Az sucks in a breath.

"Shut up. You aren't going to die." Sure, Rhysand will come for you both. And if he doesn't, Az will carry you all the way to Valeris himself if he'll have to. Letting you go is not an option.

"Who will you have to fight with after I'm gone? Hm?" You try to joke, laughing at yourself weakly but Azriel looks mad.

"You're alright. We're getting out of here, you're going to heal and we are going to keep fighting like we always do." The small quiver in his voice spoke more than he wanted to.

"I hope so." Your eyes closing now.

"No, no, no, no. Hey! Hey, look at me!" His hands jerk your face, desperately trying to keep your eyes open and to his. He groans out, thinking of a way to keep you awake and then freezes, saying the one thing that has you so shocked, you don't think of anything else.

"You're my mate."

His hand, that was to your wound clasp around yours, again putting it to the bleeding hole, now pressing with both of your hands, and he looks into your eyes, repeating his words trying to get you to see the truth in them. After a moment, your fingers slightly tighten around his and he almost cries in relief.

"What?" Your voice so weak, it brings tears in his eyes. "How?"

"I'm sorry. I never told you before. I was never strong enough to do so." Your slightly quickened breathing and eyes on his, he takes this as good signs and continues talking, hoping to keep you interested and shocked enough to stay awake until he finds a way to get out.

"From the moment I met you, I've known. You are my mate. The person I longed for all this time. I- I didn't tell you because I was ashamed. Ashamed to admit that you got paired with someone like myself. You happy personality was something I could never keep up to. I could never keep you happy." A tear falls down his eye but he ignores it and keeps talking, keeps your beautiful eyes on him. "I love you, Y/N. I always have. From moment- we first met. From the second I layed my eyes on you. I don't want you to be stuck with me, so I never told. I was a coward, darling. I am so sorry."

The name he called, doing something to you. Making you feel something you haven't felt before.

Your mate.

Azriel is your mate. He has known this, ever since he met you and didn't tell you, but you can't find it in yourself to be angry at him. In a way you understand him. Understand why he did what he did, you wouldn't have told him either, given how you thought of yourself, you wouldn't want to tie him to you forever too. Hel, you probably would have ran away, afraid of what having a mate would imply.

But now, you don't care about any of this. You have a mate. And you will show him just how much you want him. If this is, in fact, your last living moment, you will not waste it. You weakly lift your other hand, keeping one to his, and touch his face. The act taking so much enery, your fingers shaking against his cheek and he can clearly feel it, given that now more tears fall down his face.

"I am proud to call you my mate."

You weakly smile at him. His eyes now shut close and he hugs you to his body, the hand that is to yours, now cluching tighter and the other around your back, his face buried in your neck and he cries harder.

The last thing you hear before darkness sweeps you, is his voice begging you to stay as tears fill your face and neck.

"Please, stay with me."

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

[the-modern-typewriter]

https://www.tumblr.com/the-modern-typewriter/659807198763991040/helloo-i-love-your-writing-i-have-a-request?source=share this is one of the best snippets I've ever read on tumblr I am so in awe of your writing! I hope we get to see more of bone chilling scary villains from you because you write them so well!!

They wouldn't have known the villain was there, in the gloom, if not for their eyes. They shone like a cat's in the dark.

The protagonist swallowed. They took a step back, but the door had already shut behind them. No way out. They resisted the urge to turn around and bang on the thick, heavy metal. To scream. Beg. To say they were sorry, that they'd changed their mind, they'd do anything, anything else.

Just let me out, please.

But that would require looking away from those eyes. From the villain. And that seemed a stupid, dangerous thing to do.

"My my," the villain murmured. "I thought people had given up on surviving me."

The protagonist curled their hands into fists. "Just stay back."

The villain laughed.

The protagonist felt naked; entirely too aware of the fact that they couldn't see anything in the black, but the villain could see everything. They watched the eyes move as the villain shifted. Stood up. They were probably standing up, weren't they? The protagonist heard the gentle clink of chains. They flattened their spine against the door.

"I mean it!" The protagonist's voice came out too high, too thin. "Stay back, I'm warning you."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll - you'll regret it."

"Oh?"

The deal was a simple one. If they could survive one night, just one night, in the villain's cell with them than they could have their entire sentence revoked. A few people had apparently managed it, over the decades, but none of them would ever say how. None of them ever looked right about it.

"How will I regret it?" the villain asked softly. "What will you do to me?"

"I have a knife."

Everyone was allowed to bring one thing down with them. Just the one.

"That's so sweet," the villain said. "No one's ever thought of that before. You're so clever."

The protagonist tasted bile.

The villain moved forward in the dark. The protagonist couldn't hear their steps, just the clink of the chains, the crunch of something.

"If you kill me, you'll just have to be alone down here!" the protagonist tried. "You could at least have company for the night."

"But I thought you had a knife?" the villain asked, with yet more laughter in their voice. "Don't you want to use it?"

They didn't stop.

The protagonist was strongly beginning to suspect that no one who survived bought a knife. Maybe they brought other offerings; things to satisfy the ravenous hunger of the monster across the room. They held the knife out anyway, because it was all they had.

God. Why did they bring a knife? Why were they so stupid?

The villain paused in front of them. At least, the protagonist could feel some pressure of something against the tip of the knife. They could have stabbed forward, sliced perhaps. They couldn't quite move. It didn't seem possible for it to be that easy. It was surely a trap of some sort.

"I want to go home," the protagonist said. "I have a family. They need me. I can't - I have to get home. Please."

"Oh, well. In that case."

"Really?"

The villain laughed again. Something cold plucked the knife away. The protagonist heard it clatter somewhere in the dark. They flinched. They braced for the end. For the pathetic five minutes they had managed to survive.

"Tell me a story," the villain cooed. "And if it makes me feel free, for even a second, then freedom can be your prize."

"And if it doesn't...?"

The next morning, the door opened and the lights flooded on.

The villain sat chained to the wall on the other end of the cell. Their eyes were closed, placid. The floor was littered with bones picked clean, the walls an art gallery of blood, except for the spotless semi-circle around the villain's resting place. The knife sat on the floor in front of them.

The hero's jaw clenched.

The villain shrugged.

The lights flickered back off.

The hero stepped back.

The vault door locked.

The cycle repeated.

[crybaby-bkg]

touched for the very first time

Toji x f!reader Warnings: smut, hotel smut, virgin reader, reader is mentioned to be wearing dress/panties, nicknames are pretty thing and sweetheart, dry humping, finger sucking & choking, oral (f! receiving), hand jobs, reader gets embarrassed many times, one mention of baby trapping, full nelson to mating press positions, first time kisses, squirting, marking, a mention of blood being drawn from scratching, hair pulling (m! receiving) andddd I think that's it. lol please let me know if I missed anything and please enjoy!! Word count: 5.7k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!Also available on Ao3!

As you walk into the busy hotel, your heartbeat is a loud thud against yours ears. It’s deafening, makes your head feel too cloudy, your hands wringing together in anxiety, your upper lip sweaty. You could always back out of this, even though you wouldn’t get your money back, and you wonder if this was all some stupid idea in the first place. 

The moment you start to will yourself to turn around cause this was a terrible fuckin’ idea, you catch the eye of the man you wanted to meet. Your breath instantly catches in your chest, your eyes widening, and even from a distance, the man seems able to catch your exasperated expression at just the sight of him. He smirks, and you can already see the glint in his eye that promises nothing but ruin for you. 

“You weren’t thinking about leaving, were you?” The man asks you the moment he strides up to you, his head tilted to the side, his eyes darkened by his bangs. He’s much bigger in person, his frame damn near making him an impenetrable wall that many people swerve out of the way to avoid bumping into. He’s clad in a black shirt and sweatpants, worn sneakers adorning his feet, and he doesn’t really seem to mind the way you take him in so unabashedly. If anything, the man seems to grow even bigger, the scar crossing his lips seemingly pulling even tighter. 

“No?” Your answer is as unsure as you are, your hands fiddling in front of you in worry. The man, whose name you remember from your friend as Toji, only smiles wider at you, sniffs the air in front of him, like a shark smelling blood in the water. 

“Ya sure about that?” He asks you, smile lessening as the seconds tick on, your eyes still a little fleeting when they linger on the outline of his pecs a few beats too long. “Look, if you don’t wanna do this, I’m not gonna pressure you. I am keeping your deposit, though.”

“No,” that makes you speak up quickly, taking a step forward into his proximity, your shoes bumping his. “I wanna get this over with already.” 

Toji only cocks an eyebrow at you in question, but doesn’t much verbalize it beyond a grunt before he’s turning on his heel. You scurry after him, his long legs making each step feel like you’re jumping over cliffs, his hands shoved in his pockets coolly. You stop short behind him when he makes his way to the front desk, rapping on it twice to get the attention of the older lady who smiles coyly when she sees him. 

You can’t make out too much of their conversation from the busyness of the hotel lobby, but you do catch her flirty smile, her glance of disdain in your direction, a push of her tits in his direction, before she’s sliding over a keycard to his waiting hands. When he turns, Toji’s demeanor seems as cool as ever, as if this is something he cons from the receptionist just about everyday—which, in reality, you’re pretty sure he actually does. 

But you don’t question Toji. Just scurry after him through the lobby with your chin tucked in your chest, your hands wrangling each other, eyes wide and unsure when you’re stuck in a crowded elevator together. 

Can they tell? The strangers on the elevator with you? The people in the lobby? The receptionist, the janitors? Can they tell what you’re about to do with a man that you’re sure is most likely ten plus years your senior? All for the sake of saying I’m in my mid-twenties and I finally lost my virginity! 

Before you know it, Toji has led you to the room you’ve paid the night for, although you don’t plan on staying past when the deed is done. He opens the door for you, eyes taking you in the entire time, some predator ready to pounce on the prey that’s too scared to look their consumption in the eye. (Will he consume you so? Will you like it? Will it be as good as the smut you read online? Better?) 

“So?” Toji suddenly says after he’s closed the door behind you, toeing his shoes off as you belatedly do the same. “Any conditions I should know about that we haven’t already discussed?” 

Oh, fuck. You forgot about those conditions you two had talked about when you reached out to him. You had heard…raving reviews about the man, and after a frustratingly lonely night, did you finally reached out to your friend for Toji’s information. You agreed on a time and place, paid your deposit, when he asked you if there were things you wanted to try with him. Sex, was the only thing you had said, something he had laughed at behind the screen of his phone. 

Obviously that. Kinks? Fetishes? Shit you wanted to try but was too afraid your boyfriend would think was weird or gross? 

You didn’t think it was necessary to tell him that you had never had a boyfriend before, but you list a few things you know you’ve liked from reading smut online. Easy things, things you were sure wouldn’t be entirely too much for your first time. He had only sent a thumbs up, and that was the last you heard from the man until today. 

“I’m a virgin.” You blurt out when he snaps his fingers in front of your face once, his eyebrow cocking in confusion. It bleeds into one of understanding when your words sink into him, a knowing look crossing his face as he shoves his hands in his pockets, head tilted to take all of you in. He doesn’t say anything for a long while, and that only makes the pit in your stomach grow, nerves eating away at you as you twist your fingers together again. You open your mouth to call the whole thing off, tell him to keep your money, when he speaks first. 

“Virgins are extra.” Toji states plainly, eyes traveling your form, the long, flowing yellow dress you wear, the frilly little ankle socks, your jean jacket, your rounded eyes that get even bigger in confusion. He can’t help but snort a little under his breath, which stirs you into action, as you reach into your little shoulder bag, plucking a few bills from your wallet with shaking hands. 

You feel…dirty, scandalous, to be trading off your virginity for money to a complete stranger just because your friend said sex with him was life changing. But you hand him the money either way, with clammy palms and fingers that linger a little too long against his rough palm. 

Toji thumbs through the money, notes that you gave him a bit more than what he usually charges for virgins, but he’s not gonna tell you about it. Instead, he pockets the money, burly arms crossed over his chest as he looks down his nose at you. You’re akin to a bunny, almost, all timid and shy and pretty. He could just eat you up—but only if you’d let him. 

“Ya sure about this whole thing?” He asks you once more. “‘Cause I’m not doing shit that ain’t consensual, unless its that whole consent-non-consent shit, but I doubt that, coming from a first timer.” He sizes you up as if he can tell what’s running through your mind, but you try to put on a determined face that only makes his cock twitch in its confinements. Cute. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” You say determinedly, chin suddenly tilted high, even though your balled up fists shake with slight nerves still. “I’m in my twenties, and still haven’t slept with anyone yet. I just want to know what it feels like already, so I won’t feel like I’m missing out anymore.” At the end, you start to lose your steam, as other revelations come to the forefront of your mind. Your chin tucks ever so slightly, the eye contact you worked so hard to keep with Toji slowly withering into nothing, your gaze on your socked toes sinking into the carpet beneath you. 

“I’ve also heard…great reviews about you.” You confess a little quieter. You damn near jump out of your skin when Toji barks out a laugh, look up to find his head thrown back, an arm slung over his belly in mirth. It makes your own nerves calm a little, as you crack the smallest smile, shaking your head at yourself at just how ridiculous you sounded. 

When his laughter dies down, he takes a step to you, suddenly tucking his middle finger under your chin to bring your gaze to his. He’s smirking, eyes shining with mischief, his breath warm where it fans your face. Is it weird that you’re throbbing between your legs already?

“You’ve at least kissed someone before, right?” Toji asks, his voice teasing and playful, but it turns into one of shock when you confess, 

“No, I haven’t, actually.” You can see the gears turning in his mind, the genuine surprise that slowly melts into something you think you should be scared of. His light touch under your chin has full on gripped you now, his thick and rough fingers curling around your jaw, bringing you a step forward until your front presses snug against his own. You have to brace your hands on the swell of his pecs, and feel yourself swallowing down a moan at the firmness of them. Toji catches that look in your eye, and only smiles wider. 

“I’ve snagged myself an all around virgin, huh?” He asks, rhetorical, leaning down until his mouth hovers over yours cruelly. “How cute. You’re gonna be fun to break.” 

When Toji presses his lips to your own, you expect the kiss to be rough, to be all teeth and snarl and bite. But he’s everything you least expected—his kiss comes slow and gentle, a sweet press of his lips against your own to get you acclimated to the feeling of it. He presses one kiss, another, tilts your head to the other side. His kisses get firmer as the seconds go on, your hands curled into the front of his shirt, desperate to hold on, afraid you may float away if you let go. 

When he thinks you’ve gotten the hang of it finally, does his tongue come out to play. He steadies you when the pink muscle slides against the seam of your lips, feels how you sway on your feet from the contact. He can’t help the little laugh he lets out at your innocence, holding you tight around the waist, pulling you in even further, that you’re forced to wrap your arms around the thickness of his neck. 

“Let me in, sweetheart,” he encourages you, his warm breath fanning your cheeks as he nips at them gently. You shudder all over, lids entirely too heavy as you bring him in to your lips once more, mouth slightly agape as you welcome his tongue to taste yours. 

It slides against your bottom lip first, as if asking for entry, even though you’d give him access to every hole in your body at the moment. When his tongue touches yours, you can’t help the soft keening that emits from the back of your throat. Its a different kind of sensation, one you weren’t sure you’d like too much. But at this moment, nothing has ever felt more right. 

His tongue glides against yours the same time he rests his hand on your lower back, pushing you closer to him so that his knee is slotted between your own. You let out a gasp in surprise, the thin material of your dress and panties letting you feel every corded muscle of his thigh as he encourages you to hump against him. 

“Just like that, pretty thing,” Toji encourages you. You can almost hear the smile in his voice, feel it even better against your panting mouth when he dips his tongue to run across your teeth. He’s all consuming; his hand pushing your hips forward and back again, your clit catching on your panties, how quickly you’ve soaked the material, his tongue scraping against your molars, his other hand holding you still by the jaw to let him guide you. He could direct you straight to your own perish, and you’d go willingly, at this point. 

You whimper out his name pathetically, clinging to his shoulders, mouth agape, spit drooling from the corners as you let him do whatever he pleases with his tongue to you. He pulls back with a little huff of a laugh, embarrassing you. It makes you hide your face in his shirt, despite the fact that you still rock your hips against his thigh to chase that pleasure you’ve never felt with someone else before. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Toji husks in your ear, places both of his big and rough palms on the swell of your ass, encouraging you to grind against him even harder. Your legs feel too weak to keep standing, but you cling to him either way, gasping out a little choked moan as the pressure in your lower abdomen starts to build entirely too quickly. 

“Ready to move on to the next item on your bucket list?” He teases you, nipping at the shell of your ear. You nod your head quickly, burying your face even further into his chest when he doesn’t need to guide you anymore to fuck his thigh, your hips bringing you forward and back until the motion starts to border on erratic. 

“What’s next, then? Tell me,” Toji tells you, his voice dropping so low, feels like you’re the only one in the whole world right now. You squeeze your eyes shut, cling to him even tighter, but he’s pulling you away with a little tut. You pout up to him, eyes teary from the almost overwhelming pleasure that floods you in such a short amount of time. 

“I want,” you swallow, glancing away, embarrassed, even though you can’t stop humping at his leg like some dog in heat. “I wanna try, um,”

“C’mon, you can do it. Tell me what’s next, pretty thing; want me to lick your pussy? Swallow my cock? Finger you and stretch out that tight little hole?” His words are damn near dipped in pure sin, sex itself, dripping with such lust that you find yourself hitting your climax before you’ve even registered that you were close. Your eyes clench shut, your nails digging into the muscles of his shoulder through his shirt, mouth dropping into a little circle as your hips jerk while you ride out your orgasm on his thigh. 

When you come down, Toji peppers kisses up and down the sides of your face, pecking you sweetly, licking at the little beads of sweat that dribble down your temples. He nibbles the corner of your mouth, his smile wide and devilish as he hums, still expecting some kind of answer from you. 

“I want you to eat me out,” you whisper when you finally come down from your high, chest still tight from how much you held your breath at the peak of it. Toji pats your ass twice with a hum, pulling away from you as he pads over to the bed that sits in the middle of the room. 

You feel naked suddenly, vulnerable and alone as you stand there, wondering what you should do next. Should you take your dress off now? Socks too? Or should you sit on the bed and do it? Or wait for him to take your clothes off for you?

“Get outta yer head, and come lay down already.” Toji tells you, no bite in his tone but it spurs you into action either way. You scurry over to the bed, slipping out of your jacket on the way there, but you hesitate when it comes to your dress. 

He doesn’t seem to mind though; just guides you lay down against the pillows, snatches one that you don’t need to place it under your hips, pulls you down a little so that he can kneel on the floor while you stay on the bed. 

“Ready?” He asks you when you just lay there, stiff and unsure of what to do next, your hands curled into the blankets beneath you. You only nod at him like a deer in headlights before you lay your head back against the pillows, gaze focused on the ceiling above. Toji huffs another little laugh at your embarrassment, but doesn’t comment on it. 

Just flips the skirt of your dress up until it lays against your belly, which he kisses too, making you gasp a little in surprise. He noses his way down your panty line until he’s met with the wet patch on the front of your plain lilac colored panties, the spot dark and clinging to your lips. Its a sight that makes him salivate, and he can’t keep himself from sucking your slick straight from the fabric. 

Your hips buck on instinct, a moan caught in your throat as your knee jerks ever so slightly. Toji catches it before you can knee him in the face, placing both of your legs over his shoulder with practiced ease. 

“Easy there, pretty. Don’t need a black eye from another client.” He tells you, voice dull and husky, but you can’t help the little snicker that floats out of you. It makes Toji smile himself, glad that you’re not as tense in the moment, and proceeds to kiss you through your panties. 

You’re so sensitive—just him breathing a little heavy on you makes your clit twitch almost visibly through the soaked cotton, your hole making the prettiest little noises with every throb. You’re so embarrassed, your arm slung over your eyes to cover them, but he loves every little reaction all the same. 

Finally, does he tug your panties down your legs, damn near lifting you in ease to get them off and thrown across the room. He gets back into place and takes you in with a whistle under his breath. 

“Damn, you really are a pretty lil thing, huh?” Toji whispers huskily, grinning at the way your hips twitch and your hole throbs at his compliment. You don’t reply much of anything besides a pathetic little whine, thighs dropping open a little more in invitation, one he takes without further preamble. 

He lays the flat of his tongue on your dripping hole, drags it up until he’s at your clit. He swirls the pink muscle around the swollen little thing, sucking it into his mouth with a hum that makes you cry out an expletive. He likes the sound from your lips, does it again and again until you’ve wrangled your legs from his grip, your knees pressed into your chest. He licks at you and licks at you until you’re quite literally dripping in both saliva and your own slick, creating a little puddle beneath your ass. 

He ducks his head down for a bite of your rounded flesh, chuckling at your surprised squeak. He slaps your ass once before he’s back at your clit, kissing it the same way he kissed you earlier, but this time so, so much dirtier. Messier, with more spit and tongue and ever so slight nips of his teeth where you’re most sensitive. 

Toji holds the backs of your thighs down, pressing your knees even further into your chest, knocking the wind from your lungs. Your cute little frilly socks hanging in the air, toes twisting and curling with every suck of your clit into his warm, waiting mouth. He thinks his cock is about to burst in his sweats at the sight, the smell, at the taste of you. 

“What a sweet little thing you are,” he moans into you, having to fix his boner from where it tents his pants, but he doesn’t stray too far from your pussy. Lashes his tongue wherever you’re wettest, kisses you and kisses you until your hips buck and force him to kiss even deeper. He’s not surprised when you’re bursting over his tongue in only seconds, a high keening cry emitting from the back of your throat as you finally uncover your eyes to pull at his hair. It stings, your little claws digging into his scalp, but he revels in the burn, either way. 

You try pulling him away, speaking gibberish, but he hasn’t gotten his fill yet. He doesn’t much act like this when it comes to clients, but something about you—your noises, your taste, your hole clenching down on his tongue with every shaky gasp of stop—that makes him feel addicted. 

He pulls away only when you start to sob, despite the fact that you keep fucking your hips against his face, unable to control yourself. Toji pulls back with a deep inhale, still tasting you on his upper lip as he licks it, desperate to savory every drop from you. You sit up on your elbows, your hair a little disheveled, your chest heaving, eyes distant as you try to take him in. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, still trying to catch your breath. 

“I wanna touch your cock now,” you tell him, feel so crude with such a request, but Toji only grins at you. 

“With your hands or your mouth?” He asks a little breathless, his cock kicking at the thought of finally being touched by you. 

“My hands.” You answer him a little unsurely, eyes downcast before glancing up, face burning. “For now,” 

Toji climbs on top of you at that, little half smirk adorning his lips as he pulls his shirt from over his head. You follow suit with your dress, wiggling underneath him as you try to unclip your bra from the awkward angle, too. But Toji helps you, leaning down to undo it from underneath you, nipping at your neck during his proximity to you. When he pulls it off from your shoulders, he catches one of your nipples in his mouth, pawing at the other one greedily. 

It’s a different sensation, but something that makes you gasp in pleasure, holding his head close to you when he bites and pulls at the sensitive skin. Too quickly though, does he pull away to push his sweats to his knees, revealing the fact that he’s gone without underwear, which really doesn’t surprise you as much as you would think. 

But what does surprise you, is how pretty his cock is. Both thick and long with a slight curve to the left, his tip the softest shade of brown, precum dribbling from the head to connect with the dip of your bellybutton. Blue veins fork up and down the shaft of it, his pubes trimmed but thick and dark at the base, his balls low and round and so full, that you want him to just—

“Gimme your hand,” Toji’s husky voices snaps you out of your daydreaming, spurs you into action as you limply hold your hand up. He takes it in his own rough, warm grip, spits into your palm, before wrapping it around himself. 

His cock is warm, the skin oddly soft with a firmness to it that you hadn’t much expected. You stroke him slowly, his own hand dwarfing yours, but he lets you take control for the time being. You squeeze the tip when you get to it, watching another bead of precum bleed from it prettily, your mouth watering at the sight. 

“Is your mouth feeling empty, pretty thing?” Toji grins at you, pushing you down by your chest to lay flat on the pillows again, one hand cupping your tits, the other peeling your mouth open. You let him, tongue flat and pliant as he pushes two fingers into your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation, trying to stay aware enough to keep stroking his cock, thumb the precum, spread it down, twist your wrist. 

You moan as Toji explores your mouth, pads of his fingers tracing every piece of your wet cavern—your gums, the roof, your molars—before he finds the back of your throat. You gag on his digits, grip tightening on his cock from the surprise of it, making him groan from above you. He looks so pretty hovering over you like this; the spackles of his chest hair dripping with sweat, his mouth slightly agape, his fringe covering his eyes, his stomach toned, his cock dripping for you so prettily. 

Toji fucks your mouth with his two fingers until they’re soaked enough, until your tears have dribbled from the corner of your eyes onto the pillows beneath you. He pulls them out with a dribble still connecting to your tongue, and you chase the feeling of his rough fingers pressing against your uvula. But he doesn’t make you wait long, as you find those same wet, now cooled digits pressing against your achingly empty hole. 

They go in with only a little resistance, makes you give pause as you gasp. Toji encourages you to keep going, keep stroking his cock like that, keep making those pretty noises and even prettier faces for him. He scissors his fingers inside of you when you start to relax, stretching you out for the thickness that lies between his legs, tilting your head back with his free hand to spit into your waiting mouth. 

He chases it with his tongue, his hips twitching when you pick up the pace while jerking him off, angling it down to where his fingers bully you open, a wordless signal to what you want now. And who is Toji if not one to always satisfy his customers? 

He pulls his fingers from your hole, licking them clean before swatting the wet digits on your nipples, grinning at the squeaky little hiccup you let out. You get the signal to release his cock, sitting up a little as he reaches into the table beside the bed, pulling out an extra large condom. You swallow at the thought of whats to come, nerves suddenly taking over you once more. 

“What position?” Toji grunts as he rolls the condom down his cock. You were so entranced watching his hand work, you hadn’t realized what he asked you. 

“Huh?” You ask, eyes guiltily jumping up to his gaze, one that you find to be extremely amused. He shakes his head at you, sitting back on his heels, cock hard and standing at attention, distracting. 

“I asked what position did you want me to put you in? Missionary, doggy, butter churner, cowgirl—”

“A full nelson.” You blurt out, eyes suddenly wide and unseeing as you can only imagine how you’ll look bent into position like that by Toji, who’s all muscle and brawn. He looks slightly surprised at your outburst, but grins wide and feral at you, promising a night of ruin if that’s what you want your first ever position to be. 

“You got it, sweetheart.” Toji doesn’t give you much time to think about your decision before he’s manhandling you into position with as much gentleness that he can muster. You two switch positions as he seats you in his lap, leaned all the way back on the bed, his body hot and sweaty against your back. You can’t fight the urge to look over your shoulder and consume him in a kiss, the first one you’ve initiated since you came into the room. 

Toji moans against you, hooking your knees under his arms, pulling away with a little hesitance to get you into proper position. He clasps his hands behind your head, forcing your head to tilt down ever so slightly so you can watch the bob and twitch of his cock as it lays against the length of your belly, nearing your navel. The thought makes you swallow thickly. 

“Sure you’re ready for this, pretty thing?” Toji husks in your ear, nipping at it when you only nod your head. “I need you to use your words.”

“Yes, I’m ready to be fucked, Toji,” you moan to him, arms hanging in the air from where he pulls you taut, both hands already holding onto his hair. Toji laughs at your formality, letting you go for just a second to angle his cock at your hole, before he puts you back into position. He looks over your head as he grinds his hips forward, his leaking tip pushing past the tight barrier of your hole. 

You let out a little cry at the feeling; foreign and different, but not all bad. Its a tight fit, and how tense you are doesn’t help, but Toji presses a little kiss to the top of your head before he starts feeding you his length, inch by inch. He doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out, your eyes clenched shut from the mixture of pleasure and pain, but you force them open to see your pubes pressed firmly against his own. 

“Gods, this is so fucking hot.” You moan under your breath, clenching down tight around him when he gives you a little experimental thrust, making you rock against him. Toji bites at your earlobe with a low growl, words useless as he starts to do what he’s known best for—giving you an earth shattering orgasm that you’ll never get again from anyone else. 

He starts off with an almost brutal pace, his hips clapping against your own as he folds his hands against your nape, forcing you to watch how he ruthlessly fucks your hole open. It squelches with every thrust, loud and messy and embarrassing, but you’ve grown past the feeling of humiliation at this point. 

Now, instead, you beg for him—to ruin you, fuck you just like that, make you feel good, harder, deeper, just like fucking that. You spew so much filth to him he wonders where that nervous little virgin thing went, when you were replaced by some cock hungry incubus directing him how to angle his hips in order to touch your sweet spot. But he abides by your every request, grinning wide like a madman, forcing you to watch every inch of his fat cock split you open. 

After a while though, Toji doesn’t really find the position working for him. Quickly, he lets you go, rolls you from on top of him before he’s placing you on your back on the bed once more. He moves so fast, your head spins, the emptiness of your cunt suddenly making you whimper, as you reach for him in confusion. 

“Sorry, doll, I know ya wanted to lose it in a full nelson, but a mating press is just so much better.” He grins to you, throwing your legs up to your chest once more before he lays the entirety of his weight on top of you. The stretch of it all burns, and you can already feel the pain you’ll have in your legs for the next few days, but gods, it’ll all be so worth it. Every sting of your muscles a reminder of Toji, of his heavy cock carving its way inside of you, of every nip of his teeth, every pinch of his fingers against your clit—all of it. 

“Just make me cum already,” you whine to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, bringing him to you so that you can lick and bite at his neck. He had a ‘no marking’ rule, but he lets the sweet little virginal you do whatever you so pleased, as long as you let him fuck you into this bed within the next few seconds. 

Toji waits no time to slip his cock back inside of you, his hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, your ass, as he throws his weight into every thrust. In this position, he can reach down and touch your clit, his fingers thick and fast with every strum to your swollen bud. He nudges you away from his neck so that he can claim your mouth for his own, his tongue bullying yours, swallowing your gasps and cries and hiccups. 

You sound so sweet, it makes his balls tighten, makes him want to empty his entire load into you, knock you up on just the first try. He curses the condom that bars him from doing such depravities, and takes it out on your poor hole with every weighty thrust inside of you. 

You murmur something against his mouth, your breathing picking up as the seconds go by. You try to push him off of you, suddenly thrashing against the bed as the pleasure starts to overcome you. When he pulls back, your eyes are panicked but still so low and hazy, trying to regain focus but struggling at how he keeps swiping at your fat clit. 

“Gonna pee,” you cry to him, lip jutting out in embarrassment again. But Toji only laughs at you cruelly, throwing his head back and all before he swoops down to capture your lips once more. 

“Who woulda known a virgin could be a squirter?” Toji teases you, a look of realization passing over your face for only a brief second before it dissolves into one of pure ecstasy. Your hips buck almost wildly as you squirt on Toji’s cock, the wetness soaking his pubes and lower stomach and the sheets beneath you. You cry out almost hoarsely, eyes leaking with tears as you throw your head back, clawing at anything you can reach. Toji hisses when you draw up a bit of blood, but loves it all the same, unrelenting on your clit and soaked little hole until he’s reached his own climax. 

He cums with a low growl under his throat, thrusts sporadic and short and tight inside of you, eyes clenched shut as he grits his teeth. You’re still whining and whimpering beneath him, clawing at him and pulling him down until he kisses you, sweet and assuring. 

Finally, he collapses on the bed beside you, tugging the condom off with a sigh and tying it off as he drops it on the floor. You try to catch your breath beside him, as you stare up at the ceiling wondering if this all really just happened. 

“So,” Toji starts, mirroring your position, although he looks at you from the corner of his eye every odd second or so. “Wanna try anal next time?” 

And there goes that embarrassment again. 

thank you all so much for reading! kind comments/likes/reblogs are all so appreciated <3

[gemstone-roses]

Hello lovely! If you’re taking requests, would you be able to please write something smutty about Hannibal x reader sort of like enemies to lovers maybe where they don’t get a long and she’s a bit weary of him but one day they end up having really rough sex??? Lots of dirty talk and choking pls xx

Woo okay, let's go!

This took me forever so I hope you like it, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated🥺🥺

a:n- minors be gone 18+ only!. Dirty talk, female reader, choking,smut, rough sex. So. Much. Smut. I got a bit carried away oops, pussy eating, praise kink, filthy language, unprotected sex, mentions of choking on a dick, choking, 18+

Ooh there's a bit of a build up too this time! It's a bit long oops.

This work is intended for adults only, meaning those who are 18 and over. remember you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Hannibal finds it amusing, the way you roll your eyes whenever he opens his mouth. He might well have a good point but it doesent stop you from making your annoyance known. You thought hannibal was just far too cocky and far too sure of himself.

And every time hannibal sees it, a sly smirk appears on his face.

You loathed working with him, and your boss seemed to be oblivious to this since he always made you go with hannibal on a case.

"Im driving" you huff, not even looking at him as you reach for the drivers side handle

"It's my car" hannibal says simply, leaning on the door,causing it to shut.

You gape at him, hannibal stands there leaning against the car door, lazily, a smile dancing across his face.

Hannibal raises his eyebrows at you, waiting.

"You are insufferable do you know that!" You state

Hannibal just smiles wider, sticking his tongue between his teeth watching you become angrier at him.

"Fine" you huff, launching the keys at him. Your pouting, breath heaving slightly, and hannibal can't help the way it sends blood rushing to his cock.

Hannibal starts the car and the radio blares on. You lean over from the passenger seat to try and change it to something more your taste when hannibal places his hand firmly on your thigh.

"Leave it" he says lowly.

Your brain short circuits for a moment

"I am not, listening to this!" You manage to breathe out, hopefully hiding shakiness in your voice.

Hannibal ignores you, hoping it'll be the end of your utterly annoying complaining.

It's not.

"Go that way its quicker" you say

He doesn't.

"You should of gone the other way" you state, as you join a small line of traffic due to some road works.

The drive only takes 15 minutes but by the time you both get out of the car hannibal is rubbing his temples dramatically.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't realise I was so terrible to be around" you say.

Hannibal furrows his brows.

"I need you to come to my office when we get back" he says firmly

"Jesus christ how about some manners?" You roll your eyes

Hannibal turns around and walks towards you, you can't help your heart speed up at the sight, he's so very... attractive.

You blink away the thoughts right as he reaches you

"Y/N" he whispers, he's out of breath, putting both arms on either side of you he's trapped you against the car.

You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

Hannibal swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, taking note of the way your breathing increases.

He leaves you without saying another word.

The drive back is silent.

He gets out first when you arrive, not even waiting for you to get out the car.

By the time you reach his office, he's already sitting behind his desk.

You enter and shut the door behind you, hannibal looks up at you and his gaze is so intense it makes you want the floor to swallow you up.

"You- you wanted me to come up here" you say, hannibal gets up and clears the space between you in seconds.

And once again he places both arms either side of you, leaning against the door.

You notice he's rolled his sleeves up and it makes your brain short circuit for a moment.

" I did" he agrees, he steps forward, meaning you have to widen your legs slightly

"What are you-

"You have been testing my patience y/n" he whispers, hands rubbing up your waist gently.

"Yeah well your pretty insufferable yourself" you whisper.

Hannibal traces his hand up to your jaw, his big hand gripping your chin, a finger reaching out to caress your cheek

"Should I stop?" He whispers stilling his hand, a warmness in his gaze you haven't seen before.

You shake your head, lips parted slightly.

"Use your words" he whispers lowly.

"I don't want you to stop" you say

"Good girl" he praises and hannibal dosent miss the way your pupils widen at that.

Hannibal bites his lip slightly, oh he is going to enjoy this.

"You liked that didn't you?" He teases, dropping his hand from your chin to rest around your neck.

"Mm hmm" you mutter, slightly breathless.

Hannibal tightens his hand slightly, studying your reaction, he feels your pulse quicken under his hand, you shift slightly trying to ease the growing ache in your cunt.

He squeezes a little harder, causing you to let a moan you'd been holding in escape your lips.

Hannibals cock strains against his pants.

"Open your mouth for me darling" he says, swiping his thumb across your lip before pushing in two of his fingers.

You wrap your lips around his fingers and suck, hannibal closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, commiting to memory the sight in front of him.

"That's it darling" he smiles, his cock twitching every time you made a noise.

He pushes into you, his erection brushing up against your leg.

"Do you feel that y/n?"

You whimper

Hannibal removes his fingers from your mouth, reaching down, he guides your hand to his bulge.

You stroke your hand up and down a couple of times, taking notice of how thick he feels, hannibal let's out a low moan before quickly pushing your hand away and opening his hand to take yours, he guides your arm up above your head before crashing his lips to yours.

You can tell he's skillful by the way he kisses. One hand pinning yours above your head, the other grips your waist, you feel the books on the shelf behind you pressing into your back.

Hannibal pushes his tongue into your mouth, gripping your waist tighter you moan into the kiss.

"You sound delightful when you moan my love" he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Please" you whisper, needing more.

"What my love?, what do you want?" He knows exactly what you want, he just wants to hear you beg.

"Touch me" you say, closing your eyes as you sigh

"No no" he tuts, stroking your face

"Look at me"

You open your eyes and stare into his, his eyes blown wide with lust.

"Good girl" he says again and this time you don't bother trying to stifle the groan escaping from your throat.

" I bet you've soaked right through your panties haven't you, and I've hardly, even, touched, you" and with each word his hands inch lower into the waistband of your pants.

He runs a finger through your soaking folds, presses it to your clit.

It makes you squeal.

"Fuck hanni-

He smirkes at you, removing his fingers and instead gripping your wrist and leading you to his couch.

"Lie down" he states simply, and you do, bringing your lip between your teeth as hannibal loosens his tie.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he undresses, he can see its driving you mad as your chest heaves watching him.

"I've dreamt about how you'll taste on my tongue" his accent thick as he kneels between your legs.

Slowly, he removes your trousers, every touch of his fingers on your skin making your pussy throb.

When he's done he admires the view, a prominent wet patch visible in your panties.

You thrust your hips up slightly, indicating for him to hurry up and just touch you.

Hannibal leans down placing his hands on either side of your thighs, he brings his mouth to your clothed pussy, placing a far too soft kiss to your dripping, covered cunt.

You let out a frustrated moan, hannibal chuckles, finally hooking his fingers through your panties.

"May I?" He asks softly.

You nod

"Words, darling" he whispers

"Yes" you almost scream, and hannibal finally touches you where you needed him most.

His tongue teases the outside of your pussy before circling your clit slowly.

"Oh fuck" you moan, thrusting your hips into his mouth, hannibal removes one of his hands from your thigh, teasing your entrance with his finger.

His tongue presses flat against your clit as he pushes a finger inside you, he curls his finger, reaching that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Oh my god hanni" you breathe, hannibal removes his mouth from your folds as he inserts another finger.

"I can feel you tightening around my fingers darling, are you going to Cum?" He asks, but he knows the answer. You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm approach

"Open your eyes and look at me sweetheart" he speaks so softly it makes your cunt clench harder.

"That's it, cum for me y/n, i got you, let go for me" he urges as your pussy clenches round his fingers and you see stars.

Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath, but before you've had time to fully recover, hannibal places his cock at your dripping hole.

"Fuck me, please" you breathe, and that's all hannibal needs to hear before pushing his thick cock into your pussy.

"You feel incredible around my cock" he moans as he thrusts into you slowly.

Hannibal snakes his hand up your body, around your neck once more.

He applies a tiny bit of pressure as he fucks into you, your eyes roll back in pleasure and hannibal quickens his pace.

"Mm fuck" you moan

"Your squeezing my cock so good y/n" he praises as his hand continues squeezing your throat.

"Im gonna cum again hanni" you warn him, feeling a second orgasm approach.

"Cum with me" he groans, and it's the hottest thing you've ever heard, he's breathless, his skin glowing slightly from the activity.

"Hanni-" you choke out, his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust, he can feel your walls tightening around him.

"Cum for me y/n" he moans as his own orgasm washes over him, and with one last squeeze of his hand around your neck, you feel his cock tighten inside you, causing your brain to short circuit for a moment, you see stars once more as you cum on hannibals cock.

Hannibal pulls out slowly when you've caught your breath and recovered.

"That was-

"Incredible" he finishes for you.

"I should piss you off more often" you tease, he's lay next to you on the couch, his hands trailing softly over your stomach.

"Next time, maybe I'll choke on your cock" you add.

[frostbitebakery]

There’s a room where the Light won’t find you

Surrender AU

There are certain misconceptions when it comes to the… the them of them, Cody has to admit.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says instead of answering the same question the Commander has asked him twice now. The statement sits uncomfortable under his breastbone. He lost count how often he’s had to say it in his life.

“Are you that codependent,” the replica of his mouth snarks back. Curious, usually he and his counterparts have more patience than this.

The answer to that is a definite yes. Obi-Wan and he, they’re woven together. Only Obi-Wan’s lightsaber could cut them apart. He wonders where it is after they’ve taken it from its resting place above his heart.

“You’ll protect it,” Obi-Wan had asked, voice cracking and begging, closing Cody’s palms around the weapon’s hilt. It had been after Ghost had rescued them from that hellhole, after Obi-Wan’s hands had become too weak to wield his lightsaber despite the trials of reconstructive surgeries and physical therapy.

“Like your life,” Cody had sworn, lips finally not sore anymore from the ripped out stitches, the punishments from their captors that were so much more effective when delivered on Cody than Obi-Wan himself.

“I would like to have proof of life of my General,” he says again.

The Commander pushes out a sigh. “He’s… okay.”

Debatable. Cody isn’t there and no one knows - can know - how Obi-Wan’s hands spasm after a while, how his knee is acting up. How his grip on himself has been slipping, recently. The tight control even in the chaos had held steady for so long. Because even changed like this, Obi-Wan has been a master of his own self. Until they found these counterparts at least.

They’re so Light, hammers into Cody’s head.

“General Kenobi is asking him some questions himself,” the Commander states like he’s dangling bait.

Cody sincerely wishes him good luck with that. Getting an answer to “What do you want for breakfast” is a discovery of heretofore unknown wells of patience and the higher ground most days. Honey toast, by the way. “I would like to have proof of life of my General.”

Cody, they’re so Light. Obi-Wan is alone with a beacon to the Light he’s been desperately searching for in dozens of universes. He will do something well-thought-through and stupidly risky.

The Commander watches him for a few long moments, and Cody watches right back. He doesn’t smirk in triumph when the Commander activates the comm on his vambrace.

“General, could you put—,” Cody’s mouth twitches at the Commander’s faltering, the steeling for the reality of them, “the Sith on the comm?”

A moment later Obi-Wan is in the holo. Bound but whole, because the good guys don’t believe in torture. “Are you alright?” he asks, sickly golden eyes roving over what the holo displays of Cody.

Cody smiles, softening further once Obi-Wan echoes him with his own. “Yes. You?”

There’s misconceptions about them. Other people’s delusions of knowing them seem to think Obi-Wan and he can only be brutal, be cruel and harsh. Towards everyone else, and towards each other. Trapped in a bloody dance or something rivaling that kind of stupid. Those people don’t, thankfully, know the gentleness flowing through their touches. They kiss the other in reverence, soft and precious monster. What is between them, a connection forged in blood and pain, is anything but. It’s the one thing where they’re truly selfish. Holding each other close, burrowed into each other.

When Obi-Wan had asked him what he wants, the answer had been simple and sprouting thorns.

“You,” Cody had answered, sure and steadfast.

Obi-Wan had almost flinched, cane scraping over the floor. “Even as I am now?”

Always. At every second their lives had existed in orbit to each other. Every possible face Obi-Wan had worn, Cody had wanted him. But— “I think,” he had replied, stroking the paper-thin grey skin under a yellow eye, “this is the only version I’m allowed to have.”

“I miss you,” Obi-Wan says on the holo, and Cody goes cold.

“Obi-Wan, don’t—“

The connection winks out and he knows that it was Obi-Wan, that the Force suppression cuffs must have some fault he detected and exploited.

He whips his head up, urgency clocking in inside his chest and ticking. “Stun him,” he grits out, just to not yell, and startles the Commander. “Make him unconscious any way necessary.” He swallows. “But please don’t kill him.” I need him.

[hkruu]

Can you write a cold and distant yandere CEO with everyone but a total puppy to the reader?

“NOTICE ME.” — hkr

\\ yan ceo , loser behavior behind doors lmfao , implied favoritism , stalking , mention of murder and violence , slightly sadistic (?) , not my usual style of writing but I tried !! //

Keith was loosing his mind, do these worms that work under him not understand English? He swears that anyone could drop dead and he wouldn't care except for that worker (you) that he always seemed to favor out of anyone.

Of course everyone that worked on the company was aware.

"Seriously, how do you even gain the favor of boss? I swear he's a tough ice." One of of your co-workers had asked, you could only shrug in response. You of all people didn't know why Keith favored you among the best, I mean just why? There was Kayla who was employe of the month, Seth who was his assistance so what could you offer?

Keith who somehow gets jealous of everything and anything, you try to interact with the newbies? Huh, when did they become so busy with a lot of paper works? It's only their first day . . . If you want answers you might wanna turn to Seth.

Keith who really likes seeing you working hard, it reminds him the times where he watched you study hard for your degree during September 3 at 3:17 am — you're asking why he knows that? Well he's Keith, a normal guy trying to make business.

When Keith is alone, you might mistake him from another guy. Behind the doors of his office room, you're greeted with the warmth of his affection and a soft tone going “Good day".

Keith acts like a total puppy around you and he doesn't care, if you want to change your schedule it's already done in a swift! Want to be an air-conditioned room? Already done and dusted. You murmur wanting to be employee of the month? Oh would you look at that, you're employee of the month!

Of course, he'd always find a way where it's always related to him. He did want his name engraved into your head. . . .

Keith's love language is definitely act of service and gift giving. It's one of his strong suits since it came so naturally over him, he'd always remind you that he only shows this side to you because you are special to his eyes. Of course, some employee who overhead it will be the one who's flustered instead.

You two don't have a label in your point of view, but in Keith's? He practically thinks it's your 4th anniversary! He just loves you so much, why can't you just accept his love and let him trap you in his safe space? You won't have to work, do chores and even lift a finger. Keith would happily do anything you wanted, your needs mattered more than his.

Keith is the type to let the situation defuse by itself but when dealing with someone getting in his way to finally make you his — he's not above to resorting to violence. Even if Keith soft to you, he will never hesitate to resort to bad behavior just to make you stay by his side, like an actual loyal partner.

Murder wasn't a second choice, it was always the first choice. It didn't matter if it was a simple misunderstanding or a little trouble, there was no harm in ending lives when it came to you. Keith doesn't find blood dirty, he finds it fascinating. Blood keeps your heart pumping, blood runs through your veins at this very moment, it's something he likes feeling, touching.

That CEO is no psychopath, he calls it affection. Can't you see all the efforts he did just so that you could be in a higher position? Did you not acknowledge everything he did to you during highschool? During middle school? College? Do you not remember Keith? It was a shame, but this time he would make sure that you'd remember him for the rest of your life.

Even if you run away, quit your job, live in another country. Keith will always follow in any shape or form, he'll engrave the memories you spent together in your stupid brain, he'll carve his name into your skin and watch it bleed with your blood.

Keith is a normal guy. He's distant and cold, he keeps everything to himself, and he certainly doesn't like sharing.

\\ sorry if it's short ><!! I thought I was free the whole day but uhhh my schedule said no and sent me to a writing frenzy irl again!!//

\\ grrr request now cus I AM SKIBIDI //

\\ tysm for requesting anon, I hope I didn't go ooc 😞 (I did) //

[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.

[wandascosmic]

i remember it all too well

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: when you get a phone call in the middle of the night, you think nothing of it. what you didn't expect to hear was the worst news of your life.

word count: 1252

warnings: heavy angst, car accident, mention of dying

a/n: this is some of my older writing so the writing style is a little different

Y/N is jolted awake by the sudden sound of ringing beside her bed. She rolls over, eyes half closed, glancing at the caller ID.  

“Don’t know them.” She mumbles, rolling over, so her back is facing away from her bedside table, closing her eyes once more. There’s a beat of silence, until the phone starts ringing once more. She groans, grabbing her phone halfheartedly, her thumb right above the decline button. 

Suddenly, she jolts up, recognizing the number and her eyes go wide. Taking a deep breath, she accepts the call. 

“Nat?” She asks, putting the phone to her ear. 

“Y/N? Oh my god, Y/N, thank god you answered.” Natasha says with a frantic voice, sounding like she was out of breath. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Y/N asks, getting out of bed, her worry increasing by the minute. This is Nat, the rock-solid, always composed fiery redhead who sounds frazzled. Something is incredibly wrong, and Y/N’s anxiety is only increasing by the minute.

“Nothing-Wait, yes, something, I’m sorry, is this a bad time?” 

“No, no, it's okay. Deep breath, okay?” Y/N says. Natasha exhales. “Can you tell me what's going on?”

“Well it’s not exactly good news-” 

“Nat, it’s fine. What’s happening?” 

Your blood runs cold at the words that come next. 

“Y/N, Wanda’s been in a car accident.” 

Y/N’s heart drops, and she freezes in place, unable to speak. Is this real? “Y/N, are you still there?” 

“My Wanda?” 

“Yeah,” Natasha breathes out.

“Am I dreaming?” 

Natasha sighs. “No, you’re not.” 

“How'd it happen?” Y/N asks, on autopilot.

“I don’t know, it was really sudden. I just got a call 5 minutes ago from Shield Hospital, apparently, she lost control of the wheel, and she ended up sandwiched in between two cars both driving towards her. They say she’s lucky to still be alive.” Y/N nods, despite Natasha’s inability to see her face. “Y/N, do you think you could do me a favor?” 

“Yeah, anything,” Y/N nods, biting her nail to keep herself in the present, her worry increasing by the minute. 

“I’m on a business trip, so I’m out of the country at the moment. I swear I’ll be at the hospital by tomorrow morning, at the latest in the afternoon, but do you think you could go to the hospital and check on Wanda for me, please? Just to tell me how she is? And,” Nat pauses, “for yourself?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N says, opening her closet and finding the quickest outfit she can.

“I’ll get there in about 20 minutes and I’ll text you, how’s that?” Y/N says, still barely processing the events that have just happened.

“Perfect, thanks.” 

Y/N quickly says goodbye and hangs up the phone. The second she steps outside, memories of Wanda overwhelming her every thought. 

“Come on, detka! It’ll be fun, I’m finally old enough! I wanna see what my options are!” Wanda says, holding Y/N’s hand behind her, dragging them both towards the DMV. 

“Maximoff, you don’t even have your license,” Y/N says, laughing, her gaze trapped on the girl she’s lucky enough to call her girlfriend. 

“I know, but I’m a great driver. I beat you and Pietro in that racing game all the time.” 

“Mario Kart, Wanda. And that’s not the same,” Y/N says, stopping them and dropping a quick kiss on Wanda’s lips, smiling down at her. 

“Happy 16th, Wanda.” 

Wanda smiles back, bringing her girlfriend into a deep kiss. 

You wrap your arm around her, Wanda’s head instinctively going into the crook of your neck. 

“I want that one,” Wanda says, pointing at a red sports car, that seems like it was only meant for her to drive.

“Whatever you want, Maximoff,” You peck her lips, resting your head on top of hers. “But you still need your license.” 

Wanda pouts. “Pietro would’ve bought it for me by now.” 

“Pietro bought a 2000 dollar gaming console for himself because it was your neighbors’ parrot’s birthday.” 

“The old one was broken.” 

“Still not justified.”

“You’re no fun, detka,” Wanda pouts.

And even though you’ve tried, you could never say no to her. “I’ll buy it for you next Saturday,” you kiss her cheek, “It’s Sunday today, your appointment is on Wednesday, and you’re obviously passing, so you’ll only have to wait 2 days before you can be on the road.” 

Wanda’s eyes light up, her grin present on her face once more. 

“You can never say no to me,” she teases, aware of your remarkable leniency when it came to her. 

You blush. It was incredibly true, but that won’t stop you from trying to deny it. “That’s not true.” 

Wanda laughs, the angelic sound reaching your ears and putting you in a trance only she’s capable of creating. “It’s absolutely true, milaya.” 

If you could bottle Wanda’s laughter and get drunk on it every night, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

“Fine, it’s true. Maybe stop being cute then I’ll be healed from the Maximoff trance you’ve expertly put me in.” 

“Not a chance, detka,” Wanda kisses your cheek, then slips her hand into yours and interlocks both of your fingers. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” 

You hum. “Bummer, maybe then I wouldn’t have to restock all my sweaters every 3 months because a certain green-eyed witch keeps stealing them.” 

Wanda slaps your arm, causing you to laugh. 

“I’m kidding, baby.” You stop the both of you, pulling her into your arms. You bury your face into the crown of her head while she buries hers into the crook of your neck. You could stay here forever. 

“I love you so much.” You tell her, closing your eyes and breathing in her perfume. 

“I love you too,” Wanda answers, tightening her arms around you as much as she can. 

You don’t know how long the two of you stand there, when suddenly you’re struck by the sight of Wanda in your mind, bedridden, covered in stitches, and dying. Because of a car accident. That could never happen. You wouldn’t allow it. 

Wanda notices your change in demeanor and pulls away, her brows furrowing and concern in her eyes.

You put both your hands on her cheeks, staring into her transcendent emerald eyes, only a few centimeters away from your own. 

“Promise me you’ll be safe in that car, ok?” You tell her with tears in your eyes. “I don’t ever want to lose you, Wanda.” 

She smiles, holding both your wrists and rubbing her thumbs over the back of your hand. “I promise, detka,” She kisses you, and you feel the worry dissipate from your body. “I’ll be ok.” 

You take a deep breath, letting your anxious thoughts calm down. “Ok, good,” you say as you grab her hand once more. “Let’s go scare Pietro at your party, ok? I can’t wait to get him back for last year.” 

Wanda chuckles at your antics, her laugh becoming a serene smile on her face. She didn’t care about the party. You had already made everything perfect in her mind.  

As the two of you start walking, Wanda’s voice cuts through the air. 

“Hey, Y/N?” You hum in response. 

“I never want to lose you either.” 

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you back your car out of your driveway. 

Then, you drive off into the night, in the direction of your dying, once greatest love.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hello! I came up with an idea for bi-han and Tomas. What would your reaction be like waking up naked next to your secret crush? As if they had a dinner with more friends the night before and they overindulged in alcohol, which led them to this situation. You don't have to do it if you don't want to ;)

bonus at the end!

Bi-Han: -Waking up with a headache pounding in your head is already terrible. -But also turning around and having your crush face at one inch of distance, nose already brushing against each other, is a heart attack inducing experience. -You don't scream, soul already left your body long ago, but you stop breathing, worried you may wake up the grumpy grandmaster. -You don't remember anything about the previous night, but you still have clothes on. -But these aren't yours. -This is gonna be remembered as the day you grew more than one lock of white hair. -You spot your clothes on a chair, so you lift up slowly as you can, trying to regain your clothes and possibly disappear without leaving any trace. Forever. -"What do you think you are doing?" It's a voice you recognize way too well. The clearness of it not matching the owner face, tho. Eyes half closed and hair perfect as a nest. His very cold hand grabbed your ankle, stopping you in your place. "Home? Under the ground? Disappear?" -Now he looks better at you, onyx eyes piercing your body, mouth slightly open trying to elaborate your words, like you just said the dumbest thing on the planet. -"Nothing happened yesterday night, go back to sleep." "Can you elaborate a bit more?" You politely ask, still not feeling same. -"Yesterday you got drunk like a some dumb teenager and never stopped clinging to me. I just helped you." He groans, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Why am I wearing your clothes then?" "You poured your nth drink on yourself, and I didn't want your dirty and sticky clothes in my bed." "Oh." A few seconds of silence, his hand now pulling your ankle towards the bed, getting more forceful. -"So, you took care of me! You have a soft spot for me!" You shout in excitement, making Bi-Han groan again "Ohhh do you have a crush for me, Grandmaster?" His pillow hit you straight in the face. -There must still be alcohol running in your blood because you would never be so brave in daily life. -"Don't worry, it's the same for me!" And something clicks in Bi-Han's mind, you see it in his eyes, now awake, mouth slightly open; he almost looks awestruck. -"Go back. It's too early now." He grumbles back, eyes close again and head on his pillow, yours thrown somewhere in the room after hitting your face. -You plop next to him immediately. After all those trainings, you are sure he wouldn't mind if you use his biceps as a pillow.

Tomas Vrbada: -You wake up in his arms, trapped in his hold. Not because he is actually holding you, his arms are simply heavy, and you are too tired to move them. -You want to die, worm your way out of his bed, and pop away in a cloud of smoke. -Maybe your thoughts are too loud, and soon you hear a groan, greyish eyes now open, looking straight into yours. -"Oh! Eheh. Seems like we got closer again while sleeping." You gulp, your mouth still dry. "What happened yesterday?" -You sit up, and he follows you, trying to keep the same eye level. "It was an…intense night. Maybe it's better if we talk in the kitchen." You nod. "The? Coffee?" You tell him your choice, now you are standing up, noticing that you aren't wearing the clothes of yesterday night, but what it seems a layer of Tomas' usual suit. -"Yesterday you drank too much, and kept clinging on me." "…" "Then when I brang you to my house, you poured on your clothes the water I gave you." "Wow I was a fucking mess." "Well I can't say the opposite. That's why you are wearing a part of my suit." Tomas says, turning sideways. There a fat red hickey catches your attention. -"I must have ruined your fun." You say, chuckling with death in your heart. "What do you mean?" He replies, furrowing his eyebrows. You point at your neck, where his hickey should be. His eyes widened before looking down bashfully, making you feel even worse. -"This…you made this." -WHAT. It's the turn of your eyes to widen. "You were a bit touchy-feely yesterday." -You felt like barfing, and not for the alcohol. "This is terrible Tomas! I'm so sorry." You say, voice full of sorrow for your actions. "D-Don't worry. But you need to promise me this-" "I swear I'll never drink again, I'll never bother youo, I-" "No, please listen. I think we need a bit of distance between us." -Straight to your heart. Hit and sunk. -"Don't misunderstand. I-I have a crush on you." Tomas says holding your hand, but eyes still on the ground. "Yesterday hurt like nothing else. I wanted to kiss you back and love you. But I didn't want to take advantage of you. It just isn't right." Now his grey eyes look back into yours, expression serious. -"I don't want our friendship to be ruined because of my feelings-" "I like you back." Tomas' mouth hangs open. You don't give him the time to reply. "I have been for a long time. That must be why I kept clinging to you yesterday. Now, if you want distance because I did something wrong I agree with you. But if you want distance because your crush may not be reciprocated, I have to deny your request." Your head still hurts like crazy and you don't know with which strength you are able to talk with such determination in your voice. -Now both your hands holding. Heart beating in unison. -"N-No, I mean. It's the second case. Like…do you really have a crush on me?" Tomas's cheeks get more and more red each second going by. His voice a bit higher than usual. "I do." -He releases your hands, now covering his face. "I can't believe this. You really have a crush on me?" "If you ask again I may change my mind." "No! Okay, you have a crush on me." "I do. You too?" "Absolutely." -"So…don't I look cute?" You say twirling around, his suit fluttering when you twirl on your place. "Yes, you do." He finally looks at you, but looks at you for real. Your bedhair, makeup smudged and his suit makes you look absurdly cute. -"Don't you think cute things should be kissed?" He nods. "Tomas?" "Mh?" He replies, mind clearly elsewhere. "Kiss me." This time the message was delivered. -Thankfully you both forgot to have morning breath.

bonus under the read more!

I know that with "you" you meant the reader, not my opinion in waking up in such a scenario, so I'm gonna write down here what I would do LOL.

Bi-Han: I can't believe that I would sleep with him even if intoxicated. But if it happeend I'll just crawl away and hope to never see him again. If he notices me I'd say something along the "I thought you were Johnny Cage". At that point I'm sure that I would be able to exit his house, dead or alive. Probably dead.

Tomas: Oh-I forgot what happened, maybe we should remake what happened yesterday night *twirling hair*. Maybe once won't be enough? Let's go for twice. You know what? Three is the perfect number, are you ready. 1-2-3 go!

[artists-who-rarely-draws]

Hunt down the good in me.

Garroth version.

This was a request from amaizing fan fic writer @starhvney where the reader is injured taking a blow for Laurance.

G/n Reader

Warning: Gore, nothing too crazy but the reader is injured, and I tell you about it, as well as gore being mentioned with the people who ambushed you. Shadow knight Laurance goes on a rampage, hurt comfort both in the literal and metaphorical sense lmfao.

Tysm for the requests! I am always open for more as long as my inbox is open!

Please enjoy!

You really should have expected it you suppose. The bandits had gotten used to easy life outside the remains of Pheonix Drop, raiding supply carts and merchants on their way to or from the small settlement. Obviously they weren't going to leak new arrivals with much bigger equipment than the rest of the inhabitants arriving out of nowhere, much LESS better equipped people fixing the village walls and gates. You suppose you expected them to be more... subtle... cowardly? In their approach to it. Oh how wrong you were.

Thank Irene Laurance carried his greatsword at all times because the closest thing to a weapon *you* currently had was a pick axe to work on the stone parts of the wall, sure sure it would suck ALOT to catch a pickaxe to the... well, anywhere, but it's nothing compared to an actual intended weapon. Laurance took the lead, telling you to stand back the moment the first bandit stepped out of the trees. And you QUICKLY realized just why Laurance was on the potential Jury of Nine list. But at some point, no matter the skill level, numbers can override it.

About 34 bandits had come out of the forest, a handful of the smart ones fled when they saw Laurances sheer skill with a greatsword. You were no expert but you knew that the great sword was one of the more difficult weapons to wield, it's huge size made it's attacks devastating but it required alot of effort to use it, once you were committed to a swing you were just that, committed using this sword was something you had to put the whole momentum of your body into. Apparently, a bandit had figured that out to, as time seems too slow, you watch a masked bandit dual wielding daggers preparing to strike just as Laurance is trapped in a strike against 3 bandits. You can't let this happen! If Laurance gets heavily injured, then it would be pitifully easy for them to take you out being unarmed and then break in and do who knows what to the village! Well... at least that's what you're going to say when Laurance inevitably chews you out for surging forward. Truth being that that you just... didn't want to see your love get hurt no matter the extent.

You throw yourself between Laurance and the bandits blade, adrenaline running through your system before swinging the pick axe with all your might at the bandits head, having to tense your whole body to keep from a full body recoil at the feelings running through you of it tearing through skin and cracking bone the bandit letting out a gurgling cut off shout.

You honestly don't even feel the dagger enter and lodge into your side, turning your head to the side quickly to find Laurance already staring over his shoulder to you, breath held and eyes wide. You couldn't tell, trapped looking into his eyes as shock turned to a lightless rage, but everyone else had stopped fighting as the forest went *silent* no rustling of leaves or chirping of birds, the only sound now to be heard was a reverberating growl from Laurance. Smoke billowing out of the sides of his mouth as his form starts growing much larger.

His scream tears through the forest as he grows he reaches forward, grabbing the nearest bandit by the head and slaming them on the ground with a sickening crack. Fully Shadow knight as he springs forward blood red sword viciously and furiously putting an end to the bandits. You can hardly take it all in, not only with the speed and complexity of his movements, but the smell of sulfur and second dose of adrenaline that rushed through you when he turned, the responce of a injured prey animal desperately trying to run *just a little more* left you lightheaded. But you ignore it, not only because it would only agitate him further, but also.... it was Laurance, the sweet, kind, and thoughtful man you fell in love with, and you weren't going to let your body convince you he was a threat.

Some bandits had tried to run... they didn't get far. Laurance didn't spare even a single one, the forest around you stained red as far as the eye could see, covered in mangled corpses. Laurance stands over what was once... a bandit. Body eerily still as smoke whisps off of his armor. You want to give him a moment to cool down, literally and metaphorically. But the adrenaline has completely left you, and you are more and more aware of the searing pain in your side. No one tells you how much being stabbed feels like fire.

"L-laurance?" Is all you can hoarsely mutter, blood dribbling from your lips before falling to your knees. The shadow knight wips around red eyes wide "Y/N!" He shouts as if snapped out of a trance he runs sliding to his knees to your side.

"I-its okay, you ok-kay don't talk don't talk, I'm here I have you" he rambles quickly, voice trembling as he babbles out reassurances that seem more for himself than you, as he harshly tears at his cape, pain scorching up your side as he ties it to the dagger securing it to your side. You don't know what comes after this.... but you know that just in case you want...

"Love.. you.." You mummer voice hardly a whisper causing him to jump eyes back to that Marble blue, tears falling down his cheeks quickly.

"I Love you, I love you so fucking much, you have to be fine, your fine. We will say it again tomorrow, okay??" He stammers out, starting to pick you up... but your world goes black.

Everything after is a strange.. choppy blur. Laurance held you close to his chest as he ran to Donna's home. Laurance would shout and fight anytime someone tried to convince him to leave your side. And then... you fully fell unconscious.

There's a dull throbbing throughout your entire body, and you're thirsty. You can barely let out a little groan with how dry your throat is. You scrunch up your face and move to tighten your hands into fists before you prop yourself up, but you end up squeezing the hand in yours.

"Y/N!" Laurance shoots up, holding your hand tightly with both of his. You open your eyes to be met with Laurances wide baby blues, tears fulling his eyes as he quickly leans down to give you a heart achingly tender kiss. Cupping your cheek with one hand, you raise one of your own to do the same, ignoring your protesting muscles.

"Thank Irene" he whispers forehead pressed against your own, his tears fall onto your own cheeks, before you work to brush them away.

He will demand to know what you were thinking later... right now he just wants to bask in *you*.