#it has been far too long since I last played Sword I need it for mental health fdfgf

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 nightgown

synopsis: after two wonderful years with the swordsman, you're reluctant to let him go, especially without telling him how you feel. luckily, he feels the exact same way... and more than accepts your scanty going away present.

cw: part 2/3, nsfw, fluffy fluff, comfort, reader is FIONE, reader is also real as hell, zoro is a fiend, mihawk is such dad, this was so fun to write.

a/n: tagging: @that-b-word-lol @ihatespidersdie I NEED THIS MAN UNDER MY TREE

"C'mon, (y/n), they're not gonna fight if you keep playing with 'em," Zoro sighed, removing his sword from his mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You giggled, unable to fight off your smile as you danced with the humandrills, relishing in their happy snorts and yips as the leader of the gang—Chuki—picked you up and placed you on his shoulder, happily parading you around.

"Sorry," you grinned, clapping with approval as a few of the others performed back-flips and cartwheels to keep your attention. "I was coming out to check on you guys."

Just then, Chuki let out a howl of excitement, wanting to join in on the fun.

Without warning, he launched himself into a somersault, completely forgetting you were on his shoulder and sending you flying.

'Not again...'

Zoro moved like he'd done this a hundred times—which he had—effortlessly shooting himself up and catching you in mid-air, bridal style.

"Every time?" he asked, raising a brow.

"I'm gonna miss this," you chuckled, looping an arm around his neck as he landed.

"The hell are you gonna do when I'm gone?" he carefully put you down, crossing his arms over his chest once again. "I'm not gonna be here to keep you from falling on your face."

You shrugged, turning to Chuki with a wide smile as he gave you a high five, "I guess I'll just have to learn how to land on my own."

"HA!"

The swordsman scoffed, shoulders bobbing with laughter as you snapped your head over to him, less amused.

"The girl who can barely hold a sword? I'd love to see it."

"Hey!"

"Hu hu hua!" Chuki mimicked, turning to you with an incredulous look. "Ooh, ah ah ah, hua!"

"I know right," you agreed, resting a hand on your hip as you glanced at the swordsman. "And smelly, too..."

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

Gloom Island was known all-throughout the Grand Line as an abandoned island, its kingdoms having brought themselves to utter ruin after years of war.

Your parents had even been drafted, and, of course, killed in the line of duty.

But, by fate or by fortune, you had managed to survive, living through most of your childhood as an orphan in a battle-ravaged kingdom.

Until, eventually, you were the last one standing.

Alone, you searched for any survivors, managing to stumble across a devil fruit along the way before meeting the humandrills.

The Speak-Speak fruit allowed you to become fluent in any language from the moment you heard it spoken aloud—animal language, included.

So, after meeting them on their level, the monkeys took you in, protecting you and treating you as one of their own until Mihawk came along not too long after, taking up the role as your father-figure and mentor.

Naturally, he tried to teach you some swordsmanship, but you lacked... talent, to say the least.

"I've gotten better since the last time we trained together!" you bellowed, proudly, as you picked up a sword, lowering yourself into an offensive stance. "Look!"

"Your posture's off," Zoro noticed, off-rip, "And your feet are too far apart."

Breath hitching, your face glowed with embarrassment, your body practically freezing in place.

'Shit!'

And just as you were trying to prove a point...

"Here," he instructed, getting up behind you and pressing his hand into the small of your back, straightening you up. "Like this."

Your spine shivered at his touch, the thick pads of his fingers practically burning into your flesh, despite the fabric separating them.

"Pull your feet a bit closer... it will firm up your stance... And if you're facing an enemy head on like this, you're gonna want to be upright."

"Okay!" you squeaked, doing your best to make the adjustments without physically combusting.

Carefully, you pulled your feet in shoulder width, and used his hand as a guide to straighten up your posture.

"Good," he commended, his arms suddenly coming around you grab your hands, helping you fix your grip on the sword. "Now when you swing, I want you to step into it."

You felt chills when his hands touched yours, years of work evident in his rough, calloused flesh, which held yours with the gentlest touch.

Turning to glance at him, your eyes came up to meet his once more, telling a story that made you just want to sit down and listen.

You studied his facial features up close—for about the fifty-millionth time—taking note of everything you had come to admire in the last two years.

The slight pink of his tanned lips...

The strength of his jaw...

The faint scar that rested on the tip of his shoulder, not that such a detail could be picked up unless one was really looking.

You felt like the staring going on for ages, but you didn't want to look away, and neither did he.

He, too, was studying your face.

And, deep down, he never wanted to look away.

"Dinner is ready," your father's voice cut through the air, draining all the color from your face.

Instantly, you and Zoro quickly threw yourselves off each other, heat rising to both your faces as you turned away, embarrassed—and slightly scared for the swordsman.

Mihawk fixed Zoro with a sharp glare, sizing him up as if he was some sort of delinquent.

He had been suspicious of you and the swordsman since the moment he arrived, particularly suspect as to why you felt so inclined to help him.

He knew you were a smart girl, and wouldn't disregard everything he had ever taught you about being safe without a valid reason.

A valid reason being a handsome man, in this case.

Still, what was he supposed to expect?

You were a woman now—no matter how difficult it was for him to accept—and women had... needs.

Mihawk shivered at the thought, quickly purging it from his mind as he turned on his heel, power-walking back toward the castle.

Not under his roof...

"Don't dawdle... it'll get cold."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Come in," Zoro called, not moving from his spot resting peacefully on his bed, his hands tucked behind his head.

"Happy Going Away/Leaving To Reunite With Your Friends Tomorrow Day!" you smiled, carefully entering his room while holding a plate with a comically large onigiri on top, a sparkler sticking out of it. "I know you don't like cake, so I brought the next best thing!"

Warmed by the display, Zoro sat up, trying and failing to fight the smile rising to his lips as you approached.

'Adorable...'

"(y/n)... you didn't have to do all his," he started, not knowing what to say as you handed him his gift.

"I know that. But I figured you deserved something special to commemorate all the hard work you've done," you nodded, sheepishly. "You put up with my dad for two years... of your own free will... that alone is its own achievement."

Letting out a small chuckle, the swordsman suddenly found his eyes drifting to you, only to be met by your pretty, (e/c) eyes staring down at him, the entire room fading around you two.

He barely believed his eyes as he drank you in—your appearance sinful enough to make the devil sweat.

Instead of your usual long, black dress, you wore a tiny, black nightgown, which accentuated your luscious, curvaceous body and exposed the enticing flesh of your thighs.

You paired the little number with some black pumps, which he bet barely made you taller than him if you were to stand up.

The moonlight pouring in from the window illuminated your skin and glossed up, plump lips at curled into a nervous smile at the sight of him.

Topped off with the sweet silkiness of your voice; the way your body sensually moved; how you smelled of cocoa butter and vanilla.

Quietly, Zoro cursed under his breath, practically reeling.

God, if the last two years were anything, they were a testament to his willpower...

He had never felt this way before.

So distracted.

So obsessed.

You plagued his mind every hour of the day, the thoughts ranging from wholesome to downright scandalous.

Seeing you around the castle, watching the movement of your hips and the graceful slide of your hands, making him feel extremely stiff.

'Christ...'

He tried not to think of you like that.

You were the daughter of his sworn enemy, and a sweetheart, at that...

You deserved a nice guy, one that had a regular life, with a regular job and regular urges.

Not a jaded pirate like himself.

But you were just so damn alluring, he couldn't help himself.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You blinked once, coming out of the trance the man had put you under with a confused raise of your brow.

"Huh?" you asked, dumbly, your mind having turned to mush in the five minutes you were staring at him.

"I said," he pointedly repeated, placing the plate down on his nightstand before standing to his full height, towering over you. "What do you think you're doing?"

Nervous, your manicured hand wrapped around your arm, the swordsman's mind immediately traveling somewhere else.

"I... don't know what you're talking about," you muttered, eyes drifting away from him.

You tried to think quick, scouring your mind for some sort of excuse as he fixed his gaze on you like a predator would his pray.

You knew you couldn't chicken out now.

Especially after all the work you put into getting ready.

"You come in here..." he started, slowly pressing forward, forcing you to step back in order to keep some air between you two. "Dressed like that... just to give me a going-away present?"

You swallowed, thickly, continuing to move backward as he continued to invade your space, his eye cutting you down to size like a cat does a mouse.

"What are you trying to do?"

You turn away slightly, pulling your soft, glossy lip into a nervous bite.

"I just... wanted to look nice... for you," you muttered, resting your hands behind your back.

"Did you, now?" he cocked a brow. "Y'know... after all this time, I think I've finally got you figured out."

With a squeak, your back met the wall, forcing you to stay put as the swordsman caged you in, his muscular body leaving no route of escape.

"I think... you're a sweet girl, who's never met a pirate before, or been allowed outside the confines of this island, that thinks that she can stick it to her father by flirting with the man who is hellbent on taking him down."

Zoro raised a brow, cockily, a teasing smirk rising to his lips.

"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"

"Hardly," you denied, a small air of confidence returning the wind to your sails.

It caught his attention immediately.

"I may be sweet... and you may be my father's rival... but you forget that I am I woman."

His breath hitched, eye widening slightly as you pulled yourself off the wall, taking your turn to move forward and regain some ground.

"A woman who's been lonely for quite some time... a woman who enjoys your company more than she'd care to admit... a woman who's never had more fun than in the two years you've lived in her house..."

You rested your hand against his chest, the swordsman scared you would feel his heart beating against his rib-cage.

"A woman who's found herself falling in love with the idiot that crash landed on her island..."

Eye wide, Zoro flushed at your boldness, looking away from your intense, (e/c) eyes.

"You don't mean that..." he attempted to rationalize, suddenly unable to comprehend the possibility of you actually liking him.

This had to be a trick.

You were just doing this to piss off your dad...

Right?

You stared at him with hooded eyes, flashing him a bashful, crooked smile that nearly had him melting into the floor.

"If I didn't... do you think I'd be standing here right now?"

The floodgates were opened.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, Zoro roughly yanked you forward, pulling you into his chest as you let out a gasp of surprise.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, holding himself back by the thinnest string of his sanity. "If we do this... there's no going back. And after tomorrow, you won't see me for who knows how long..."

He looked you up and down, giving you a stare that would make any woman weak in the knees.

"You gonna be okay with that?"

Seriously, you nodded, looking up at him with sparkling eyes that nearly set his heart on fire.

"Alright, then... no holding back."

And he took "no holding back" with the utmost seriousness, managing to make you cum three times throughout your night in his room.

The first time was on his couch, coaxing you to bend over and let him massage and spank your soft, jiggly ass, which he swore was heaven sent when he plunged his tongue into your velvety folds, relishing in your soft moans and desperate grinds into his face.

The second time was in his bed, your legs pinned down onto the mattress while he tailed you, his cock plunging in and out of you as his arms wrapped around your body, allowing you to feel safe and comfortable while he dicked you down, feeling feral at the sight of your smooth tummy and soft tits.

The third and last time—because your virgin self simply couldn't take anymore—was when he bent you over and fucked you from behind on the foot of his bed.

His hands held your hips while he leaned over, physically holding you up on your jelly-like legs.

Your hands frantically fisted the sheets as he pounded into you, his firm thighs meeting your ass cheeks as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow.

Because, to him, there wasn't.

"F-Fuck! Oh, my God! Right there!" you sobbed. "Yes, please! Right there!"

He watched your pretty face contort in pleasure, loving how soft you felt pressed against him, and how you sounded moaning from the lips he'd been kissing all night.

"Nuh-uh," he huffed in your ear, leaning down to nip at your lobe. "S'not God that's doin' this, pretty. Who's really makin' you feel good?"

"Zoro!" you moaned, a pitiful whine following after. "H-How are you so good at this?"

He grinned, becoming cocky at seeing you lose your mind on his dick.

"You tell me," he teasingly ordered. "How good am I?"

SMACK!

The sharp sound of his hand connecting with your ass cheek made you let out a harsh groan of pleasure, your pussy clenching around him.

"So good!" you gasped, the sensations too much.

Feeling you tighten around him, Zoro let out a harsh grunt, fighting off the moan ready to leave his lips.

"Christ... body's so fuckin' perfect," he groaned, kneading one of your tits in his calloused hand as he sped up, hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars. "Look at you... so damn pretty."

"Oh, Zoro! I can't!" you moaned, bottom lip quivering at the coil in your stomach wound tighter and tighter. "I can't...Z-Zoro, m'gunna! M'gunna—!"

"You gonna, gonna what?" he chuckled. "You wanna cum for me again?"

You pathetically nodded, forcing his grin even wider.

"So greedy..."

But so was he.

He would fuck you all night if he could, but he was reaching his limit same as you.

"Cum for me, (y/n)," he ordered, huskily, as he leaned down to your ear, slamming into you harder and you frantically rubbed your clit. "I'm close, too. Rub that little pussy and fuckin' give it to me, baby!"

It doesn't take long for him to blow his load inside of you, flooding you with cum that dripped down your thighs.

His moans of pleasure triggered you, causing your pussy to quiver and flutter around him as you came.

A moan of his name and a few swears left your lips as you rode it out, coating his cock in your sticky juices.

Turning around, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you in a tender moment of bliss.

Pressing his lips against yours, his hand came up to cup your cheek, the embrace feeling like nothing short of a goodbye.

When your highs finally subsided, Zoro gently pulled out of you, making your pussy spurt out his cum.

The sight nearly made him hard all over again.

'Fuuuuck...'

"Sorry," you groggily apologized, already half asleep as you laid down, your half-lidded, (e/c) eyes still sparkling in the moonlight.

Amused by your fucked out state, he scooped you up, effortlessly, carrying you up to the head of the bed and placing you down among the pillows.

With a yawn, he climbed in with you, stomach faintly fluttering as you rested your head on his chest, nuzzling tightly into his side.

"M'gonna miss you, Zoro," you softly said into the quiet, dimly lit room, "...A lot"

Carefully, he rested his hand on your back, his thumb drawing mindless circles into your skin.

As much as he loved this—your company, your touch, you—he knew that come morning, he would still have to leave.

He had a dream, and an obligation to the family he called his crew.

He couldn't just abandon that.

His brows furrowed, a look of determination settling on his face.

But that didn't mean he couldn't make you a promise.

"I'll come back for you," he stated, plainly, without a doubt in his mind. "When I'm the Greatest Swordsman... and when Luffy's King of the Pirates... I'll come back for you. And I'll take you out to sea, and show you all the places you read about in your books."

Looking up at him, your sleepy eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, nearly turning him into a puddle.

"Really?" you asked, adorably.

With a nod, he pecked a soft kiss on your hairline, before leaning back into the pillows.

"Really."

BONUS!!

"Oi, Chuki!" Zoro called as he walked through the ruins, knapsack thrown over his shoulder. "Come out here! I gotta talk to you about somethin'!"

The swordsman had left his room in the wee hours of the morning, managing to wiggle out your grasp and clean himself up before placing a tender goodbye kiss on your forehead, leaving you to sleep.

The previous night introduced some new feelings to him, and if he was going to get a lick of sleep out at sea, he needed to take care of one final thing.

"C'mon! It's about (y/n)!"

At the sound of your name, the large humandrill immediately showed himself, jumping out from behind a stone column with a loud whoop, which sounded eerily like what's wrong.

"With me gone... and with Hawk-Eye on his trips for the Navy... (y/n)'s gonna be on this island all by herself," Zoro started, brows cinched together, seriously.

This was the only thing that was going to quell his worries.

"I don't know what's gonna happen in the next few years, but if any pirates, or even the World Government, come stickin' their noses around this place... you send them flyin', you understand?"

Using the handle of his sword, he pointed toward the castle, where you slept peacefully, safe and secure.

"No one goes near her. No one even makes it to the castle. You fight like your goddamn life depends on it, alright? 'Cause it does."

Surprised, the monkey swallowed thickly, especially when the swordsman's eye landed on him with the harshest glare he had ever seen.

Even harsher than Mihawk's.

"I come back here and find out that she got hurt on your watch... you, and all of your monkey pals, are finished... Understand?"

Frantic, and terrified, Chuki chittered in agreement, rigidly saluting the man for confirmation.

With a proud grin, Zoro nodded, continuing on his trek to the shore as he waved to the baboon, along with the hundred others fearfully watching from the trees.

"Good... I'll see you guys around."

[boyfrillish]

Hop is visiting the isle of armor!!!! Happy birthday to me!!!!!

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter Five

A/N: First Sunday without a new hotd episode, how are we feeling? Hopefully, this fic can help fill that hotd void. Once again, thank you so much for all of your comments, likes, and reblogs on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one, too <3

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 3.6k Synopsis: In Jace's absence, the reader contends with their feelings, finally coming to the realization that these feelings aren't going away.

Tag List: @rinisfruity14, @gaiaea, @rexorangecouny, @burningwitchobject, @brckenmemories, @thenotesapppoet, @elleclairez

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tension hangs in the air throughout the entire Keep the next morning. As you walk down the halls towards Rhaena’s room, you hear hushed discussions, spot worried faces, and fear slowly creeps over you.

The first thing you hear when you get to Rhaena’s room is her hushed tone saying, “He’ll be fine.” You feel as though you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be, and try to walk back out, but Baela spots you and waves you in.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say.

“You didn’t,” Baela says.

“Is everything alright?”

“There is unrest in the Iron Islands,” Rhaena says. “It seems the Lannisters and a few lords of the Iron Islands have been fighting over territory.”

“It is an uprising,” Baela corrects. “And the queen has sent Jace to attend to it.”

“Tend to it?” you ask quietly, panic icing your body.

“He’s going to be fine,” Rhaena says, looking to her sister.

“I know,” she says softly.

“He might not see any battle,” she says. “We don’t yet know what the status is.” They both look equally concerned for Jace, and you hate that you can’t share your own concern with them.

He had come to your room last night, and with a horrifying realization, you know he was coming to tell you goodbye. He had been trying to tell you he was leaving, and you had denied him.

“He’ll be fine,” you agree aloud, because he is your prince and that’s what everyone must say when the heir is in danger; but also because you need to believe it for yourself, too.

In the coming days, rumors spread. Some claim there is absolutely no warring in the islands, just quarrels between land-hungry lords. Others say it is bloodshed comparable to the peaks of the war. And there are those who declare it is all a ruse to solidify the crown's position.

None of it makes you feel any better. There is, however, the bitter hope inside of you that Lord Blacktyde is somehow involved and might be taken out by an arrow or swing of a sword, if fighting has indeed broke out. But your thoughts can’t rest there for long, so stuck on Jace are they.

You keep playing over what happened in the Dragonpit, how you left things. It seemed the right thing to do, albeit painful. There was no future for you and Jace, giving in to it for even a day would doom you for the rest of your life.

You try to throw yourself into other tasks. You embroider a dress for Jeyne, go to the coast with Rhaena to watch her bond with Morning, and keep your meetings with more suitors.

There is one such suitor, a Ser Swann, who you have met with twice before. He is kind, can sometimes make you laugh, and is by far the best candidate. But when he looks at you, when his hand brushes yours, you feel nothing.

You remember how you clung to Jace in the Dragonpit, the easy way he held you and made you feel safe. Even just the feeling of your hand in his sent a spark through you. You hate to compare the two men, but every interaction with Jace, even just a passing meeting in the hallway, left your heart racing.

During your date with Ser Swann, these thoughts never leave you. Everything he does, you imagine from someone else's lips, someone else's hand. That night, as you lay in bed, you toss and turn. It has been five days since Jacaerys left, and still, you cannot get him out of your thoughts.

Why did you refuse him entry? Why did you drop his hand? Why didn’t you kiss him, just once?

Jace had created plenty of opportunity for the two of you to kiss. He had sat next to you in this very bed, taken care of you, seen you at your lowest, and still he wanted to kiss you. He brought you to spar with him, clearly seeing the way you were longing for him, and kept you close to him, to see if you would finally act. In the gardens and in the Dragonpit, he had held your body to his, kept you safe, and yet, you pushed him away.

What was wrong with you?

He will return from the Iron Islands, you know. You have to believe. But the chance you might have had with him, you fear is quickly dwindling away.

You had told him he would ruin you, if you gave into your desires. But the truth was, he already had ruined you. You know that now. Ser Swann was a perfectly fine gentleman, and you could have been happy with him, if you didn’t know that there was better.

You are ruined for any other man, because every other man is not him.

You get very little sleep that night. When Brigitta comes in the next morning to wake you, you are already up, exhaustion written over your face.

“My lady,” she says, slightly in chaste, but also in concern.

“I’m fine, Brigitta. Nothing a cup of tea won’t fix.” She is silent as she prepares the tea for you, but when she brings it over, there is a note left next to the mug.

“He left that for you,” she says. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to read it or not, but I think you better.”

“Thank you,” you say, forgetting the tea altogether as you rip open the seal. Brigitta gives you a moment's privacy and goes about getting your outfit ready for the day.

Y/N – I am sorry to leave without saying goodbye. Do not worry for me, I promise I will return safely. I hope that the time I am gone will be enough space for you, as I would very much like to continue our conversation from the Dragonpit, if you’ll grant me such leave.

Yours, Jace

“Are you ready, My Lady?” Brigitta asks. You aren’t sure if she's referring to something in the note, the dress she holds in her hand, or something else, but the letter has given you a new sense of purpose.

“I am.”

As she gets you ready, Brigitta lets you know that the flowers in the gardens have bloomed and recommends that you see them for yourself today. You had forgotten to find a task for the day, and you’re thankful for her idea.

You are making your way towards the gardens, when he comes around the opposite hallway.

“Prince Jacaerys,” you say, stopping abruptly in the hallway. Your knees wobble, nearly knocking you to the floor, seeing him in one piece. “I didn’t realize you had returned.”

“Just,” he says. You take a moment to look him over, checking for any visible injuries.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t see you that night,” you say, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your gown. Jace frowns at you, frowns at the movement. He glances at the guards following him and nods them away. You watch them slip into the nearest door.

“Don’t apologize,” he says, “You wanted to be left alone.”

“I did say that,” you say, “But if you are heading into dangerous territory, of course I would want to know, want to hear you out,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Needless to remind you, Y/N, I’m a prince,” he says, “Often I am sent to do dangerous things.”

“Of course,” you say with a tight-lipped smile. Sudden frustration fills your bloodstream at his cool demeanor. He has never acted this closed off with you and you aren't sure how to navigate through it. The courage you had felt when you left your room seems to be fading quickly.

“I got your letter,” you say weakly.

“Good,” he says, glancing down at his boots. There is a strange silence, that is so unlike the two of you. He is nervous, angry with with you, or just over his feelings? This behavior from him is so unexpected, you want to run away before you do something embarrassing.

“Well, welcome home, Your Highness,” you say stiffly.

“You sound as though you were worried for me,” he says, before you can turn from him. You meet his eyes, and somewhere in them, you see the Jace you know.

“You are the future of the realm, of course I worry for you,” you say. Jace lets out a tut of laughter, closing some of the distance between the two of you.

“Of course,” he says to himself. “Is that all?” he asks, his eyes locking with yours again.

“What?”

“Is that the only reason you worried?”

“Jace,” you say, your voice barely a breath.

“I hate it when you call me anything other than Jace,” he says with a smile. At the sight of that smile, ridiculously, your breathing turns shallow. You watch Jace’s eyes fall to your chest, watching the rise and fall of your breasts. You realize how close he has gotten to you, how close you’ve allowed him to get.

“I could have died, I very nearly almost did,” he says lowly. Your eyebrows scrunch in worry, and Jace brushes your hair out of your face, his hand cupping your cheek. “Because I know you, I know you must have thought about if I did. You must have thought about regrets, what you would do if you ever saw me again.”

“Jace,” you try again, putting a hand on his chest, partially to push him away, and also to feel him, feel his beating heart. He is right and he knows it. He has grown to know you so well in the last weeks. Every night, you played this moment over in your mind again and again, what you would do when you saw him again.

“Y/N,” he says, just as soft.

“I didn’t worry too much,” you whisper, lying, “You told me you’d return.” Jace’s eyes flick between yours and your lips.

“You believed me?” he asks lowly.

“Yes,” you say, realizing that it was easy. You trust him and believe in him. Up until the Dragonpit, you had truly thought that his feelings were based purely on attraction. But seeing him now, looking into his eyes, you know he was telling the truth. It’s love in his eyes, and a weight lifts off you when you realize the same feeling is inside you, too. You love him, and in that moment, you know that no matter what comes, you want him, for as long as you can have him.

“Was this enough time apart?” he asks with a smile, “I’m not sure I can—”

“Yes,” you say, and before Jace gets the chance to say anything, your lips finally, finally meet his. His lips are soft, and it only takes a moment for him to shake his shock and take control of the kiss. You very nearly moan as he does, seamlessly pinning you against the wall.

Your hands are on his face, in his hair, anything to pull him closer. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you do moan. The sound elicits a similar one from Jace, and he presses you firmer into the wall. His rough hands trail down your sides, gripping your waist, holding you flush against him. In that moment, you would have let him touch you anywhere and everywhere, just to keep him close to you, keep him alive.

A throat clears at the end of the hallway, and you snap back to your senses, breaking away from each other. You take a healthy step back from him and adjust your dress. Jace is breathing heavily, a beautiful smile on his face.

A glance down the hall reveals a white cloak, just a shoulder standing outside of the doorframe. You assume it’s Ser Harrold, thankfully bringing you both to your senses.

You look at Jace and both laugh when his eyes meet yours. He moves closer to you, and takes your hand, placing a gentle, but far too long to be proper, kiss to it. You take a shaky breath at the look in his eyes as he looks up at you.

“I love you,” you say gently. Jace’s eyes widen, and he looks to be in physical pain that he can’t kiss you again. He just smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry to have worried you, Lady Y/N,” he says.

“I’m just happy you’ve returned.”

“As am I,” he says. He nods down the hallway, holding out an arm for you. You take it, your pulse quickening at the closeness of your bodies. You look up at him, seeing the smile on his lips, the slight pink tint to them from your kiss.

“I need to see my mother, tell her about my journey,” he says, continuing the walk down the hallway, “But I want to see you as soon as possible. Will you join me for supper tonight? In my quarters.”

“Jace,” you start. He looks down at you, a smile growing on his face.

“Please.”

You can only nod your head. He smiles and breaks from your side, leaving you cold. He kisses your hand once again.

“My chambers, just after sunset,” he says.

“Yes.”

It is dark in his room when you arrive. This shouldn’t surprise you; he invited you after sunset. But in the dark, you aren’t sure what you’ll do. You broke all conduct and kissed him in daylight, with several guards within earshot.

Candles are strewn about his room. Soft light illuminates Jace in the corner, adjusting his shirt nervously in the mirror. In the reflection, he sees you, and a smile grows on his face.

He crosses the room in two strides and rest his hands on your waist. His lips are gentle when they meet yours. You push him off at the first brush, looking around the room anxiously.

“Don’t worry,” he says, tugging at your waist slightly to have you face him. “I dismissed all the servants. Ser Harold is the only one at the door. He has already promised his secrecy.” You let out a sigh, smiling at him as you trace his jawline with your finger. He closes the gap between the two of you again, and you don’t pull away this time.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he says, resting his forehead against yours when he breaks away.

“Me too,” you say with a laugh. Jace kisses you again before taking your hand and leading you over to his table. A small feast is laid out before you. Jace pulls out a chair for you, pushing you in with ease.

“I hope wine is alright,” he says, pouring some into your goblet. “I know the mead we had before didn’t agree with you.”

“Wine is wonderful,” you say, “And I don’t think it was the mead that made me sick.”

“What then?” he asks, sitting across from you.

“Feelings I was trying to fight,” you say.

“You don’t seem to be fighting them anymore."

“I don’t think it’s a battle I can win. Or even want to win," you say, taking a sip of the sweet wine.

“And you came to this realization while I was gone?” he asks, drinking from his own glass. Your eyes watch the movement along his neck greedily.

“Before you left, I said that you would ruin me, if we gave into this feeling between us.”

“I remember,” he says, setting his jaw. You reach across the small table and take his hand, your thumb brushing against his skin.

“But while you were gone, I realized you already had ruined me. Ruined every other man for me. You infiltrated my mind and my heart, Jace. If I can only have you for a day, I’ll take it, rather than live my life with regret.”

“It won’t be just a day," he says, gripping your hand firmly, his eyes wide with emotion.

“I hope so.”

“I am still talking with my mother. We will find a way to keep us together.”

“I believe you,” you say, “But I don’t want to talk about the future anymore, uncertain as it is. I just want to be here with you tonight.”

Fuck, he could stay like this forever: his hands wrapped around your waist, yours on his shoulders, your soft lips locked with his. The evening had progressed to a couch in his chambers – neither of you ready to move to the bed just yet.

He had wanted this for so long, had imagined it a hundred times over. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you wanting him just as much. Never did he believe you would love him, too. And never did he imagine that kissing you would feel this good.

Your hand cups his jaw, drawing him closer. Your chest presses against his. He wants to pull you in, wants your bodies to become one, but he reminds himself that this is just the first night. There will be more to come.

“Jace,” you say, breaking away to catch your breath. He is not so eager to break contact. His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you into his lap.

“Yes?” he says against your neck, his mouth traveling down the slender column. You breathe shakily, your body pressing into his when his tongue glides over the sensitive skin at your collarbone. He hums happily, exploring which parts make you press into him, which make you whimper.

“Jace,” you say again.

“Yes, Y/N?” he says, smiling against your molten skin.

“It’s getting late,” you say, whining when he bites softly, careful to not leave a mark. “I need to get back to my own chambers.”

“But there’s so much I’ve yet to explore,” he says, looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide, a sight that fills him with male satisfaction. He tastes your lips softly, in between smiles.

“Like what?” you ask. A wicked look passes over his face.

“Well,” he says, “Here.” He kisses the hinge of your jaw, relishing the arch of your back at his actions.

“Here.” He bites gently on your ear lobe.

“Jace,” you gasp.

“And I didn’t even get to these,” he says, his hand cupping your breast. “You have no idea how much I love these.”

Despite what you said, you kiss him again, falling back onto the couch as he continues to palm your breasts. His hands move down to your hips, gripping tightly, and holding you flush against him. But never any further than that.

You stay there for a long while. Each time you suggest that you need to leave, Jace manages to convince you to stay. Eventually though, you extract yourself from underneath him. For a moment, you just look at each other, the flushed skin, the clothes that hang awkwardly.

“I love you,” he says, smiling at you as you try to bring some semblance of order to your unruly hair. You look over at him, a soft smile on your own face.

“I’m glad for it,” you say. You stand, tugging at your dress, before presenting yourself to Jace. “How do I look?” you ask.

“Gorgeous,” he says, taking your hand, kissing up your arm.

“I mean,” you say with a laugh, pulling your arm from him, “Do I look presentable?” He stands and looks you over for a long moment, making you shake your head. He snakes his arm around your waist.

“You do,” he says, kissing your lips softly. Your arms wrap around him again, and for a second, he thinks he might convince you to stay. But you hum against his mouth and pull away. Your hand rests on his chest as you catch your breath.

“Stop doing that,” you say with a laugh.

“Doing what?”

“Making me want to stay.”

“Maybe,” he says, gripping your hips, pulling you against him. He knows you can feel how much he wants you, how much he has wanted you all night. “You should just stay.”

“It’s late,” you sigh.

“Another reason to stay.”

“Brigitta will be expecting me.”

“Maids are good at keeping secrets,” he says, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I love you,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him gently. It’s the millionth time you’ve kissed him today, but still, each time feels like the first. Like it’s air, like it’s a touch he's waited for his whole life. “I have to go.”

“Let me walk you to your chambers at least,” he says as you pull from his grasp. His hand reaches for yours and trails out of it as you keep moving.

“I think I can make it on my own.”

“It’s late, you never know who might be prowling around the castle.”

“All the more reason to keep you protected, Your Highness,” you say, back resting against his door. Jace smiles, the title now feeling like a joke between the two of you, instead of propriety.

“I really can’t convince you to stay, can I?” he asks. You shake your head at him, a small smile on your face. “Very well.” He makes to open the door, but his hand instead rests against it, the other wraps around your waist, bringing your lips to his again. You gasp into the kiss, the sound making Jace practically feral with need. He holds you for a long while before you put a hand to his chest, bringing you both back to the present moment.

“Goodnight, Jace,” you say.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, reluctantly opening the door for you. Ser Harrold is stationed there still, and Jace feels a modicum of shame that the knight probably heard the last bit of your conversation. You exchange a look with him, your cheeks red with embarrassment, and you both laugh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

“I look forward to it, My Prince.”

[blueskittlesart]

did u not like totk?

i LOVED totk. i think it was well-written and did its job as a sequel to botw very well. HOWEVER. i do think it suffered slightly from the commercial success of botw. as i mentioned in my last post, nintendo does this. thing. when one of their games gets popular where every game after it has to be Exactly The Same so they can make all the money in the world via comparison marketing. (and this is a problem with the wider game industry in general but also a very observable pattern in loz specifically.) I know it's been a pretty long time since botw came out, but before (and immediately following) its release there was some pushback from longtime fans who worried that the open-world and lack of traditional dungeons meant that the game had strayed too far from the classic formula that makes a game a "zelda game." this is to say, botw was EXPERIMENTAL. and the devs had no idea if what they were doing was going to be successful or not. the open-world of botw wasn't a gimmick, and it wasn't the devs jumping on the open-world bandwagon. it was what CREATED that bandwagon. the open-world was a deliberate choice made specifically for botw because it reinforced the story that botw was designed to tell. the game is about exploring a desolate world, about making connections, and rebuilding both the broken kingdom and the player character's shattered sense of self by traveling and learning and building relationships. a large open-world map with only minor quest guidelines and lots of collectibles and side quests lends itself perfectly to this specific story, which is specifically about exploration and rebirth.

the problem is, botw was. almost TOO good. it was so good that every other game company on the planet started scrambling to build giant open-world maps into their next release, regardless of how much sense that actually made narratively. and because of that, when it came time to release a sequel to botw, the devs had a lot to think about. they had HUGE shoes to fill in terms of fan reception, but they were ALSO being asked to follow up one of the best-performing games of all time, commercially. totk needed to SELL as well as botw. And, likely because nintendo was worried about that potential commercial value, totk needed to keep people comfortable. I don't know for certain, but I definitely get the feeling playing totk that the devs were specifically told not to stray too far from what made botw marketable and successful--that being the open world and the versatility of gameplay. so in order to follow that up, they made... 2 more huge open maps, and new gimmick gameplay which was explicitly super-versatile.

do i think that the extra maps and ultrahand were BAD choices? no. however, i don't think they necessarily ADDED anything to the game as a narrative whole. one of my favorite things about botw was how everything seemed to be designed AROUND the narrative, with gameplay elements slotting neatly into the story thematically. totk just. didn't really have that, imo. there wasn't a huge narrative benefit to the gigantic, completely unpopulated depths and sky maps. ultrahand was cool, but within the context of the story it meant basically nothing. in some ways, i almost think totk could have benefitted from a much more linear approach to its storytelling, a la skyward sword, because there are a lot of story beats that have to be found in chronological order in order to have the right emotional impact, but because of the nonlinear open-world it kind of became a struggle to hit all the important story points in the right order. an easy example of this is the dragon's tears in comparison to the memories--the dragon tears have a very specific set order in which they happen, and finding them out of order can make the story you're seeing in them feel confusing and disjointed. the order in which they should be found is technically displayed on the temple wall, but most players aren't going to pick up on that or follow it--more likely, they're just going to explore the geoglyphs as they come across them organically, and therefore will likely witness the story in a completely disjointed way. compare this to the botw memories, which ALSO technically have a set order--the order in which they're displayed on the sheikah slate. however, because they're largely just small moments in time, and not one continuous story, finding them out of order has a lot less of an impact on how you as the player experience the narrative, and it's not hugely detrimental to your experience of the story if you find them naturally as you explore rather than explicitly seeking them out in order. If TOTK had been allowed to deviate from the botw formula a bit, i think we may have ended up with a more cohesive game in terms of narrative beats like that. as it is, i just think the game is torn slightly between wanting to be its own new game with new gameplay and needing to be botw, if that makes sense.

[leaawrites]

I knew it, I know you

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: two people reflecting - and drowning in sorrow - on their lost almost.

Warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, nothing about this is really happy tbh

Masterlist

It had been 2 months. 2 months since all the pining and longing and dancing around each other finally found an end. It was the end of something that was never more than considering but still bigger than nothing. It was what happened when two broken souls found another one. Too afraid to heal and too hopeful to let it go before it could begin. They were always at the starting line never beginning to run. And when she did. She was left alone. He didn’t run with her. His eyes focusing on the win, planning strategies on what may be and what may be not. It was more than nothing but never enough.

Now she held herself at night, his face on her TV, far away. She was focusing on him, never stop cheering and praying to see him succeed. There was always something that made him crumble in the end. Whether it be the car or strategy, he blamed it on him. He had done it ever since she told him that it was his fault they could never work out. It was never the outside world or the misplaced bodies of theirs in time. It was him. He didn’t run, he planned.

Now he sat alone in his big apartment in this big city, filled with glamour and luxury and nothing but his own breathing. It was the purest thing he owned now, after losing what he never truly had. It was only one step he should’ve taken and he couldn’t bring himself too. Everything was shallow now, eating up his insides until no emotion but guilt was left. He hated that he let her go. He hated that he was afraid of real life like some kind of moron in a novel. The one who would end up all alone at some point.

The room was dark and stuffed with thoughts and hot air. The blanket on his bed was wrinkled and tossed around. He hadn’t even found the motivation to make his bed that morning. Going to races for the last 3 weeks was what made his mind walk away from her for a while, but now that it was over it was only him now.

The doorbell rang, making him open his eyes. Lando made his way towards the door, opening it to see Max standing on the other side with food in his hand. The man wore a sympathetic look on his face. He was the only person who knew about what happened. He was the only person who knew about her.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he said, holding up the food in hopes of making him smile at least a little bit. But there was nothing coming from Lando.

He only stepped away to let him in, walking to the coach to sit on it and turn on the TV. Some crappy Reality show was playing but Lando wasn’t paying any mind to it.

“How have you been?” Max asked, sitting down next to Lando, pushing the food in front of his face so he couldn’t ignore it.

Taking the fork in his hand, Lando started to move the Chinese dish around in it’s box. Watching it move like it would satisfy his hunger enough to not eat it.

“Wonderful,” he said quietly, sarcasm dripping from his tongue like water. “Though about throwing myself from the balcony.”

If it was anyone else, Lando wouldn’t have said it. But it was Max, his best friend since childhood. He knew about Lando’s mental health, he knew that it was horrible at times. Though it was never this far, at least not to his knowledge.

“Have you tried talking to her?” He wasn’t aware of what happened fully, but he knew enough to be sure that Lando could fix it. It only needed him to work. It only needed him to find itself again.

“She blocked me everywhere,” Lando only said, avoiding a clear answer of yes or no.

He had tried, multiple times. He even called her mother, but no one was willing to let him in again. They were hiding her away from his shining sword and he understood why. But he hated that they were that way. He hated that he was that way.

“Look, man,” Max started. P, his girlfriend, had told him to go back to the secret plan. “P has been keeping contact with her. She is really not happy about how things ended, but she misses you. She really does. So, if you’re willing to make it work this time - for real this time - I’ll give you her address and you can decide what to do with it.”

Lando looked at him with wide eyes, his heart leaping from his chest to hug his mate.

“You’re willing to do that?” Lando asked, sitting up straighter now and turning towards him.

“If you eat up,” Max joked, playing parent for him.

“But then?”

“If you don’t mess it up.”

[wayfayrr]

Sky being self aware had been plaguing my mind since I wrote this other piece where he confronts you about having played through his game, however while you could read this as a sequel it is written as something separate!

before the main thing though just gonna say, I don't actually support yandere behaviour in real life - I don't usually mention this because in my opinion it goes without saying, however since reader borders a little bit on being one in this I just wanted to make it clear!

[masterlist]

It’s been so long since I last played Skyward Sword, Really I think the last time I picked it up was at least a year ago now. I’d almost forgotten I actually had it on the switch, if it weren’t for me needing to do a clear out I might have never remembered that I had this. I’ve got some spare time right now so really there shouldn’t be an issue if I took a break to play for a while would there? In the worst case I’d get distracted for a bit, but it’s not like I can’t just carry on cleaning tomorrow. Setting up the game was easier than ever, not like setting up any switch game is particularly hard though. My old save was still waiting patiently, I could never bring myself to delete it even after getting a hundred percent. Perhaps it’s finally time to try out hero mode for the first time?

The opening cutscene is nice to watch again, even if I can’t help but feel bad for Link in it, seeing what it’s building up to. Huh? I could’ve sworn my controllers were working a second ago, they can’t have disconnected during the cutscene either, could they?

“[Name]? Dearest… you’ve finally come back…”

What.

It’s like I’ve just been plunged into ice water - I- I’m dreaming right? I have to be, there’s no way this could possibly be real. He’s a game character. Link can’t be speaking to me as if he’s a real person. He can’t be.

“Darling, You - you look so pale are you alright?”

Another step toward the screen, a head-tilt and clear concern on his face. More than possible. I knew it, this has to be a dream.

“Darling, I know that this is strange for you - don’t you think it’s strange for me as well? I mean - I know I’m not supposed to exist as I do. I’m only supposed to be a blank slate for you to play this game as not - not have my own feelings.”

A sharp inhale laced with the sounds of static reverberated throughout the room, with a far too alive sounding sniffle as he wiped his eyes and took yet another step closer. Even eerier was the laugh that followed when he made eye contact with me, something sad and wet sounding like he’s barely holding himself together. It sounds too real.

“It’s been so long I thought that you - I thought that you forgot me. That you weren’t going to come back. I hoped - no I knew - that you didn’t though and you didn’t! You came back to me my love and now I’m not going to let you out of my sight again. I know that it wasn’t your fault that you took so long, I - I mean you didn’t even know that I’m alive but I’m not going to risk it happening again.”

He’s right up against the screen now, staring at me as he presses his hand up against it, like he’s testing it. Gently testing as if he’s trying to see how much pressure the glass can take. If there’s any time best to wake up already it would be now. 

“I’ve been stuck in here alone for so long, if I didn’t have something to focus on I would have gone insane! Can you imagine that? If I didn’t have you to think about all that time I would have lost myself! I was made for you; I know you care about me as well. Please [name] I - I don’t know who I’m supposed to be any more, I’m not - not your character. I’m so much more than that empty husk.”

His hand pushes further on the glass as his fingers tense up, now like he’s preparing himself for something. Link, I’ve never seen him - any version of him in any version of the games acting even half as emotive as this. That proves that this is all a dream, he can’t be - this can’t be real. 

“There’s one other thing that being trapped in here for all this time has let me focus on I think I know how to get out now… If I press this just-”

A sickeningly twisted smile found its way onto his face with each shrill crack of the glass screen under his hand. The other moving up to join it as he pushed even harder, intending to shatter the barrier, he’s convinced himself is standing between us. My chest feels so tight right now, why am I so sore in a dream?  If I were awake I’d be convinced I was having a panic attack but - no- no I’m not awake.

“Right. Then - Well you can see can’t you dearest? If I carry on like this, there won’t be any-”

A loud wince as his hand shatters through the screen, the glass shards cutting through his skin effortlessly marring both him and the remaining screen with - with his blood. The laughter that followed the screen cutting to blank with his hand reaching through seemed to tighten the band that’s seemingly wrapped itself around my lungs making it harder still to breathe. How could I breathe when link - the link is dragging himself out of my tv. 

“Come on darling..? I know you feel the same way about me, I’ve heard you say it all. So please don’t just stand there looking terrified. You have no reason to be scared of me, I love you so much [name]. Can’t you see I’m doing this so that we can be together? I can’t wait to finally hold you in my arms.”

Frozen. That’s the only way I can describe how I’m feeling right now, my once-warm blood has turned to ice within my veins. He’s not stopping. His shirt that was once a pale beige is now stained with red patches, as his head and torso are out of the screen now. What was once a comforting face to see, one of my favourite characters is staring me down with a downright vicious grin while he is dripping with his own blood. Even beneath all of that though, there’s still something so tender, so scared about him, something is worrying him.

“Please darling you’re so pale, you don’t need to be scared - I promise you everything is going to be alright. [name] please just say something to me…”

Dark spots are starting to show in my vision now and… I’m not sure if this is a dream anymore. There are too many things adding up that don’t make any sense. But if it’s not that, I don’t…

“[NA]-”

><><><><

Did I pass out? I mean it really feels like I did, but I don’t feel like I hit anything. If I passed out when I was alone then I would’ve hit my head on something. Maybe I’m just waking up from that weird dream. Hopefully. Although that wouldn’t explain -

“You’re alright darling, I’m here. I’ve got you, you’re safe, you’re alright.”

Why I feel like someone’s holding me? 

“Oh dearest you’re finally awake… You - you scared me you know? I didn’t think I was going to be able to catch you, that you were going to get hurt. I’m so glad that I did though love.” It wasn’t a dream. That was Link’s voice, the same one as before. It’s link thats holding me in his arms. Link that’s nuzzling into my hair as he seems to be fighting off tears. That means… That means…

“...Everything was real..?  I - you - it…”

He’s holding me so gently like he’s scared of me disappearing. If what he said is true? I can’t hold  that against him with what he’s said, but even still. I can’t just stay in his arms pretending that him stroking my face with bloodstained hands isn’t bothering me. He’s so happy though and he isn’t hurting me really why don't I just - no I have to tell him that this is making me uncomfortable. 

“All of it, all of it was real [name] and I couldn’t be more glad that it is, because it means that I’m finally here with you.”

“Link…”

“Yes dear?”

… this is all real. I’m actually talking to him. He’s real. And he’s downright obsessed with me. 

“You - you’re still bleeding, you should deal with that and- and with everything.”

I’m not sure that was the right thing to say, but why shouldn’t I not accept him. This isn’t some stranger, it’s Link. One of my first fictional crushes, he’s probably heard the things I’ve said about him; since I’ve said in the past if I got a chance like this that I would take it… why not see where this goes? He looks adorable like this, hopefully, if he stays like this long enough I’ll be able to get the image of him crawling through my tv out of my mind. 

“I - you’re worried about me, love? I - I knew that you’re my soulmate, oh my dear. You're so beyond perfect.”

“We should go get you some bandages Link. I know you’re not quite used to everything yet so I wouldn’t want you to get an infection immediately.”

Yeah, I’m not going to let this chance slip. He’s so much nicer in person, why should I throw this away? He’s perfect and now?

He’s mine.

[green-eyedfirework]

Bruce is out of town, Tim’s with the Titans, and Gotham belongs to Nightwing for the night. He soars through familiar skies, breathes the familiar smog, and fights the all-too familiar foes.

It would be Ivy, on a night when there’s no one back at the Manor, no one to help him through the burning cold stealing over him. He pushes it down, manages to restrain Ivy, sees her taken away, and gets up to an isolated rooftop.

Icy prickles are flooding across his skin, an ache settling into his core, and his body is trembling. He should get to his motorcycle, or call the car, but—he collapses to his knees on the privacy of the rooftop, just for a moment. He’s done for the night, and no one is waiting for him, so he can just—take a moment. Breathe in through the pain, through the longing, a physical manifestation of an emotional need. Convince himself he can get through this alone.

When there’s a soft impact on the far side of the roof, he flings his head up, suddenly aware of the tears forming beneath the mask.

Orange and black, giant sword, mask with one eye.

Deathstroke.

Of fucking course. What else would make this night more perfect?

Slade is studying him, silently, and Dick should absolutely get off his knees, should stand up and make a quip. He can’t afford to be weak.  Not in front of Deathstroke.  He wills himself to stand as another tremor goes through him, but his body won’t respond.

The last time he saw Slade, Dick told him they were through; he couldn’t keep sleeping with someone who was willing to kill innocent people for money. Dick hated himself every time they were done, the afterglow ruined by the inescapable knowledge of who exactly he’d just let fuck him. Slade didn’t argue, didn’t try to defend himself, just steadily watched as Dick gathered up his things and left. 

Dick hasn’t seen him since, not in six months, not until tonight. And now he’s here, while Dick is almost helpless. The wanting is—it’s consuming him, filling him with agony, and—

“Why are you here?” Dick bites out, wishing like hell he could get to his feet and make a show of strength, but keeping his voice almost-level takes every last bit of effort he has left.

“Finished a contract,” Slade says, and Dick closes his eyes for a heartbeat, because he knows that means someone died. While he was playing with Ivy, Deathstroke came into Gotham and someone died and—“Heard about your fight with Ivy.”

Heard about? Or engineered. A chill goes down his spine, dread settling into his stomach, distinct from the searing cold of the pollen. It’s not a coincidence that Deathstroke’s in Gotham when its usual protectors are away. This is the first time Dick has been isolated since he told Slade they couldn’t sleep together anymore.

“I handled it,” Dick says, as though it finishes the conversation, as though he isn’t suddenly aware that Slade is likely here to extract some kind of vengeance for Dick daring to judge him. And it’s not that Dick ever thought Slade was a good person, but he trusted Slade enough to be vulnerable with him, to be intimate and almost-soft, and—and he’s acutely aware that that trust is absolutely shattered. That Dick shattered that trust, and Slade has no reason to be merciful.

“Did you handle it?” Slade asks softly, and takes a step towards him. A spasm of longing, terrifyingly intense, goes through Dick, and he can’t stop the shudder.

If Slade gets near him—Dick can already feel how the heat from his body would drive away the cold, how the cessation of pain would be addictively sweet, how being close to another person would soothe the emotional void, and he can’t—this is Deathstroke, not his father or brother, not a teammate he can be vulnerable with. 

“Yes,” Dick says, but his voice cracks and he shudders again. He’s abruptly aware he can’t get back to the Cave, unable to fight through this longing, this need, this exquisite desire-slash-pain, and he needs Slade to leave before Dick can’t fight anymore.

He trusted Slade before with his wants, but soothing the relentless, agonizing cold has become a need and while a rejection of a sexual escapade would have been easily shrugged off—if Dick dares to ask for help with this, and gets rejected—

And why wouldn’t Slade refuse to help him, unless Dick was willing to rekindle their old relationship. 

It’s getting harder to think clearly, and Dick isn’t sure if it’s a higher dosage, or a new strain, or he’s just never gotten hit without a teammate, but it hurts, fuck, it hurts more than he can remember, and it’s all he can think about.

When Slade takes a step towards him, another spasm of longing runs through Dick and he spits out, “Stay away!”  It’s hopeless, Slade won’t stop, doesn’t care, made sure Dick would eventually want this but, he can’t stop trying.

Slade does stop, on the other side of the rooftop, silently watching again.  Dick closes his eyes behind his mask, needles sinking into his skin, one after another, each one a firebrand, and ice spreads further and further with every breath.  The tips of his fingers have already gone numb.  But he’s facing Slade, facing Deathstroke, only it’s not really facing him when Dick is trembling on his knees, looking up at someone who has a hundred reasons to want to hurt him.

“You don’t look too good, kid,” Slade says, and Dick would laugh, if doing so wouldn’t shatter him.  He wishes he were going fully numb, but instead he has painful tingling throughout his body, rising and falling agony he can’t seem to push away, and his entire being is focused on the  only way to get rid of this pain, standing on the other side of this rooftop.

“Go away,” Dick says, voice hoarse, desperately trying not to give Slade what he wants.  All Dick wants is the warmth of another person, but Slade was never a cuddler on the best of days, and he’s not going to do so now, not without something in it for him.  Getting Dick hit with pollen was a brilliant way to let Slade pretend at consent.

And Slade just stands there, a beacon of warmth, relaxation, a siren call to the absence of this searing, oversensitive agony, just a short walk away—but Dick can’t walk.  He’s wavering on his knees, hands curled into fists on his side, and if he just leans—but he can’t fall further, he can’t.

This is Deathstroke the Terminator.  Dick can’t rely on his goodwill, or trust him, or even let him—this man has more blood on his hands than any human alive, and the only reason he deigns to let Dick live is because Dick has pleased him in the past.

And Dick isn’t, he isn’t willing to give in, offer himself up again, not even for the promise of warmth and relief of the burning cold.

Slade isn’t leaving, but also isn’t saying anything, just standing there.  Dick cannot see his expression behind the mask, and every breath is an eternity of loneliness yawning wide, ice stabbing deeper and deeper, sharp and burning, and Dick—

“Leave,” Dick tries one last time, his voice almost cracking, but—but it’s too late.  His desperation is evident, there’s no way Slade’s leaving now.  Dick curls his fists against loose gravel, trying to find some kind of anchor, but tiny rocks shift in his grip, and there’s nothing to hold.  Nothing to clutch against the deep, slicing agony in his soul.

He’s alone.  He’s so, so alone—the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground, a grieving, furious growl—he’s alone, he’s alone and he can’t bear it, he’s curling up and screaming without a sound because no human being was ever intended to live like this, like loneliness is a physical sensation that’s crushing him under its weight.

He moves.  Forward, though he hates himself, though he tries with all his might to stop it.  Forward, in the direction Slade is, in the direction warmth is, knowing exactly what it will mean for him.  Every fiber of his body is screaming at him to move faster and his mind is shrieking at him to stop, now, stop.

Dick thinks he can hear Slade saying something, but it’s just ringing, fading in and out, and he only stops when he sees boots in his blurred vision.  He can’t get off the ground, can’t even try, and he nearly collapses back as he cranes his neck to look up at the smear of orange and black.

He’s gasping for breath, heavy and shallow, his skin feels like it’s being peeled off in sections, there is ice at the very center of his being, and he will do anything to feel warm.

He raises a violently shaking hand, and manages to get it high enough to land on Slade’s thigh, curling against his belt.

Slade shifts, like he’s going to step back, and Dick leans forward to half-collapse against his leg, forcing out a desperate, “Please.”

Even that touch, through several layers of kevlar, feels like brushes of flames, and Dick has no energy left.  He’s trembling like he’s been dunked into Gotham Bay in the middle of January, and if Slade walks away, Dick won’t be able to lift his head, much less get off the roof.

He should’ve gotten back to the Cave immediately, no other pollen has hit this fast and this hard, and Slade can surely see the tears on his face now.  Dick squeezes his eyes shut and waits.

He wants—he needs to be closer, but he doesn’t have the strength, a five year old could break the weak grip he has on Slade’s belt.  Slade moves, and there’s more ringing, the world tilting oddly around him, and it takes him way too long to realize that Slade’s crouched down, the orange-and-black mask at eye level.

The hands on his shoulders feel like firebrands, and Dick can’t stop himself from leaning in.

“Kid,” Slade says, his tone flat like it’s not the first time he’s said it.  “You need to call the Bats.”  Dick almost wants to laugh, because does Slade think he would be shivering alone on this rooftop, at Slade’s mercy, if his family was in Gotham?  “I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

One part of Dick quails.  The other part rejoices, because if Slade lifts his hands, Dick will start screaming.

“They’re n-not in t-town,” Dick admits, shivering.  Slade curses.  Dick is torn between begging Slade to stay and pleading for him to leave.

If Slade leaves, Dick will drown in agonizing loneliness, wracked by oversensitivity and a burning chill.

If Slade stays, Dick is at the mercy of the world’s deadliest mercenary, helpless and vulnerable.

Slade solves this dilemma by straightening, and yanking Dick up with him.  Dick gasps at the dull blast of heat as Slade hoists him up, holding him in place with one arm around his waist before Dick does his job for him and practically plasters himself to Slade, locking his arms around Slade’s neck and hugging him like Dick is a koala.

The stinging is paradoxically worse and better—like the ice needles are melting, but slowly.  The heat isn’t quite enough, not with the Nightwing suit and Deathstroke armor in the way, but Dick can’t let go, it feels like his arms have been glued in place as he tucks his face next to the mask.

“Where’s your closest safehouse?” Slade asks, and Dick doesn’t even hesitate before answering.

Something in the back of his mind is shrieking.  Is begging to take over to stop him, to stop this—but the pollen has firm control, a torture designed specifically to attack Dick.

He can’t let go of Slade.

He’ll do anything for Slade to not let go of him.

And dread sits heavy in his stomach.

[orchideous-nox]

Fanfic recommendation query: Are you a good person to ask for a Rosekiller recommendation? Under 50k words, and complete? (if the answer is yes, could you tag the recommendation as... rosekiller trial?) I've never read a thing about them, and I'm interested in some good characterisations. I have a good shape of Barty in my head, but...

Absolutely! I have a few I've written myself in my masterlist but I love recommending other people's fics too so here's some that meet your criteria from ao3 (there are many more I could include that are either longer or incomplete so if you ever want more let me know!) I also have no idea if you are a minor...if you are then this is not the blog for you, I'm so sorry. This is 80% smut but the characterisation is still there.

my way or the highway by heartnipnops // nsfw // 6.1k words

While going on a road trip to visit Evan's sister, Evan learns just how much of a menace Barty can be when bored in a car. Luckily Evan spots an exit leading to a gas station with a bathroom not long after, allowing him the opportunity to teach his brat of a boyfriend a lesson.

sharpshooter by heartnipnops // nsfw // 4.7k words

After spending far too long unable to, due to Evan's strict rules during exam season, Barty finally gives Evan a rather sloppy and messy blowjob in the nearest bathroom after Evan's last oral exam. Barty's take on an oral exam turns out to be quite a bit more pleasant than what Evan had to deal with.

Closing Hours by MajorToast // nsfw // 3.8k words

A minimum wage job – one of the supporting pillars of consumer behaviour… and Evan’s personal hell. But – oh well – that’s what you’re getting for chasing the thrill rather than logic, or – in other words – sell crack to children. It’s a last-ditch effort for him to turn his life around, abandon his wicked ways. And it would have worked – hadn’t it been for his utterly stupid (and unfairly handsome) coworker, Bartemius Crouch Jnr.

Game On by MajorToast // nsfw // 4.9k words

To win Evan over, Barty needs to win the 2023 League of Legends Championship. A dare, that not only ends with a lesson learned, but also the fuck of Barty’s life. Two can play that game.

Love You Better by star4daisy // sfw // 11k words

the one where Barty and Evan try to love each other better in entirely different ways

Barty Crouch Jr. and The Terrible Inconvenience of Having a Fit Best Friend by localwolfgoesawooo // nsfw // 8.1k words

Barty is an emotionally repressed, oblivious prat, who thinks his best friend is the most gorgeous person in the world - in a strictly platonic way, of course. When a bloke Barty deems unworthy chats up Evan - makes him laugh - Barty inserts himself into their conversation. You know, since he’s such a good friend.

stoned off you (now i'm stone cold sober) by 214lilacsky // nsfw // 30.5k words

Barty Crouch Jr. is pretty sure he could go his whole life without finding love. Who needs it? He has Regulus, Dorcas, Pandora. He has a steady job, even if it is boring as fuck. He finally has a body he can stand looking at in the mirror.

One thing he absolutely cannot go without is consistent and reliable access to weed.

Enter: Barty's new dealer, Evan Rosier aka Rosie, aka the man who has got Barty down bad.

a double-edged sword by faun_writes_things // nsfw // 6.9k words

a double-edged sword (idiom); a situation with an equally good or bad outcome.

ex; barty hitting on the new next-door neighbor, who may or may not hate his guts.

Under A Spell, You're Hypnotized by spoonstars // nsfw // 3.5k words

Barty really wants to know how a dick piercing feels, so him and Evan brew polyjuice so he can find out.

Ant Pile by sommerregenjuniluft // nsfw // 21.3k words

This is a story about two boys raised by the sun.

Florida heat, being a teenager, best friends and how falling in love works when you've already loved them for as long as you can remember.

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 05: Stamp

fordola receives a letter. fordola x female warrior of light. stormblood patches. written for ffxivwrites2024. rating: teen (some adult language) 1945 words ao3 link

By the time she reaches the battlements her side is cramping painfully.

She flew up the stairs two at a time, desperately to reach a place—any place—where she could find some damn privacy. The battlements are not ideal, but she will take anything at this point. Panting, she pushes damp hair from her forehead and her back against the parapet, eager to read. The parchment scrapes against her palm, rough and coarse, creases fanning out from where she has gripped it too hard. Her hands tremble, the dizzying rush of excitement-laced fear going straight to her head.

There is only one person in the world who would think of writing to her.

She can’t imagine what words lie on the page. She wants to know. She hates how badly she wants to know.

“What’s this, then? The traitor loosed from her cage?”

Fuck. Fordola flushes red—anger, annoyance, irritation—and her body tenses, battle senses spiking as the familiar tread of city watch boots pound against the cobblestones. Fine hairs rise on the back of her neck. She despises hearing the slow, metallic tremor of heavy armour. Lord Zenos—(Zenos, you idiot, he’s lord to you no more)—was recognizable from fulms away by the heftiness of his gait. None can compare to him, but she hates it all the same.

Swallowing hard, Fordola lowers the letter and turns around. “It’s no cage to me any longer,” she says firmly, eyes narrowed as she looks her prospective tormentors up and down. There’s three of them—Ala Mhigan youths, tall and strong, with the look of those born and bred on the outskirts of the Fringes. Younger than her. How long has it been since they picked up a blade? “Perhaps that news hasn’t reached your ears yet.”

The first—a red-headed boy, large and broad-shouldered, more bluster than bite—takes a step towards her, a hand on his sword hilt. He is looking for a fight. She understands. Tensions run high in the city, war is on their doorstep, the senior Scions have fallen one by one to some mysterious illness, the Alliance is doing fuck-all as far as she is concerned, and Zenos himself has been spotted on the battlefield. It is an uneasy time. More than uneasy.   

And uneasy times mean that fools need to let off steam.

“Or the ‘news’ is a lie,” the boy drawls, dark eyes sweeping over her. There’s a bit of Hrudolf in him, something about the jaw. All of his fervor, none of the kindness. She has forgotten a time when they were kind. “You would say anything to keep from being thrown back in your cell.”

His comrades chitter in agreement. The second—a girl, her shaggy black hair obscuring half her face—snorts, a grin spreading across her lips. Emelin used to laugh like that. Though had there been malice like that in hers? Perhaps. Emelin was often quiet, save for her laugh.

“Then maybe your ears aren’t working,” Fordola says, cocking her head to size up the third and last of these fools. Her collar pinches her skin, its weight pressing heavily into her throat. “Take it up with Raubahn.”

The third hocks back and spits on the ground—a mediocre attempt, as it gets stuck half-way and dribbles out of him like sludge. He is younger than the others, his naïve face round and brown and far too fresh for this bullshit. She shudders as if stabbed in the gut. Ansfrid was once like him, before his growth spurt.

“Raubahn?” The first chortles. “As if you’d be on speaking terms with the General—”

“I’m on speaking terms with the General and several others. Play nice, and I may just get you a letter of introduction to the Lord Commander of Ishgard himself or the Prince of Doma.”

He growls. “You see that, lads?” he says, calling over his shoulder. “Lying straight to our faces like the little scheming rat she is. Never trust a silver-tongued serpent when she wants something.”

She sneers. The safe choice would be to back down, to let these mooks do as they please, insult and berate her until they have had their fill and leave her be. But her mouth is already twisting to form words desperate to burst out of her, and it’s too late to stop herself. “Aye. Good instincts, boy. Good thing for you I’ve never been a silver-tongued anything in my life.”

His expression darkens. “Don’t insult me, bitch.”

“Ha! If you think that was an insult, your disposition is as delicate as a noblewoman’s knickers. I haven’t insulted you yet, boy.”

“Stop calling me boy.”

“How old were you when the Garleans came?” she growls, her voice dropping dangerously low. Parchment crinkles in her ears, her fingers slowly crushing the letter in her fist. “Old enough to remember? Yes or no?”

“I—”

“Easy question with an easy answer. Yes or no?”

His jaw shuts closed.

“You don’t remember,” she snarls, taking a step towards him. “Then a boy you are.”

His eyes flash.

She smirks, muscles tensed, ready to react, ready to counter. She may have been out of active duty for some time now, but her instincts are honed by years of military service to Garlemald. There are some things the body never forgets.

The blow never comes.

The boy moves with surprising speed and tears the letter from her hand, is edge slicing a line of bright red across her palm. Fordola gasps and stumbled back, rasping as if she was struck in the chest and all the air knocked from her lungs. Her stomach twists into knots, her heart hammering in her chest. She would have been happy if he had struck her. She wanted him to struck her. Give her an excuse to blow off steam; she would be punished for it, but if it was provoked Raubahn would understand. But this…?

This strikes deep.

“Give it back,” she snarls.

He grins, pleased with himself. “What’s this, then?” he crows, raising it in the air. “Whose been writing to the Butcher?”

“Give it back—”  

“Rhalgr’s tits, can she even read?”

A muffled scream presses against her lips and she darts forward, reaching for the letter, blood dripping down her fingers. The boy skips back, the letter high out of her reach. She hisses, eyes dark, throat raw, tracking the letter as he throws an arm out over the battlements. Behind him, his companions watch, chortling with glee.

“Don’t—”

He opens his fist.

The letter sails away on a puff of wind, tumbling through the air like an autumn leaf.

“Isn’t it nice that traitors like you get to walk the battlements?” the boy says, flashing her a toothy grin. “Have a good day, Butcher.”

Fordola does not hear him. Nor does she register as the trio tromp away, laughing at their success. She presses herself to the parapet, staring blankly into at the spot where the letter disappeared. Below, the red-brown hills stretch out forever, blurring in her eyes. It can’t have gone far, can it? Surely it would have fallen to the bottom of the walls. Surely she can find it again. How difficult must it be to find a letter in the dirt and dust and sparse grasses?

She pushes off the wall and runs, cantering down the stairs at such a speed she nearly falls. Her name echoes in her ears—the traitor, the Butcher, Lupis if she’s lucky, never Fordola—shouted by startled guards or shocked onlookers. She doesn’t care. She has to find the letter. She must.

Aureia wrote to her. Damnable woman. She wrote. She thought she wouldn’t. When she last left Ala Mhigo, Fordola was certain she would never hear or see from her again. They shared much. Too much. She said too much, revealed too much, her deepest, darkest secrets she couldn’t voice even to her closest friends, and in the privacy of a cell left forgotten, she was an open book. A moment of vulnerability that made Fordola a liability.

For a time, she could have ended the Warrior of Light with a word—if anyone chose to believe her. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t dare—not out of fear of punishment, but because she cared. Gods damn it, she cared so much. She still does. And the thought of her—the cutting wit, the blazing eyes, the biting tongue, all the sharp edges that couldn’t be shaved and sanded down and made palatable for Ishgardian sensibilities—makes her ache. She is stamped on her heart as surely as the visions of her past are etched in her memory.

Gods, she misses her. That damnable, damnable woman.

A soldier steps in front of her, the city gates rising high behind him. “I’m sorry, mistress,” he says politely, a far cry from the others. His voice is tinged with an Ul’dahn accent. He must be one of Raubahn’s. “I cannot allow you to pass without permission.”

Her lip curls. “I need to get outside the walls.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s only for a moment!”

“Mistress, I’m sorry, there is nothing I can do! Or do you wish to risk that choker’s effects?”

Fordola’s eyes widen. For a moment, she had forgotten the thing around her neck. She brushes it with her fingertips, staining the metal with blood.

The soldier sighs heavily. “Mistress, you’re injured—”

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “Thanks for nothing, you useless piece of shit.”

Shaking with anger and trembling with loss, she stalks back through the streets, heedless of the whispers and stares that follow her wherever she goes.

Beyond the walls, the letter drifts lazily through grasses and rocks, pushed to and fro on the breeze. It slips by unnoticed, a simple piece of parchment invisible to those who pass by. It will travel some distance, trampled and torn beneath the footsteps of a dozen creatures before sinking below the shoreline of Loch Seld and crumble into nothing.

As its inks bleed into the saline waters, its words voice their last to silence.

Fordola,    I don’t know what to say other than you should hear it from me. I am leaving. For a time. I can’t say where I am going or why, but it is not a place known to most. I am going to find answers. I hope I can find them, though I suspect I will find more questions in their stead. In a way, I am running from my problems, as I always do. Running from my family. Running from Garlemald. Be disappointed in me for that, it is more than fair. If I were a better person, I would have figured this out by now but for as long as I am here on this world, I am as stuck as I was the last time I saw you. I suppose that makes both of us trapped in our own ways.   (I’ve told Raubahn a hundred times to remove that wretched thing. I will tell him a hundred more. If it is not gone by the time I am back, I will tear down the Royal Menagerie with my bare hands to prove a point.) I wanted to say I’m sorry, for leaving things as they are. For leaving you with this… If this were a romance chapbook this is the part where I would say “don’t fall in love with me”… I must move on. Thank you. For bringing me clarity at a time when I very much needed it. I don’t think anyone else could. Aureia P.S. Keep an eye on Arenvald for me. 

[bokettochild]

For the febuwhump prompts, how about Mask and Captain Link with either hostage situation or "you weren't supposed to be there"?

Since the whole "hostage situation" got requested by someone else as well, I ended up going for the other option!

And hey, we're a month late, but I'm working two jobs so I think it should be fine LOL

Anyways, here, have some Captain Link freaking out about Mask's safety!

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1,610 (Mask cuts my word counts in half LOL)

Summary: Caught in a battle with the tides against them, Captain Link elects to use some slightly less than honorable methods to down their monster enemies. Mask isn't told about the plan though, but maybe he should have been...

-

  War isn’t pretty.  Sacrifices are something that often must be made, most commonly in the forms of life, of soldiers, but sometimes at a cost to the land, to cities, to integrity and honor. Winning isn’t easy, and it’s rare an enemy will play by the rules, so there’s rarely any point in doing so yourself either. That doesn’t make Link feel any better about his decision, but it’s the truth. He can’t play fair against demons if he wants to win. 

  “The bombs are placed sir.” A soldier announces, throwing a quick salute, one that he nods to acknowledge. 

  Behind him, the battle still rages, but Impa had demanded he fall back long enough to at least have his own wounds bound before charging back into the fray. In that time, he’s laid some quick plans, and while the idea of causing the very ground to collapse beneath the feet of the enemy camp isn’t something he’s proud of, he has high expectations that it will turn the tides in their favor. 

  That’s what matters, in the long run. Stopping the enemy, no matter how, and getting his own people out of here alive. Even so, he doesn’t like it. He’d hate to have such a tactic used on his people, and he knows the hylian army would call it dirty and lowdown of the enemy to do the same. Still, the odds are far from in their favor, and he’s got to level the playing field somehow. Leveling the actual field of battle by collapsing the ground beneath their camp, behind their defenses, is the best chance he’s got. 

  “Set to blast?” 

  “Five minutes, sir.” 

  He wishes he had a clock on him, or some sort of watch or other time keeping device, but he doesn’t, and he can’t. He’s got enough gear to mind, and the ever-present tick of a clock would only serve to drive him mad in the long run. 

  He waves off the thought and turns his attention back to the battle, although one part of his mind stays focused on the field medic binding his wounds. Potions are running low, and until they can stop long enough to acquire ore from Ravio, they need to save what they have for the more serious injuries, or those near death. Using a potion on himself when he’s only been stabbed a couple times is pointless. Still, he doesn’t trust medics as a rule, so letting them work without waiting for the inevitable “mistake” won’t stand. 

  He only breathes freely when the medic leaves, and he’s free to reach for the Master Sword again and return to battle. Even then though, his breathing isn’t as steady as he’s like, what with the bruised ribs and all. 

  “Countdown?” He asks his lieutenant. 

  “Two minutes.” 

  They have only a little longer to wait until the ground collapses, and his own people are too far ack to be affected, still tackling the front lines of the enemy, not the archers and far larger beasts that throw heavy clods of earth and explosives down amid them. 

  Two minutes. Then the assault will stop, and his people can sweep in and finish this mission. Two minutes and the monsters they’re fighting won’t have backup or cover fire to aid them, and the hylian forces can overtake at long last.  

  He scans the field briefly. He’s not heading back in, not yet. The men don’t know the cliffs will be going down, and they’ll need direction when they do. They’ll need instruction, and he’ll be the one to provide it when that happens, coming back down amid them to offer guidance and direction. First though, he needs to ensure that all goes as intended, and be prepared on the chance that it doesn’t for one reason or another. 

  “One minute sir.” His lieutenant pants. They’re both tired, they've been fighting for hours without rest and all of them are flagging.  

  “Hold in there, lieutenant,” he tries to assure. “We’ll have them.” A charming smile, one Impa had made sure was trained into him, weas ready to unleash, was something to settle and strengthen and give hope, a confident look and glitter of the eyes, seems to settle the man at his side. 

  “Aye, captain.” A weak attempt at a smile answers his own bright one. “We- sir!” Dark eyes widen in horror as they fix behind him on the enemy, and Link turns through force of habit to catch sight of the foe, the change of the tides, the danger that no doubt lies behind him. “Mask!” 

  It takes a second, but then he sees it. A little flicker of yellow against the sea of silver and red. A little kitsune mask bobbing at the hip of a child who’s charging, alone, blade charged with magic and felling monsters with ease born of experience, uphill. Uphill into the blast zone. Uphill towards the camp and leading some of their soldiers, although the men are harder pressed to follow his lead in slipping through the enemy lines, no matter how hard they try. Uphill into where only seconds remain before bombs take out the land and level the camp, leaving nothing but rubble behind. 

  His feet are moving before his mind has time to catch up to him, a shout on his lips and panic making his heart race. 

  “Sir!” His lieutenant’s voice raises, but the rest in lost in the sounds of a blast that has a rumble filling the air around them, screams of the enemy rising beside the sounds of tumbling earth, crumbling and cracking rock, and flames that last only as long as the explosion before being smothered with the falling rubble. 

  A gust of smoke and cloud of dirt arises, blowing back against them, blinding all, even the enemy, temporarily and giving his men time to strike out blindly at where their foes last were even while the beasts startle and pause with sight lost. “Press forwards! Hold the line!” He manages to shout, gathering his own wits enough to supply commands to his men, commands that echo back as officers repeat the orders to their men, a chorus that echos even as he moves with them. 

  There’s no trace of yellow up ahead, not in the rubble of what’s left, but he moves along anyways. He strikes the fallen foes that still sow signs of life, be it in flailing limbs or shrieking from piglike snouts. Blood paints the path he takes, but his gaze searches for bright and sunny yellow, something innocent and warm against the battlefield around them.  

  Cries, shouts, screams and the clashing of blades fills his ears, drowns out any shout he calls out into the rubble, but the tide of the battle is changing he can hear his men’s voices rising, hear the hope as they push their way past, felling their foe now that bombs and arrows don’t rain down from overhead upon them to make them fall back again and again. His mind isn’t on their victory though. There's a part of him, a part that knows he must remain focused, set, poised, ready, aware; something that tracks where they stand and how they fare, but another part searches. 

  The monsters fall in waves. The beasts within the rubble give their final cries as his blade ends their miserable lives. His men begin to shout their victory as the sounds of blades clashing dims, fades entirely, but their captain does not celebrate beside them. 

  He is searching. With the enemy felled he can drop his sword, drop to his knees to push aside rubble, dirt, stone, anything that’s left of the tumbled apart camp. 

  Proxi whizzes about; searching, calling. His voice rises beside hers. “Mask! Kid, come on!” 

  There’s no returning call. 

 “Please!” 

  Behind him, there’s murmuring. Shouts fade, feet fall. There’s a rush of booted steps and then hands are helping to lift away the rubble. Voices of every sort rise to call out, their cries all the same. “Mask! Where are you, kid?” Searching for a flicker of yellow, a head of yellow hair or a familiar smiling mask. Searching for a smirking face, a little troublemaker. 

  The fairies dart, the men sift, the cries of all sound over the field in the absence of a monster’s squeals. The joy of victory fades as they look for a single soul caught in the winning blow. Caught where he was never meant to be, at the worst of times for him to have slipped loose from amidst them. 

  It feels like forever, the moving of ruble, the sifting, the calling. Each second is torture, heart pounding fit to burst in his throat as he tears through the remains of the enemy camp. Not here, not there. Not amid the monsters but not far away. He’s frantic, pushing aside burdens that, in his right mind, he’d ever dare attempt to move alone. The singing of pain through his frame, through every muscle and bone, is ignored as he tears through, searching, searching, searching- 

  “Captain Link!” 

  Yellow, paint chipped and steaked with dirt and blood. Yellow matted and filthy strands, the face beneath just as stained. He doesn’t care though. He’s gathering up the tiny form in his arms and holding, clinging, fingers searching for a pulse even as his own reaches speeds he didn’t know possible. 

  The faint little beat beneath his fingertips is enough to have a sob escaping past the heart in his throat. 

  His kid is alive. He’s alive, he’s going to be okay. Link clings tightly, holding the boy close. He’s alive. Thank Hylia, he’s alive. 

[allkordelia]

Keep Me in Your Thoughts (9)

A/N: I hope yall enjoy because I sure did, the next chapter will be posted hopefully soon after this one. 😊

Word Count: 6.0k

❧

I watch from my seat as the king and his wife parade their son around to the lords and ladies of the court, the way the king smiled as he held his son in his arms stirred nothing in me and why should it?

I look away for a moment to see my curly red haired friend coming up to me with a bored look.

"Baelor!" Whined Marra, "I'm bored let's go play," she said as she held the leather-around ball that was filled with feathers and fur in her hands, I didn't look at her when I told her in a minute, I heard her huff and plump down next to on the bench.

"The more you stare the more annoyed you gonna get..." she said.

I ignored her. There was no reason to be annoyed, it was not like I was jealous of my little brother. On the contrary, I was happy when I was told that Alicent gave birth to a boy, it meant that I had someone to spend my time with during my stays at king's landing.

I cast my eyes away when I caught the king's gaze, his eyes wrinkled when his lips turned upwards smiling at me. I look at the ball in Marra's hands before smacking it from her gripe, so it can fall to the ground.

"I'm the kicker," I stated before I kick the ball over to the two trees that stood five feet apart, the ball bounced against the left tree before rolling off into the woods. I hurried over to get it as Marra whined about me cheating as she ran after me.

"Hey! Don't venture too far now." Valaena's voice ranged loud making us stop by the trees before calling out.

"We won't!" We ran off into the forest to find the ball and hopefully my sword and shield.

❧

Rhaelle poked her head out of the large tent to see her daughter after hearing her call out to baelor and marra, "Hey," she caught her daughter's attention making the young woman turn to her.

"Did they leave yet?" She whispered making her daughter roll her eyes as rhaelle stepped further out looking around.

"Yes, the King and the Queen are gone, mother." Rhaelle hummed as she walk over to her child.

"Where's your brother?" She asked looking around again for the young boy.

"He and Marra went off." Rhaelle frowned before stepping ahead of her daughter looking for her son's shield and sword.

"...without Ser Kegan and Ser Rewan." She looks back to her daughter.

"They're getting dinner and wood, and knowing them they will be back pretty soon, so you need to get the knives out." She commands before moving to get her knitted shawl from the bench table and folding it.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Rhaelle asked watching her daughter move in the direction of the king and queen's tent.

"Dropping off a small gift, don't worry. I won't stay long." She said before walking away, rhaelle frowned and looked around.

"Where the fuck are my guards." She said to herself as she walked back inside to ask the others.

Valaena held the folded shawl against her abdomen as she walked in the direction of her sister's tent, she stop for a second as the guards stepped aside to let her in making her smile at them before slowly walking inside. Her eyes wandered around the tent for her eldest sister, she turn to chew on her bottom lip as she walks around.

"Valaena?" She turned when her name was being called and saw rhaenyra standing off to the side away from everyone, the targaryen princess smiled wide before engulfing valaena in a hug.

It had been years since she has last seen rhaenyra, and she is surprised that the princess was even happy to see her since what happened between rhaenyra's father and her mother.

"Rhaenyra. It's been so long, how have you been?" She pulled away to look at the princess in front of her, rhaenyra shrug her shoulder slightly with a small smile.

"I have been well, how about you, you've grown so much. I can't believe just four summers ago, you and I used to braid each other's hair and sneak orange tarts from the kitchen at night." Valaena covered her cheek with her free hand at the memory, she forgot about that has it been so long that she has forgotten all about it?

"Oh gosh, remember what septa celia did when she found us." Both girls held each other's hands as they giggled at the old woman who used to teach them.

"How can I not? I still have that stupid song still in my head..." valaena tried to stifle a laugh as rhaenyra sang the song, valaena finished the last lyrics with rhaenyra before they both laughed again.

"Oh, my...she was horrid," Valaena commented.

"She is still horrid, I was told that once aegon is older. She will be his septa." Rhaenyra giggled making valaena shook her head.

"My poor nephew. May the gods have mercy." Rhaenyra giggled again before taking Valaena's free arm and leading her around as they talk more.

Valaena nods as rhaenyra tells her of the tour that she will be taking soon to find a husband, she understands the feeling that rhaenyra is going through in finding a husband, and she too is worried about the type of man she will be marrying once her mother decides when the time is right for her to do so. Which in valaena's mind will be until she's old and wrinkled like lady lannister, speaking of lady lannister.

"Maybe, the princesses would like to give us some insight into the whole ordeal?" Lady Lannister tilts her head to the side to get a look at both rhaenyra and valaena through the see-through curtains.

At the mention of princesses, valaena pulled away from rhaenyra and became frigid, she still getting used to being referred to as princess and she knows that lady lannister wasn't saying it out of respect for her statue but out of mockingly. She knows what they all see her and her family as. Traitors.

"We don't know what is happening in the stepstones, we are as confused and curious as you," Rhaenyra says after she looked over at valaena with a worried look at her change in behavior.

"Valaena, what is that in your hand, dear sister," Alicent asked changing the subject for rhaenyra and valaena's sake.

"Oh, ummm, it's a bit of a gift I made for the babe." She said shyly handing the shawl over the shawl, before stepping back to stand next to rhaenyra.

Alicent unfolded the shawl to get a good look at it and gasp as her eyes cast over the beautiful flowers and butterflies sewed into the fabric.

"Vala, it's beautiful," Valaena's smiled bashfully at her sister's compliments making her bow and thank her sister.

"A bit girly for a boy, don't you think." Valaena turn to tell her aunt that it was just for decor, but her sentence got cut short by lady redwyne.

" Even so, it was your uncle and your grandfather that started this war, was it not?" lady redwyne asked looking between rhaenyra and valaena, "And I would have thought how close you are to your brothers, princess valaena. That you would have shone some light on how it is going." Valaena stared dumbly at the older woman looking at her waiting for an answer, and she wish she could give it to them, but, she couldn't.

"I...I...ummm," she swallow the lump in her throat as she scratches at her cuticle before talking, "I haven't spoken to my brothers in nearly three years, so I do not know how the war is going or if my brothers and uncles or my grandfather for that matter are even alive." The women in the circle gave a look of pity at her words making them purse their lips.

"But, my family and I have yet to be notified of such news, so I will continue to pray to the gods for their safe passage. As well as, all the men fighting in the stepstones." Valaena told herself that many times ever since her brothers left for the war, and it helped her even when Aeron stop sending her letters a year ago and since she has yet to be told or seen a cold body. She will keep praying for their return.

"I will pray too and a light candle for those men fighting in the stepstones, when I return to oldtown." Lady Hightower spoke making the other women around agree, making valaena let a small smile slip onto her lips at their kind offer.

"Thank you, auntie, and thank you, all as well." She smiled gratefully.

"It is good that you haven't lost your faith, my dear. You get that from your father. " Lady Lynesse says.

"That she does," the sound of otto's voice from behind valaena made her cheek twitch, "...m'ladies, princess, I hope you don't mind me interrupting, I just need to borrow valaena for a moment. " Otto says before looking at valaena as she looks uninterested in whatever he wanted from her, unlike the others, rhaenyra, and alicent could see valaena didn't want to go anywhere with him.

"Do you need her right now, father? She was just telling us–" Alicent excuse was cut off by her father who plastered on a look that seems kind.

"I'm afraid so, my queen. I promise I'll bring her back." He smiles before leading valaena away with his hand on her middle back, valaena bid the ladies a quick goodbye before being led through the tent.

"How have you been, valaena," Otto spoke first, valaena side-eyed him before giving him a simple answer.

"That's good. How about your studies?" He asked, once again a simple answer, otto glance at his daughter for a moment before asking another question.

"Father, what is it that you wish to talk with me about?" Valaena asked when they finally stepped out of the tent and stood outside, otto stood in front of her with a look on his face.

"Your mother has been avoiding the king, he wishes to have an audience with her. But, has taken to hiding in her tent to avoid it."

"And you want me to convince her to come out, do I look like a messenger to you. Why can't you do it?" She asked, she didn't feel like going back and forth delivering messages, she had more important things to do.

"Because I am your father, and I told you to do it. And besides your mother and I aren't on talking terms right now." Valaenan rolled her eyes as if she didn't already know that.

"Can you blame her?" She mutters as she walks at a fast pace to get towards her tents, otto was walking at the same pace to catch up and stand by valaena.

"I thought you sensible, my child. I thought you out of all wouldn't fall for your mother's lies." Valaena gave an eye roll as she keeps walking.

"And I thought you out of all would hold some sort of dignity, but I was wrong I guess we both don't live up to each other expectations. " she snap back nearly to her tent, otto grabbed valaena's elbow making her turn to him with an angry look.

"Have you forgotten who you are speaking to, I am your father–" Valaena let a bitter chuckle slip past her lips before she took her father's hand off her arm.

"You are no father, a father...a good father wouldn't abandon his little girl with a man–"

"You ask me–no begged me to take you to storm's end–"

"Because deep down I hoped you would change your mind and help me, I am your flesh and blood. I would–I would have thought you at least stayed with me...just for a little while." She said distressed.

Otto let out an exhausted sigh, " I am the hand of the king, I have responsibilities, I can not drop everything and come to your side. You are not a little girl anymore."

"When was I ever." She said back making otto purse his lips, valaena glanced around before sniffling and wiping at her misty eyes, "Did...did you ever wonder if maybe I was safe there...or..." she asked, she wanted to know, she needed to know if her father sent her their out of his own selfishness or blindness, she hoped for the latter.

"Lord Boremund is a respectable man, I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt or defile you in such a way unless he was provoked. Did you provoke him, valaena?" He asked looking at her with a sharp look, the knife he planted in his daughter's heart hurts making valaena stare back at him distraught.

"No, father. I didn't." She said weakly.

Valaena told her father that she will tell her mother about the meeting, she didn't look at her father before walking away. She passed by the bench table, the flap of the tent was opened by marrio holding his daughter in his arm.

"Princess, are you alright?" He asked seeing the tears track down her cheeks, valaena gave a strained smile and nodded.

She turns her eyes at the 3 summer old baby and moves to tickle her under her chin and neck, " Did someone wake up from their nappy early, I bet you're hungry, aren't sweet girl." valaena talks to the cute honey skin baby making the little girl squeal in delight at the sight of valaena.

"You want to feed her?" He asked knowing that adrielle is the only one who can distract valaena from her troubles and brighten her mood, valaena nodded before taking the little girl and going inside to feed her some squished cherries and berries. As Marrio held the side open for them to go in, he turn his eyes over at Otto who was watching them.

Marrio sneer at the older man as otto gave a distasteful look back, marrio turn going inside to help feed adrielle as otto left to go back to his king.

❧

I move along the trees and the grass as I follow my sword and shield back to camp, marra was being carried by ser rewan on his back as he carried wood in his arms. I fell behind the two large men using my stick I found to move the tall grass out of my way and to poke marra, the girl glared at me over her shoulders making me give her an innocent smile.

"Keep up, little lord. Or I will have to carry you next to our friend here." Ser Kegan says with a thick northern accent, he had a couple of squirrels tied on his hip and a deer on his shoulder.

I run ahead of them finally back to camp, I grabbed what was on the edge of the woods and placed it on the table. Valaena walks out holding baby adrielle in her arms while she talks to her, valaena notices the ball and gave me a look. I gave an eye roll before knocking the ball off the table making valaena give a satisfied hum, I shook my head about to head inside to see my mother when a knight with the targaryen sigil walked up to the edge of the tent.

"Prince Baelor, your father, the king wishes to see you," I turn my back on the knight and look at my sister, she gave me another look that said, "be nice".

"In a moment." I walked away from the table to go inside and see my mother, she recline on the floor surrounded by pillows with a book in her hand.

"Mama." My mother look over at me as I stood in front of her.

"Hello, my son. Have you drained yourself already, I was hoping to take you out riding later." She says making me give a shake of a head before telling her that we might need to postpone it since father wanted to see me.

"If we can't do it today, we still have morrow." She stood from the pillows and walk to stand in front of me, she gently turned my head up at her so she can kiss my forehead.

"Promise me you be on your best behavior, he is your father all he wants to do is spend time with you." My mother mumbled against my curly hair.

"But, I'll rather spend time with you." I looked up at her, she smiled down at me before moving her hands to squish my cheeks.

"I know but I promise you if you be good, I'll let you practice your riding on rhaemyx." I thought about it and nodded, I can never say no to my mother or get a chance to ride rhaemyx, she pecked my forehead before saying thank you.

"Now, give me a hug." I wrap my arms around her waist giving a tight squeeze before letting go, she ruffled my hair before I walked back outside to find the knight gone.

I gave a kiss to my sister's cheek before making faces at baby adrielle causing her to babble and laugh as I passed them I went over to marra and my guards, "Are you ready to meet the king," marra's face scrunched up and shook her head.

"I'm not going." I frowned.

"Why not? I need you with me, I can't stand being by myself with him and those people." Marra sighed.

"I hate how he looks at me, he looks down on me and our friendship because of what I am, maybe its best you go alone." My nose flared and the promise of being on my best behavior for my mother was about to be a broken promise, I wish I can lie and tell her that isn't true but I have to see the looks he has given marra whenever she tags along with me to visit king's landing.

"What you are is an amazing person that I wouldn't trade in the world, you are more than what your legitimacy claims you to be marra." Marra smiled at me, I gave her an arm squeeze before punching her shoulder making her do the same but a bit harder.

I winced rubbing the spot she hit me, I told her I'll see her later before walking away from the camp and onto the path. As I walk down the large row of tents, I notice the sun was getting close to hiding in the tress making me hurry to king's tent, I felt my stomach turn as I walk inside. All the lords and ladies stared at me with polite smiles and bowed as I walked passed them, I had to stop a couple of times to shake some hands of lords that I never meant or seen before finally finding the king. I watch from my spot and saw him speaking heatedly to his daughter, I move out of the way as rhaenyra stalked out of the tent.

"My son, excuse your sister, she is in one of her moods today." I hmmed, when isn't she in one of her moods, I thought.

Viserys put his hand on my shoulder and guided me over to his chair, he seems rather tipsy making me stare at him a bit concerned. I know how he can get when he has too much to drink, he talks a lot and about some rather uncomfortable and displeasing things. I could feel small amount of people around us watching as I stood in front of the king, my eyes glance around the spacious tent before landing back on the king who just wore a soft smile.

"How have you been, father." I folded growing tired with the uncomfortable silence between us.

"I am well, my son. How are you, how are your studies going? Have you been practicing your valyrian?" I nodded before speaking in our mother's tongue for him to hear, "A natural. Have you read the book I sent home with you," He asked skittish, I duck my head before nodding making his eyes light up, he look so happy and all because I read a history book he gave me.

One thing I have in common with the king is his love for history, he has been trying to find ways for us to bond, but I didn't want to bond. All I wanted was to make my mother happy and return to my true family, not this charlatan that I am forced to visit because he feels bad about how he treated my mother.

"Oh, um, how is that little friend of yours, I'm surprised she's not with you. It seems you two always attached to the hip whenever you visit the red keep."

"She doesn't like people, so she stayed back with valaena and the others." The king hmmed nodding his head seemingly content about that little news.

"What a pity, so will you be company me on my hunt to find the white stag." I ignored his question.

"There's no such thing." The king beckons me forward, I hesitatedly walk forward to stand close so he speak to me.

"But, there are tales in these forests of such a creature, It was said white stag were the most powerful omens to the folks of westeros, " I leaned my arm against his arm rest and listened, " Some say killing the creature will be seen as a good omen, "

I hummed maybe I should go out later with marra and try to find the white stag, maybe it will bring some good fortune upon my family. My thoughts were side tracked when a man who I seen around the red keep approached, I believe his name was tyland lannister. He bowed before us with a spear in his hand, he gifted it to the king for his hunt making the king accept it. A servant took the spear away to store it somehwere, I wasn't paying attention to the conversations that was happening when i saw aegon playing with his toys next to his mother's handmaid.

"...and of you little prince are you excited for the hunt," tyland asked making me glance at him.

"Uh, yes, I wish my father and the other men good fortune on finding the stag."

"Will you not be attending the hunt with us, little prince." Tyland says.

"I'm afriad not. Mother doesn't like me wondering the woods at night," A white-lie to avoid spending any time with the king and his party.

"Pity. I was hoping to talk to you about your sister, little prince." Tyland said with a chuckle, a look of annoyance crossed the king's face as he turn away from me and to tyland.

"And which sister are you referring too, exactly?" I asked, he said the older princess, making me let out a scoff, "You have to be more clearer than that lord tyland, are you talking about the princess who came out of my mother's womb or the sister that came out my father's balls. I'm not a mind-reading." The king coughed chocking on his wine, lord lannister looked taken back and embarrassed.

"I-I meant valaena, the second eldest of your mother's childern, my prince. I have seen she's grown into a fine woman." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"My sister isn't looking for a husband right‐now, lord tyland. But, rhaenyra on the other hand is free, I remember one time overhearing her fawning over how handsome you were in the tourney long ago." Tyland looked smug at the compliment and acted bashful for a minute, before saying that left the king and I frigid.

"As honored to hear that I think you and rhaenyra would make a better match, prince baelor." The look the king shoot lord lannister made the golden hair man gulp before excusing himself, I notice the king move in his seat with a look I couldn't describe, I didn't think much about lord lannister's words, of course many people would think rhaenyra and I would get married, but the age difference is too far apart for either us to do our duties and besides my mother wouldn't be okay with it unless I was and I was not, I know who I'm going to marrry once I become a man.

"Do not listen to Lord Jason, my son. He speaks more out of his ass than his own mouth." The king let out a chuckle before downing his wine and having a servant pour him more, I hummed in agreement.

"Yes..." I said slowly as I side-eyed the king before continue speaking, "...The idea of rhaenyra and I getting married does sound ridiculous." The king frown a bit in his cup making me raise my brow slighly.

"I wouldn't call it "ridiculous" many of our ancestors did it, i think you and your sister would make a good couple. If you were to marry." My jaw tick at his words.

"Now, it sounds like your talking out of your ass, father." I move to stand in front of him, so I could see him clearly. He sway in his seat looking a bit pink in the face.

"Let's not talk about this here–"

"How about we never talk about this again," The king gave me a look before glancing around.

"It is just an idea."

"Well, it's a bad idea." The king shook his head and put down his cup before leaning forward.

"You are too young to understand,"

"I'm not too young to understand what you did to my mother," the king look taken back by my words before replacing it with a sad look.

"That was long ago, I have paid the price of my misdeed." I gave an eyeroll, I ask what price he paid for what he did and he said me making me look at him caught off guard.

"I know what you think of me, you hate me for what I did and you should." The king finished the wine in his cup before leaning his head back against his chair tired, "I do not deserve you or your siblings, all my life I wanted a son. Not because of duty, but because I just...wanted to have one, I wanted someone who liked history like me and my father did and someone to take on dragon rides like my mother did to me when I was just a mere babe." I frown and playing with my fingers, all he wanted was to bond with me.

"But, I guess your hate for me is what I get for hurting your mother..." he stop as his hand knocked over his cup of wine on the floor and start coughing, my eyes widen and look around before heading over to the table to pour wine in a cup, I rushed back giving him the cup to drink. He gave me a look of gratitude as he drink the wine, after he was finish I took it from his hand and sat it on the small table next to him.

The king took hold of my hand making me look at him and stand cloe to him, he held a sad smile, as his other hand went to my cheek.

"I'm so sorry, baelor." He looked misty eyed as he caress my cheek with his thumb, I shook my head and told him it was okay, even though he is drunk and probably won't remember any of this in the morning. But, I will and I will make an effort to truely bond with my...father.

"You...have your mother's eyes, baelor." He said a bit slurred with a faint smile, as his thumb tap my cheekbone, "...I...I wish you got to meet her...before..she died...she was beautiful..." the king low voice made me pulled my face from his hand, something in me broke as he confused me with my dead brother.

My quick action made the king blinked at me before the realization dawn on him, he backtracked and apologized, but I did not wish to hear it. I snatched my hand from his grip and looked at him with a livid look.

"B-Baelor, please, I–" His hand grabbed my sleeves making me grab hold his hand.

"I'm not your dead son, now let go of me." I yanked his hand from me and stalk away, my eyes were blurry as I walked out. I quicken my pace as I walked out of the tent hearing my name being called out.

"I take it, he told you," rhaenyra says, I turn my head to where she stood, my angry overtook my sadness making me look at her with a dark look.

It was her fault. If she didn't tell me those things about their decreased brother, I wouldn't feel this way. I wouldn't feel like a–I shook my head and pushing those thoughts down, I turn on my heels and walk away ignoring the footsteps that followed.

"Going to tell your mother about the good news, I'll bet she will be thrilled to hear about her son marrying the heir..." I rolled my eyes as she prattle on about my mother, I have argued numerous time with her about talking down about my mother, so much so, my mother told me to ignore it and to forgive rhaenyra because she feels alone.

So, I tried to be cordial with rhaenyra, but somehow she doesn't want to be cordial back. She made it clear long ago that she didn't want anything to do with a "bastard brother", even through she didn't say it out loud for me to hear, she said it and I knew where we stood from there. She hates me because I could possibly take the throne from her, she hates my mother because she spreaded "lies" about her father. And some point down the road I grew tiresome of hearing her complain and her spoiled behavior.

"....oh look, your mother's outside and she is not alone. I heard her husband is terribly ill...and old and not here. So, tell me baelor is that whore fucking him." I dig my heels into the ground and turn to face rhaenyra.

"Shut up! This is why your alone and no one wants to be around you." Rhaenyra look at me with a blank look, "You are so mean and miserable, and I'm sick of it and I'm sick of you, your father, and our dead brother. I wish you lot will rot in the dirt." I hissed turning back around and kept walking. The sound of footsteps disappeared making me sigh, I was getting close to my tent when I heard a horse and was pulled to the ground.

"Are you alright, little lord." I look ahead to see rhaenyra on a horse, she stopped looking at me with a look of anger and resentment.

"...bitch." I hissed under my breathe, I scramble off the ground and grabbed a rock and hurl it at her. She duck her head as the rock merely missed her and instead hit something that scared the horse making it run off with rhaenyra still on it.

"Baelor! What the hell do you think your doing." My mother stern voice makes me look at her, I pointed the spot that rhaenyra was in not long ago.

"She tried to run me down," my mother shook her head refusing to her it.

"I saw you throw a rock–"

"Because she tried to run me down." My mother shook her head at me before looking at the man who saved me from certain death, she asked if he was alright and he nods before telling her what happened.

"...it seems the princess didn't see the little lord–"

"She did see me–" My mother put her hands up telling me to stop and go to the tent.

"But, I–" she snapped telling me to go making me bite my tongue and let a angry huff, I ran inside the tent and threw myself on the pillows on the floor out of anger. I buried my face in one of the pillows and cried.

After a while, I moved my face from the cushion and realized I was alone in the tent, I sniff wiping my eyes and nose as my mother walked in with a tired and blemished look. She walk over to me and took a seat next to me, it was quiet, neither of us wanted to speak to eqch other. I could see my mother rub the space between her brows and sigh.

"What happened, my love." She said softly making me plant my face in the pillow.

"You already know what happened." I grumbled.

"I'm not talking about rhaenyra and you, I'm talking about your father." I rolled my eyes at the mention of that man, I turn my face so I could speak clearly.

"I don't know what your talking about, everything went swell. I'm thinking about staying an extra day or two, "

"Baelor–" she said sigh.

"I don't want to talk about it, okay! Can you just leave alone." I snapped at her making her look at me with a wide-eyes, I swallow the lump in my face before casting my eyes down to the rug on the floor.

"I know your upset about something, and usually I would give you time to tell me. But, I can't wait that long and your actions are worrying me." I look at her before casting my eyes down again, "Did she say something about me? If she did...it's like I always say she just going through some changes. It hard for her–" I love my mother and I love that she can see both side of things and people, but sometimes her impartial nature isn't always good.

"Hard for her? She's a princess and heir to the the iron throne, the only thing that is hard for her is putting on her own shoes." I sat up on my knees facing her as she gave me a look.

"That's not nice, baelor."

"You know what's not nice, mother. Calling your brother a bastard..." My mother looked at me taken back, "And telling him that the only reason the king wants me around is because he pretends I'm the child that he lost long ago."

"Who told you that." She asked, I didnt say anything, "Baelor Velaryon, who told you that nonsense, I want a name." Her hand came to my cheek making me look at her, I could see the anger in her eyes.

"You know who told me that..." I saw her gull and her eyes harden, she pulled away from me as her eyes werr fixed on the other side of the room, I look where her eyes were staring at Dreamcatcher.

Her eyes were pulled away from her sword to look at our family and friends come into the tent talking and laughing, she looks back to me and wiped my face with the sleeves of her dress.

"I will talk to your father and rhaenyra, I promise you this will never happen again." She leaned in and kiss my head before getting up, she headed for her sword putting it in her sheath. My mother told the group she was going for a walk, none of them questioned her and nodded and valaena told her to hurry back for dinner.

My mother nod before going over to the entrance of the tent, she look at me with a small smile before leaving. I watch dumbfounded and worried in what she might do.

"Baelor, come help set the table with marra." Valaena said carrying adrielle on her hip and putting a large bowl of grapes on the table.

I look back at the entrance of the tent before slowly getting up snd helping set the table, I pray to the gods that my mother doesn't do anything rash.

@beggarsnotchoosey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @green-lxght @stormgirlfriendd @supermassiveblackhope

[bogkeep]

last year i wrote my opinions on all the movies i watched on my Very Long Flights to australia, since long flights are a great opportunity to watch some movies i probably wouldn't have bothered to seek out otherwise. here's the stuff i watched this time around

the first 13 episodes of rurouni kenshin: okay so back when i watched demon slayer for the first time i asked around like "does anyone know any other Good Sword Animes. i'm in a big mood for Sword Anime" and a friend told me that they were going to tell me about THE sword anime, but with a BIG caveat. and the caveat was such that i went "ah yeah maybe i won't look into that one". i've since heard more about this series and been very curious about the story, because it sounds like My Shit. i figured in-flight entertainment is probably one of the more ethical ways to watch it, and i have confirmed that it is indeed My Shit. extremely skilled swordsman torn between his bloody past and a new life? he can win any fight, but at the cost of his soul? yeah. yeah. will say that the subtitles left in a lot of japanese terms and words that i think i would've greatly benefited to know the meaning of - like i figured it out from context eventually, but yeah. so Now I Know. at least my curiosity is sated.

the new wonka movie - it was Fine! i appreciated the sincere efforts of whimsy and trying to stick to a roald dahl-esque tone, though in hindsight it's ENTIRELY too magical and sugary sweet (hah). could definitely have done without the fatphobia - something that is very present in the source material, so i shouldn't have been surprised that it features in the prequel, too... it just made me go "nooo noooOooooo don't do that uuughhh noooooooooooooooooooo" a lot. honestly, as far as vibes go, this movie reminded me the most of the first f*ntastical beasts movie (you know, the one that came out in 2016, when we were still young and innocent) - like, decently charming, very cgi.

the old willy wonka movie - i had never seen this one before, and it provided me a lot of context for the New movie :') now THIS really hits the Unhinged Dangerous vibes the new movie lacked. easily the best played willy wonka. a grand old time. i <3 practical effects.

3/4ths of the barbie movie rewatch - is the barbie movie still fun to watch, even after a year of Essays and Takes? i think so. i was in a practical effects mood and had less than two hours left of my flight. like, it's The Barbie Movie. it will never be That Deep because it cannot escape its corporate mainstreamness, but i love the actual play-pretend whimsy and exorbitant amount of pink paint and funky outfits.

killers of the flower moon - i'd considered watching this on my previous flight, i had heard of the movie and put it on my to-watch list, but the THREE HOURS AND TWENTY SIX MINUTES runtime scared me off. not because i didn't have time (my flights were 12 hours and 7,5 hours respectively), but because i knew it was gonna be Heavy and Depressing and you gotta have the right mood for three hours of That. both of my flights had the exact same entertainment catalogues i gave it a try first thing on flight #2, knowing i don't have to finish it if i don't want. it was very good but oh boy heavy and depressing was correct! really good buildup of dread and despair as the web of murder closes in like water circling the sink. very good period piece, and everything i've read about it after indicates that martin scorsese worked very closely with the osage people to create this movie.

the lego movie rewatch - this is one of my favourite movies that i've seen many times but haven't in a while, and after the Three Hours And Twenty Six Minutes of indigenous people getting poisoned and murdered i REALLY needed something light-hearted. i was also severely sleep deprived at this point. all this to say that i was almost overwhelmed by how fun this movie is and kept tearing up at almost every scene. it's just such a good time!!!! my critique of this movie has always been that it has two tropes that annoy me - the "highly competent girl is reduced to an assistant for the clueless 'chosen one' dude" and "person who has changed their name goes back to use their ~*real name*~ because it's more valid than whatever they picked" - that only annoy me because of how prevalent they used to be at the time when this movie came out. in isolation, the story works really well and i still like it so so much. everything is awesome!!!!!!

anyway those are my movie thoughts

[lbwings]

The Fic List

I have been thinking of stories for Sapphire and the Legion for a little bit. BUUUUTTT I'm horrible at writing them out or drawing a lot for it. So I thought to give something a little fun to read tonight here are the summaries for the concepts I have so far!

Enjoy!

(Below the cut because it is long.)

Outline

How we met: Kel-El and the Legion of Superheroes are working protection for an ambassador meeting to have Sapphire do an impressive feat for her employer.

I Was Hired: Cos (and a couple others) thought it would be interesting to get Kel someone to talk to regularly to help him ‘adjust’ so they hire the person he made a comment about on the last mission. But both her and Kel are annoyed when they figure out the Legion is trying to be ‘helpful’. She ends up evaluating Kel (and the Legion) agreeing only if Kel does to stay around. She agreed to help him learn current habits but mostly to teach him about leadership, battle strategy, and recovery efforts in order to be an effective leader instead of a weapon.

First We Play: Sapphire brings Kel some games to play, much to his annoyance. Her goal: getting him to see the whole field. She did not expect the entire crew to get involved.

Everything else: Kel starts asking about other parts of life. Eating, sleeping, how her powers work since he’s noticed they flux. Finding her alone later that night for a real explanation.

Who’s the Best Superman: Sapphire has a debate with Brainy about which Superman is the best. Brainy starts to see she’s more open-minded than he thought. He begins to wonder why when she engages with Imperiex she doesn’t stay in the fight long or what else she is thinking about.  

The Blunt Edge: Getting run through and kidnapped by Imperiex overloads Sapphire’s empathic fuel and damages her psyche. Despite needing to be rescued, her hunger for battle quickly rivals an Apocalyptic heritage.  Can her mind be healed after Imperiex’s poisonous touch or is he now a part of her?

Forging a Sword: Sapphire, and the rest of the Legion, come to terms with the aftermath of her kidnapping as she develops a new power. Her built and support equipment were destroyed.  

Hungry Friend: A friend of Sapphire’s comes to visit when he hears about the psy-wave fallout. He also came for a psionic meal from his ‘little woman’. With a reminder that if she wanted any new equipment she would have to go home for a while; even if it meant risking getting sold off.

Home for the Cattle Drive: Sapphire does have to go home after Brainy failed to rebuild her equipment to previous specs. While a warm welcome was given for the Queen’s favorite it is not long till the full title of Favorite Hunting Dog is discovered as the planet is holding an auction of their best ‘beasts’.

A New Beginning: With a brother dog and a betrothed the crew encourages a new look for Sapphire and maybe some new living arrangements for Kel.

Death of a Family: Kel-El was only getting used to having something in his shadow, a warmth around him, when it got snuffed out. He wasn’t sure if it was pain of losing his new friend or of watching Sapphire cry over her brother that caused his chest to hurt. But he wasn’t ready for when Sapphire disappeared in flash too.

Another Time, Another Home: Sapphire fights an enemy to get trapped in the 21st century when she has to protect a woman who turns out to be Lana Lang.

Your Past My Future: Clark and Sapphire bond after Lana calls to tell him she picked up an alien friend. Expect this time Clark is fully grown and Sapphire is the new girl in town. How will they spend their time together before someone else finds out?

                -Note: Includes adventures with Wonder Woman, Bats, and New Genesis for the injury and evolution/scaling. But also some nice time with Martha and the farm.

Days or Months: Sapphire finally gets a ride back to her time, to many people's pain, but the shock of going back to the 31st century after almost a year to find she disappeared only days ago brings its own dysmorphia.

Stolen, Again: While fighting Imperiex, on almost even keel, Sapphire and Imperiex are taken. This time to alternate timeline of many alternate versions. But the Kel-El in this time is a calm, focused, older leader that merely wanted to barrow the two of them for a moment. After they finish helping all the variants they can be sent home- if they survive. Can’t go back if we all die right?

Temporal Headaches: After making it home again, this time within minutes, Sapphire finally answers questions about her time jumps. While it might come across other versions getting the attention from Kel-El there’s no reason to throw a tantrum. Oh wait you’re a baby; good enough.

The Big Questions: After everything that happened Kel begins to take being betrothed more seriously but wonders why Sapphire isn’t as forward with it.

                -Note- Goes over her concerns about his timeline and why she needs an empathic anchor.

[allthemurders]

i found your sarah barnaby whump posts and I'm desperate for more do u have any more ideas or thoughts ahdjsj

HELLO HI I AM ALWAYS DOWN TO TALK ABOUT SARAH BARNABY WHUMP!! i have So Many thoughts and ideas hehehehehe

ngl it’s been A While since i last watched midsomer tho, so my memories of it are all a bit hazy and i’ve probably misremembered some plot points / timings / etc. this is also why some of these ideas are Extremely Vague hgkfjdjfhf

(i’m gonna put it all under the cut bc the post got fairly long, wHoOpS)

ep-specific whump:

s19 ep5 - death by persuasion : the aim is a little off with the warning shot during the ball, and sarah gets hit. or she gets hit by a mirror shard. either way, she’s in a regency era ball gown and she is bleeding out while john frantically tries to help her. (this naturally gives her ideas for her book, much to john’s concern)

s20 ep2 - death of the small coppers : i was So sure sarah was gonna end up getting caught helping birgitte with her investigation and that some sort of whump would play out with that. i have no real thoughts of what or how or why exactly, but i Need it. possibly could have birgitte & sarah being caught snooping and subsequently getting whumped together??? helping each other stay strong throughout it, then working out an escape plan and getting themselves out before john & jamie can even attempt to rescue them??? also unrelated but sarah should’ve been there for the jamie whump scene at the end i stg

s21 ep2 - the miniature murders : THE MURDERER WAS LITERALLY IN JOHN & SARAH’S HOUSE WITH SARAH & BETTY. WHY DID NOTHING HAPPEN WITH THIS?????? MIDSOMER WRITERS HATE ME I STG 😭😭 anyways what if john & jamie rush in, john telling sarah to take betty to play in her room, but sarah doesn’t get the opportunity to leave?? the murderer grabs her in a panic and pulls a knife (or possibly a dangerous improvised weapon of some kind, i’m hazy on the details of this ep) and takes her hostage. jamie hurries betty upstairs on john’s orders, trying his best to console her and answer her questions while also massively worrying about his adoptive mum sarah. john is left to talk the murderer down on his own

s22 ep5 - for death prepare : things go massively wrong when sarah is on stage. i’m talking “murderer walks on stage in full costume with an actual extremely lethal sword or a period-accurate gun” kind of massively wrong. “the last guy he wants to kill is also on stage” kind of massively wrong. “sarah just gets in the way of his revenge and ends up with a severe wound” kind of massively wrong. (john and jamie get there in time to see it happen but too late to actually stop it. they both blame themselves for not getting there sooner)

s23 ep1 - the blacktrees prophecy : so many vague and depressing thoughts about sarah having a Bad Childhood™ with far too much pressure on her to always be perfect, because nothing was ever good enough for her mum no matter how hard she tried. (*literally looks so upset by the thought of her mum coming to stay that john thinks she’s straight up died* / “oh, i’m just touching up a few patches [of paint on the walls]. you know how my mother likes to point out every little imperfection” / “the house is, er… looking lovely” “well, i’m sure she’ll find fault somewhere”). HER SCENES IN THIS EP PHYSICALLY HURT ME HONESTLY. SHE IS SO STRESSED AND TENSE,,,,,,,,, and then basically as soon as she finds out her mum’s going to her sister’s instead you can See this massive weight has been lifted off her. like ik there’s a couple hours between her finding out and the actual scene at the end, bUT STILL. IT’S LIKE FLICKING A SWITCH???? SHE’S SUDDENLY HAPPY AND JOKING WITH JOHN AGAIN??????? sorry this was basically just me repeating canon but i have too many Feelings about it 😭😭

s23 ep3 - a grain of truth : look honestly i don’t really remember anything about this ep other than that sarah was at the place where a murder happened or smth and iirc exactly zero whump came out of this. some whump should’ve come out of this. also weren’t ppl being poisoned with ergot or smth?? why was sarah not poisoned with ergot??

non-ep whump:

john gets a call from betty’s school saying that it’s getting pretty late, will he or sarah be picking her up soon? and he’s a little confused, because it’s meant to be sarah’s day to do the school pickup and it’s not like her to forget, but he figures she must’ve been waylaid by something. he calls her, but it just goes to voicemail. he calls again; still nothing. he’s concerned now, wondering why she isn’t answering, but he knows she sometimes gets stuck in unplanned meetings for ages, so it’s like a low-level concern as he leaves work early to pick betty up. his worry absolutely skyrockets when he finds the front door kicked in, the living room trashed, and the house empty despite sarah’s car being parked up outside. a ransom note and proof of life photos arrive the following morning

john & sarah are held captive together for some reason. john’s being Extremely Annoying in order to get the captors to keep their focus on him, because he’s willing to take all the consequences of their anger if it keeps sarah out of harm’s way. one of the captors eventually hurts sarah to try and keep him in line, and he just goes absolutely feral

sarah should get to watch someone being killed. as a treat (..ok probably not for her, but it would be for me ✌️😎)

tbh most of the rest of my misc ideas are just various other forms of “sarah gets Beaten Up!!” or “sarah gets held hostage to get john to cooperate!!” s o o o yea that is basically all i can think of atm 👀

tysm for the ask, and i really really hope you enjoyed this whump as much as i enjoyed thinking about it!! ✨✨✨

[irisviel101]

Question for Beyblade Metal: if you could have given the Star Fragments to previous characters instead making new characters, who would it been and why?

Hi!

Good question. I've never considered this before but it's a really neat idea. Thanks for the ask!

Edit: This ended up being a loooong since I decided that some of the story beats didn't work with the character changed so I basically rewrote Metal Fury. Sorry for the long response and for straying so much from the topic, but I felt that it was relevant sicne I can't just change the major characters without it affecting the plot at least a little.

I would keep Gingka, Kyoya and Ryuuga/Kenta's Star Fragments the same since their arcs played out well enough that I can't imagine anyone taking their places.

For the winter Star Fragment, the two main candidates I can think of are Masamune and Benkei (Monoceros and Taurus). I am tempted to say Masamune but I think it would be great for Benkei's arc too, and Masamune will be the red herring just like he was in canon. It would give Benkei a way to compete with the main crew of Metal Fury and show how far he's come since his introduction in the first season.

Another reason is that all the seasonal bladers have their constellations best seen in the second months of their respective seasons, except for Kenta which is third. This symbolizes that they are the second generation of legendary bladers — the first being the ones from history — and Kenta is a third generation since he received his Star Fragment from Ryuuga. Similarly, Taurus is also best seen in January, same as Orion, while Monoceros is best seen in Februrary. Masamune would be a better pick from a meta perspective if there was a third generation of legendary bladers.

Anyway, it would be the last Star Fragment to be awakened in the season; I would play up Benkei's insecurities starting from the Tag Team Tournament arc and that would be the thing to hold him back for the majority of the season, despite all his efforts, until the Better Island Tournament. I dunno who I would choose to be his opponent in the finals — maybe Kenta for old times' sake or Masamune since either would boil down to who is the legendary blader amongst them. The one I'm leaning towards the most, though, is Kyoya. It would be so thematically appropriate, since Benkei has always been Kyoya's number one supporter and he's the one Benkei feels the need to prove himself to the most. I don't remember if Kyoya is there in canon or not, but if he isn't, I would just place his return earlier. But more on that later.

Regardless, this would be the time for Benkei to overcome his feelings of having fallen behind the rest of the group and that would help him awaken the Star Fragment.

Since King won't exist in this AU, Masakune can have his breakdown moment with someone from Team Dungeon or Gingka.

As for the solar system bladers, well, that's a less obvious choice. Also, most of the new characters have a reference to their planet in their beys. Jupiter and Saturn are the Roman names of Zeus and Kronos in mythology which are also the names of Dynamis and Aguma's beys respectively. Mars is the Roman name of the Greek god of war, Ares, and King's Bey is called Variares and is also called the "Sword of the Gods" in canon myths. Not to mention their personalities but I'll talk about them separately.

Since Yuki wouldn't exist in this AU, there needs to be a different way for everyone to learn about Johannes, but honestly, the start isn't that much different. Pegasus and Leone evolve the same way, Madoka and Benkei recall the night they got their Start Fragments and Gingka and Ryo make the connection to the Koma Village legend. At first, they don't really take any action on it but they do keep an eye out for any strange occurrences in the news and tell everyone they know to do the same.

(Because of this delay, Yuu and Tsubasa are able to leave on their training journey together with only words of caution from Ryo and Hikaru)

Then, Johannes attacks Gingka to try and steal Pegasus. He fails but manages to escape, and the gang decide that he could be a danger to other people as well so they search for him. They eventually find him and overhead him talking to Pluto and discover the Nemesis cult through that instead.

Then they discover the island where they find Ryuuga and things play out similar to canon except there's no Yuuki, so they only discover one legendary instead of two. Kenta begins to consider leaving the group but he stops because he isn't sure if following Ryuuga is a wise option since he could probably leave him to die somewhere and succeed.

Fast forward to the Tag Team tournament and since Yuuki isn't here to be Gingka's partner, Kenta gets to do that instead. Except Gingka does pretty much all the work with his new bey, further reinforcing Kenya's feeling of uselessness, much like Benkei. Their first battle is Da Shan and Chi Yun instead of Chao Xin and Mei Mei.

Instead of the Beylin Fist not existing at all, I decided to make them antagonists for this one arc. So Aguma still exists and is still insanely powerful, so he eventually gets to the semifinals where he has to fight Chao Xin and Mei Mei. This battle helps Chao Xin awaken his Star Fragment and become the legendary blader of Saturn.

The reason I chose Chao Xin is because in astrology Saturn is associated with obligation, structure, rules and ambition to name a few (according to Google, correct me if I'm wrong). These values define Aguma's character in Metal Fury but in Chao Xin's case, it would be less about him learning these things and more about reinforcing the lessons he has learned in the previous season and showing how much he has grown since them.

Because Aguma wouldn't have a Star Fragment, the Beylin Fist would lose, but Chao Xin would extend an olive branch to dissolve this centuries long feud anyway, saying that they aren't their ancestors and they don't deserve to be ostracized for something they personally didn't do, to show how much he has grown and matured since his introduction in Metal Masters.

Virgo would becomes Scythe Virgo since, you know, Saturn is the Roman name of Kronos and Kronos usually has a scythe. (Totally not me being lazy with the bey designs, definitely not.)

Moving on to the Destroyer Dome arc. Since there's no King, the legend of Variares would be just used to explain Destroyer's origins since it was modeled after Variares. Also, in this version, Julian would also be participating in the Destoryer Dome as he would be among the people who aided financially for the stadium's construction. And instead of first going to Italy or wherever else they went, and they go straight to America.

(Sadly for Gingka, they still don't get to participate).

So we get to re-meet Team Dungeon, Tsubasa and Yuu — who is sulking because he didn't get a last minute free pass from the WBBA since he's not their employee and using him to find a legendary blader would technically be child exploitation and why would they bother with that when Tsubasa is right there with his already great past record as their special agent? — the Eonis guy still exists, King does not (I feel the worst for this one) and Team Lovushka and Team Garcia are there too.

The first round goes pretty much the same, except Julian is there to contrast how the Garcias didn't change from the second season, although it is acknowledged that their poverty is an actual issue and they're not being evil for the sake of being evil. They're trying to survive; it's just that they're trying to screw everyone else over in the process. Maybe Julian even decides to take a chance on them and gives Argo a job — the only Garcia he can legally hire since the rest are below 18 imo. I chose Julian for this since they worked together in the past so Julian should know why they do what they do and after he almost lost all his wealth, he should be able to at least sympathise with them. Anyway, the Garcias need a better conclusion than canon.

Onto rounds two. Since King doesn't exist and Jigsaw is not interested in fighting at all, Masamune and Lera throw hands instead since they missed their chance to battle in the World Championships in Metal Masters (also so that the tiny rivalry they were beginning to form actually goes somewhere, even if it isn't in this season). Julian realizes that they're not just competing but also trying to find the Star Fragment, so he remains neutral for a whole, further spurring on Lera and Masamune's fight since they just want something done already. That is, until they decide that Jigsaw is being way too smug and decide to team up to take him down a peg. Similar to canon, Jigsaw obliterates everyone except Julian and Masamune.

The final round is where it gets interesting. Jigsaw eliminates Zeo and Toby, and goes into hiding. This annoys Julian since he believes that a battle needs to be fought valiantly with one's full strength, regardless of who your opponent is. We get a few flashbacks to Julian's battle with Da Shan in Metal Masters to show that this is where those feelings originate from. These strong feelings awaken his Star Fragment and Julian pretty much destroys Jigsaw easily.

Sicne Variares is modeled after the mythology Ares, with, you know, attack and defense modes symbolizing a sword and shield, Destroyer's new design would be similar to Variares. The Fusion Wheel would have a different name though, idk, maybe something like Paladin Destroyer or Knight Destroyer to fit with Julian's emperor theme.

Then, Tsubasa, Masamune and Julian have a battle royale. Masamune gets defeated, the stadium breaks and we get the hamster wheel scene with Tsubasa ans Julian instead. Instead of an exposition about Julian's past, we get a flashback to their first meeting aka the Dark Power shenanigans, and they talk about how far they've come since then and that they finally got to battle all out in a tournament after all, bringing closure to that arc as well.

The reason I chose Julian this time is because the planet Mars is associated with strength, passion, valor, energy, etc which are qualities Julian shows as well even if they aren't always apparent. His arc, much like Chao Xin, is more about reinforcing his previous growth than changing anything about him now.

Planet Jupiter is associated with protection (I'm saying this based on Google, correct me if I'm wrong). In Roman Mythology, Jupiter was considered a protective deity as well. We see this with Dynamis being the guardian of his temple and I think it parallels Hyoma being the guardian of Koma Village. In my version, Koma Village would play an important role in the protagonists learning what the hell is even going on since that's considered to be the origin of beyblade itself. Not to mention, it would help flesh out the location a bit more, since we only saw the areas surround the village in Metal Fusion but not the actual village itself.

I picture it starting with Mist Mountain, even though there is no Dynamis. Similar to canon, there would be various traps in the mountain to prevent intruders from reaching the temple at the top and it would essentially be a race between the protagonists and the antagonists to reach the top. Once they do get to the top, they find ancient scripts in a language so archaic that it's almost impossible to decipher. Johannes's group steal the tablet and get away with it, but Madoka manages to snap a picture of it before. Gingka finds the script a bit familiar and makes the connection to Koma Village, so the gang heads there while giving Hyoma and Hokuto a heads up to start looking for clues.

Once they gets there, we get a brief reintroduction to Hyoma since it's been ages, and then the characters would start searching for clues in Koma Village's library. We would also see the village more populated since the people decided that it's safe to return now that Ryuuga and Doji have been defeated and a whole year has passed without any similar incidence.

Meanwhile, Doji — without showing his face on-screen — would make the connection to Koma Village sicne he invaded that place twice and probably did extensive research beforehand. So Johannes, Pluto and Cygnus would make their way to the village as well and start attacking the place, demanding that they give him the information or he would destroy the place. The gang tries to stop him while Hokuto continues to search for information, but they aren't powerful enoguh to defeat Pluto just yet.

Eventually, seeing the place he's worked so hard to protect being threatened and attacked like this again makes Hyoma snap and his desire to protect everyone makes the Star Fragment awaken and he manages to defeat Pluto with his newly evolved Aries.

I decided to just give Aries Jupiter's Fusion Wheel since the four metal balls in the Jade Fusion Wheel are supposed to represent the rings of planet Jupiter, which have four components. So Rock Aries turns into Jade Aries.

After this, Hyoma decides that they need more information on how the legend went down to see if they can learn anything else, but Hokuto tells Hyoma to leave that to him and to train with his new bey instead sicne he believes that the enemy will only get stronger and stronger from here on out.

(Alos, since there's no magical vision of their ancestors, they have no clue what the planetary legendary bladers are supposed to look like.)

For the next one, the candidate I have in mind is a bit out of the way, but hear me out. Mercury is associated with communication, rationality, adaptability, variability and thinking. It's no wonder that Yuki is the legendary blader of Mercury in canon, even without considering that Mercury in Roman mythology is the messenger of the gods and guess what is Yuki's main role in Metal Fury?

Anyway, the person I chose to replace Yuki with is Sora. I imagine that he would appear in Beyster Island as a competitor. He would eventually get to fight Kenta in the tournament and we would see flashbacks of Kenta teaching Sora way back in Meral Fusion. Sora would defeat Kenta, showing how far he has come since then.

While preparing to leave, Kenta would run into Gingka and they would have a conversation about why Kenta left, similar to canon. I feel bad about removing the Gingka vs Kenta fight sicne it was such a good battle, but I think they're close enough friends that they can come to an understanding even without that. Besides, it's been a long time since we've seen Sora so this fight would serve to not only show his growth but also to reintroduce him as a character.

Then, Sora would fight Gingka. Finally, after all this time, he would get to fight his role model. Sora would way more analytical and adaptable now, having built up on the foundation Kenta gave him in Metal Fusion. So, while it wouldn't be as apparent as Yuki, he would still fit the values mentioned above.

I think Gingka would win this fight since showing up out of nowhere and defeating Kenta and Gingka would be a bit much. Not to mention, it would show Sora that no matter how far he has come, he still has something higher to strive towards. However, he would awaken his Star Fragment during this fight.

Since Anubis's Fusion Wheel is modeled after Vulcan, which was a planet proposed to exist in Mercury and the Sun but was later disproved, I would make Sora's Pegasus evolve into Mercury Pegasus. I would get rid of the stripes in the design since they remind me of Anubis, and I would make the shape less like a feather give it a bit more rounder and flowy design as a nod to the element mercury which is the only metal that is liquid at room temperature.

Lastly, for Venus, I would choose Yuu. Venus is often associated with love (platonic or romantic) , relationships, harmony, beauty and the urge to sympathize with and unite with others. In canon, the themes of friendships and relationships were explored with Tithi well enough, but I feel like they could just as easily be explored with Yuu. Not only is he someone who sees something wonderful in almost anything but he is also able to easily sympathize with and befriend others, even managing to befriend Doji to a certain extent.

I have no clue how he would awaken his Star Fragment though. I think that Doji would take a more proactive role this time around, mostly because it's Yuu and he wants to mess with his head almost as much as he wants to mess with Ryuuga. Doji would probably be searching for the last fragment too, since they have literally only one and that is the one Nemesis got, so finding that last fragment is doubly important. He would run into Yuu and Tsubasa by chance and decide to mess with Yuu a bit because Fiji's thw actual worst. Tsubasa tries to fight him off while Yuu recovers from the whiplash of seeing him alive, but Doji's gotten much stronger since then and Tsubasa is struggling. I think Doji mocking what little understanding they used to have back in Metal Fusion would be enough to snap the Star Fragment into action. Flame Libra becomes Death Libra, because I think the complicated bey design suits Yuu since we all know how tactical he can be when he wants. (Seriously, just look at the wiki page. That Fusion Wheel is way more complex than I thought.)

Doji would eventually retreat once Yuu becaomes the legendary blader of Venus, because he knows that he has ruined aby chances he might have had of recruiting Yuu to their side, not that Yuu is stupid enough to fall for that a second time nor would he just abandon his friends for a guy like Doji.

I imagine that, since none of the legendary bladers side with the Nemesis cult this time, they would have some time to actually plan things since the cult wouldn't have the other Star Fragments to accelerate Nemesis's revival. They would, however, make the legendary balders fight the fodder enemies to gather energy for Nemesis once the protagonists do decide to attack their fortress. There would only be one battle since they would have had the time to actually plan stuff instead of speed running the preparation phase of the invasion. Ryuuga dies, Kenta gets the Star Fragment and they all play a role in the final battle instead of it being just Gingka eith the power of the whole world on his side.

Damn, this turned out longer than I thought it would. Sorry for basically writing out a fanfiction, but I figured that I should go forward with how things would change if I did change the main characters. Sorry!

[enigma-absolute]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers :)

…This is gonna make a total of 15 but oh BOY

This was mentioned in a previous ask before but singing a whole cover of ‘Rainbow Connection’ I did with friends joining me on the last third of it. It makes it extra special and I want to post it on here, but I’d rather ask the friend who I’d made this for, with posting permissions first.

Honestly? My silly little neopixel lightsaber I’ve (unwisely, in my mother’s opinion) bought at a recent con. It lights up, it makes noises, I can change the blade colour bc of the light, it’s so far everything I’ve wanted in a cheeky laser sword prop.

On a related note, my silly little sword collection! A LARP foam sword, a wooden katana, and even a steel replica of Sting, also from that same con over a few years!

Fashion! Me from 10 years ago being on this hellsite for the first year would never believe it, but growing and defining my own sense of style and aesthetics over time has not only been fun, but I *feel* happier too. I know what I like and what I don’t, and I’m still learning!

The very fact that I was blessed to go to the uni I did. Sure, the culture is different there compared to of course, my old high school and bible college, but I loved what I studied (more rather than less!) and I’m still in touch with people I’m honoured to call friends. To think some of those cool people live near or in the same city as me!

Not to be simple, but, music! I’ve been getting back into some of my favourite songs and remixes from The Living Tombstone as one point, (Long Time Friends you angy catharsis tune), but also listening to playlists I’ve curated for OCs and Stories and even shared songs with me and my friends over on Spotify has been fun!

Travel!!!! I didn’t know how much I’ve missed travel until my Singapore trip earlier this year - I missed boarding planes, taking off and landing, I missed going out to places like malls and cafes and food and friends outside of my own country. I missed the new sights to see and the good vibes to encounter when you look in the right places. And having my first taste of independent sightseeing at the botanical gardens felt like something new was set in stone.

As of recent, RP has been somewhat active between me and a couple buddies on discord. To the Chrumblr RP gang and Star Wars discord RP server: I love you and I'm grateful you allow me to bring plorbo from my brain into Situations with the characters you play!!!

Painting!!! I haven't touched it in a bit since I've been busy with other things, but I adore, ADORE watercolour and gouache painting. It brings me joy to mix colours and use my palettes to bring characters and situations to life, and I even have a whole sketchbook from 2022-2023 dedicated to just paintings. Sketchy paintings, refined ones - the only goal was to PAINT.

The crochet sunflowers I bought last year! I've got a tiny potted one on my study's windowsill with a broken Miles Morales Spidey keychain, and a longer simpler one in a glass bottle in my bedroom. I really wanna get more crochet flowers, but they were from this one random stall that set itself up like, twice overall at uni last year. That being said, I adore them.

From the same con I got my lightsaber on, I got lucky to buy a print poster of A New Hope from Lucasfilms artist Mark Raats direct. I'm not kidding, and we even had a chat and I did a little 'handy-dandy-notebook' portrait of him in line, even getting to airdrop that to him! Best bit, the poster was $30 on INCREDIBLY archival paper. I just need to get a frame for it...

Just recently, I'd gotten a haircut for the dry ends and long, thick fringe; and can I say??? I love my hairdresser? She's a really sweet Japanese lady who came from just outside Osaka and she's out here in my city doing the best and she once cut my fringe to my standards SO quickly than other hairdressers - I was stunned! I'm deeply grateful to have her work on my hair, and I could not thank her enough.

This is a bit silly somewhat to me, but I love the brown messenger bag I'd bought for myself end of last year as a treat to myself for finishing honours. Did the side strap holders snap twice? Yes. Do I care? no. I love this thing, it feels so *right* for adventure and it brings me so much joy.

Something that makes me smile if I glance at it in my study is my shelf of books. Not sketchbooks, not notebooks that have been filled (though I am proud of that too!), just proper books. From comics to 'Tales from the Loop' and cabin architecture and treehouses, and recently a couple Star Wars visual dictionaries from Pablo Hidalgo... I'm gonna need more space soon. (Shoutout to the copy of Farenheit 451 that legit made me scream and kick my feet because BRADBURY.)

Honestly? Just… friends. Online, real life - if I think about you too hard, I’ll cry. I’m blessed to have met friends online In Real Life (looking at you Swift and uni mates!), and blessed to have mailed and wrote and created silly little things to share my love with ‘em. Good are the ones that stick with you. 💙 Get loved, nerds.