#like warriors. more people need to write wind content

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hii I like your writings! If you're still taking requests, can you write something about Eomer and the female reader? The reader is Aragorn's older sister. A ranger and a renowned warrior. After Eomer personally meets the owner of the stories he's been hearing for years, he may begin to fall in love with her. If you write, thank you in advance, if you don't I totally understand, no problem.~

Greetings, Anon! I'm SO sorry it took me so long to get to this request. It has been sitting in my inbox for a hot minute. Thank you so much for reaching out and dropping this off. I hope you enjoy this little thing I put together.

A Sudden Spark

Éomer x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: mild suggestive themes, slight canon-divergence, fluff, yearning, crush at first sight

Word Count: 1.4k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

The Great Shadow is fading.

Evil is not gone. It is simply receding, lingering in the farthest reaches, waiting for the final blow of steel that will eventually come. There is a brightness that stretches over everything like a warm blanket draped across the shoulders. It is as if the Sun returned after a long sleep.

Éomer breathes deep, allowing the brilliance of sunshine and the floral aroma on the wind to fill his lungs. A peace settles over him, a gentleness that extinguishes all ache from the last few months. Éomer is battle-weary. He lost his uncle, and nearly lost his sister.

A few years of peace are what he and everyone needs.

Turning away from the Pelennor Fields, Éomer reenters the feast hall of Merethrond. Taking up residence beside a tall, white pillar, Éomer observes the crowd around him, drinking from his mead cup. Everyone is in a celebratory mood. As they should be.

The battle is over. Gondor has a king. And yet, there is still so much to do.

Éomer celebrates along with them. The mead is delicious if a bit strong, and he has a tender urge to experience life. A fair maiden with lovely lips and curves would surely satiate that subtle hunger.

But darkness and duty lurk in the back of his mind. The bright sunshine and fresh air only quieted it for a moment. Rohan is without a king. Éomer will take up the title. He has not officially been crowned but it will happen after all of this is done. From this point on, Éomer must serve his people in more ways than he has previously. While he has always been a ferocious fighter and a skilled rider, the politics of ruling will become a new burden.

Éowyn will support him, but for how long? She is currently tangled up in Faramir’s arms, the two of them moving across the floor in a dance that sends the bottom of her dress spinning. Her smile is wide and pure, cheeks lightly flushed from exertion and most certainly from the beginnings of love. Faramir’s smile is just as wide and bold, their gazes locked on one another as if there is no one else in the room.

No. Éomer will not always have his sister. It appears that he will lose her to another sooner rather than later. But he is not upset. If anything, he is happy for her. She deserves so much, especially after all they’ve lost.

That leaves only him. He too will need someone at his side that is more than simple counsel. Éomer will need a wife. That is the reality of things. Someone for him to love and to love him in return, to birth his children, to listen and give advice, and to assist in taking care of the realm. While it is a duty, Éomer deeply longs for companionship.

But all this responsibility subdues the celebratory mood. It slots his thoughts into all that must be done on his return to Edoras.

Éomer is happy for Aragorn. He is happy that Gondor has a king, and that Gondor will be a great ally. He is happy that Aragorn has reunited with the woman he loves, and that the lands are no longer scarred by darkness and death.

He takes a long swig of his mead, leaning harder against the pillar as he observes the dancers in the middle of the hall. The mead is strong and sinking into his bones. The buzz is sharp in his blood.

“Not joining in?” The feminine voice draws Éomer’s attention away from the dancing couples and to the end of his right shoulder.

Éomer freezes, his mead cup halfway to his mouth. The woman standing next to him smiles sweetly. Your gentle beauty is soft and inviting. As Éomer continues to stare, that sweetness morphs into amusement, and that one look sends a little shiver up his spine to slice through his heart.

When he doesn’t answer, you arch a single eyebrow, and Éomer hastily clears his throat.

“Not for me,” he admits, immediately drinking some of his mead.

“Dancing?”

Are you asking him? It feels like you are but Éomer hasn’t always been successful about understanding a woman’s signals when she’s interested. Usually, Éomer is the one approaching.

Éomer nods because he doesn’t trust his voice. He might choke on his words this time instead of a simple cough.

There is a stretch of silence before you speak again. “But you are celebrating.” You nod toward his cup. Éomer briefly glances at your empty hands.

“And you are not partaking,” he comments.

You laugh. “The Lord of the Mark is observant,” you tease, smile stretching toward your ears.

Another stretch of silence, and your eyebrows start to rise toward your hairline, head tilting slightly. Éomer blinks and then heat rushes up his cheeks.

By the Gods, he should have realized sooner.

Éomer pushes off from the pillar, straightening his shoulders and back, smoothing the front of his formal tunic. “Would you—”

“Yes,” you reply automatically, eagerly reaching for him.

Your hand is warm in his. Éomer follows, allowing you to lead, dropping his drink somewhere on a random table before entering the crowd of dancers. The music is upbeat and light. Éomer wouldn’t call himself graceful, but he did grow up learning traditional dances for this very reason.

But you continue to lead, and somehow that is comforting. Éomer is always prepared to take charge and make decisions. He does none of that now. You are smiling, clasping his hand, this stranger that has suddenly captured all his attention.

Perhaps forgetting for a bit is a good thing.

Éomer goes through two dances with you before the music slows a bit. Before, he hardly had a chance to speak, but now the two of you are close together, bodies pressed tight. He briefly glances over your shoulder and notices Arwen’s smile. She is watching him, and you. His gaze falls to the man beside her.

There is a slight frown on Aragorn’s face. Why is he frowning? Why does he appear concerned?

“You know my name but I’m afraid I do not know yours,” says Éomer, his face slightly tilted toward your own.

You give it casually and Éomer blanches. He knows that name. He knows who you are.

For the time he’s known Aragorn, Éomer has heard the stories from others, never from the man himself. He keeps you secret, not leaning into the tales told about you. You are his sister, the elder but not by much. But you are not soft and delicate, or so Éomer has been told.

You are daring. Adventurous. A fierce warrior and Ranger. You wield sword and bow with gracefulness and deadly aim. Éomer had heard that the Rangers came during the battle, but he did not see you. Then again, Éomer was far too busy trying to keep himself and his fellow Rohirrim alive.

The image he built of you in his head does not match the woman before him. The way you match his every step and how your hands feel against him, all speak to gentler things. Before him is a sweet and soft woman, but as he peers closer, Éomer notices the subtle shifts of your movements. There is a warrior’s grace to the fluidity of your body against his and with every leading step.

There is power within you along with the soft.

Éomer’s heart suddenly snags, stuttering before becoming a pounding drumbeat. When you turn your smile back to him all coherent thought leaves his brain except one.

She’d be a fierce queen.

The music swells and then melts away, and you release Éomer to step back and bow deeply. Éomer mimics the movement. When the two of you straighten, it is at the exact same time, and then you step far too close for a stranger.

“This is where we part,” you murmur, soft lips forming the words yet also sending Éomer’s brain into a foggy scramble.

You incline your head and begin to draw away. Like a lightning strike, Éomer moves into the space you just occupied, snatching your wrist to pull you close.

Your lips part in surprise, chest heaving slightly. Éomer’s gaze drops to the exposed tops of your breasts.

“This is where we part,” he repeats, gaze returning to your face. “For now.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

[star-girl69]

My Heart Never Knows

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: hello everyone and welcome to my new series!! some of you might know me from my hotd writings, and some of you might not know me at all. i am so excited to give you this new series- jake sully x neytiri x fem!reader!! i’ve had this idea rolling around for a while, and i finally decided there isn’t enough of this pairing so i decided to write my own. thank you so much for reading and i hope you all enjoy!! (not beta read)

also- please send me a private message, a comment, or an ask if you would like to be added to the taglist!

warnings: none, but tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter One - Under My Ribs

—-

When the Sky People come, you are not scared.

They have come before, and now they have come again. Ronal hisses they are a sore that keep recurring, something no herbs can fix. Tonowari soothes the clan- saying that it is not the Metkayina’s war. It is over the sea, he says, in the forest. We are reef people, not forest people.

The village is assuaged and life continues as it did before.

But with each wave, each whisper of wind, you can feel something changing. It has been a year since they came again- and you know it is happening.

You are not the Tsahìk, not like your sister. Ronal is the most talented Tsahìk you have ever known. She is in tune with the water, with Eywa. There is this air about her, this wisp of something. Like she knows more than you, and will not deign to tell you.

As her sister, you are awarded more of her kind smiles than most. Ao’nung even jokes that she loves you more than her own children. You know that isn’t true, but you humor him anyways.

Ronal is the sun, and you are the moon in her shadow.

It is hard, to simply be the “other.” To crave the light so much it aches in your ribs, but to be denied it time and time again by your own blood. She does not mean it, this you know, and it is not her fault. She probably thinks you content in the shadow, content to be the moon.

But you want to be wanted, want to be needed. To be loved.

Tsireya and Ao’nung love you, call your their aunt, listen to you, respect you.

Even Tonowari loves you in his own way. Although it is mostly just pity, a sorrow he feels for his poor mate’s sister. Alone and unmated, childless and teetering on the edge of useless. You are not a warrior like him.

Instead, your days are filled with trailing behind Ronal, carrying her supplies, holding her tools, helping her while she cures sickness and prays to Eywa. She is a force, like that. You swim with Tsireya, race your ilu’s near the edge of the reef.

It is something deep under your ribs, near your heart but not quite, this longing, this feeling- knowing that you are meant for something more.

When the Sky People come, you are not scared.

Tonowari says you are safe in the reef, in your village. So you contend yourself to your life, live with something growing under your ribs.

When the Forest People come, you are entranced.

—-

“Y/N,” Ronal says, looking into a steaming pot. It is full of herbs and sea plants, simmering and cooling down into a soup, meant to be fed to a injured man, to help with his pain.

He snagged his arm on a rock, and he is lucky to not have died. Ronal had only looked disappointed when she saw him, before diving into her work and effectively saving him. You stood in the background, listening to her commands, handing her what she asked for.

Normally it was Tsireya who helped her, but you had persuaded Ronal to let her go into the sea today. It was a beautiful day, and there will always be other injuries. She relented, eventually, and you had smiled at Tsireya as she leapt into the water.

You watched her disappearing figure until you could not anymore.

The morning is calm, and Ronal is in a good mood this morning. The news of her baby has put her in good spirits, and you are most happy for her.

You turn you attention back to her, looking over from where you are tidying some cases of herbs on the shelf.

“Will you get me some more seaweed?” she asks, glancing at you over her shoulder.

“Of course, sister,” you murmur, and collect a handful of the green plant and give it to her.

She looks it over, taking about half and putting it into the pot.

She starts muttering to you about what she is craving for the evening meal, and you indulge in the mindless conversation.

The morning is normal. You feel something in the air, like you have been feeling so often lately, a changing. This feeling under your ribs. It aches and wanes, and Ronal knows not what it is.

The ache flares when you hear the sound of the shell being called, warning you that outsiders are approaching. It is not the war call- but you and Ronal still share a look anyways. She leaves the pot to simmer, hand brushing your arm as she leads you out of the home and onto the sandy beach.

When you come out into the sun, feel the sand under your feet, you see people crowd around something. You can just barely see the figure of ikran, steady on the ground. You gasp. Ikran- forest people- have not come to the Metkayina in years.

Then, you see them, and the feeling under your rib aches. You suck in air, and Ronal looks at you. When you shake your head, she appraises you once more. She does not believe you are fine, but there are more pressing matters.

Her expression glazes over again, inquisitive and slightly worried. Neither of you know why the forest people are here. They are fighting a war, but your people are not.

The crowd parts for you and Ronal, and she looks around at the crowd before her eyes narrow. She stands next to you, although slightly in front of you.

Regardless of anything, you are still her baby sister. And without a mate, and without your parents, it is her and Tonowari who will protect you. Your sister’s mate stands in front of these strangers now- spear pointed up, ready to stand for battle at any moment. He shoots the two of you a glance.

The two of you come to stand next to Tonowari, and you finally see them. Forest people. Familiar, although not by face. The air about them is.

It is a man, a woman, and four children. Your eyes flick down to the youngest one, a girl, you think, and she cannot look to be more than seven.

“I see you, Ronal.” The man speaks, raising his fingers to his forehead. The woman copies him. “Tsahìk of the Metkayina.”

“Why do you come to us, Jake Sully?” Tonowari asks, hand extended, and you suddenly realize who they are.

It is Toruk Macto and his wife, Neytiri. And their children stand behind them, around your niece and nephews age. Besides for the little one, of course, who stands close to her mother.

Your eyes flick up- and the ache in your ribs flares again. Neytiri is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. Her eyes shine in the light of the sun, holding that reserved sadness behind them. You faintly wonder why, before she meets your eyes.

You watch as her mouth parts. She looks at you like she is blown away- but it must simply be surprise. You do look a bit like Ronal, and to see you stand so close to her, she just must not have known that Ronal has a sister. You dismiss any foolishness in your heart, ignoring the ache in your ribs.

Jake Sully holds his arms out. “We seek uturu.”

The clan immediately jumps into whispers, and you bite your lip.

Tonowari is a revered warrior, a wise Olo’eyktan. But this strange man, this forest person, he is Toruk Macto.

You glance at Ronal, and she looks taken aback.

“Uturu?” she asks, looking past you and towards Tonowari.

“Yeah, sanctuary for my family.” He steps forward, and you see his face fall. He is… scared, you realize.

“We… are Reef People. You are forest people.” Tonowari says, as Ronal starts to circle them. “Your skills will be nothing here.”

“We will learn your ways, right?” Jake laments, turning towards his family. He looks at them expectantly, and you see Neytiri reluctantly nod. His voice is hurried, nervous and scared. And suddenly you cannot hold your tongue.

“You look scared, Jake Sully. Did something happen? To the Omaticaya People?” He looks towards you in the same way Neytiri did, as if noticing you for the first time.

“N-no.” He says, but you are not sure you believe him.

Ronal grabs Neytiri’s tail, the little ones arm.

“Their arms are thin,” she observes. The little girl whispers for her mother, bounding away over to her father. “Their tails… are weak.” An older girl takes her tail back from Ronal. “You will be slow in the water.”

She looks down, suddenly, grabbing the girl’s arms roughly. She grips her wrists, holding her hands up for everyone to see the five fingers she possesses.

“These children… are not even true Na’vi,” she hisses.

The girl she is holding looks to Jake, calling for him.

“Yes we are!” She says suddenly, and Ronal drops her arms and walks away. She grabs one of the boys next.

“They have demon blood!” The people gathered around jump back and gasp, the whispers rising again.

“Look!” Jake calls, holding his hand up to your sister. “Look, I was born of the Sky People and now I am Na’vi, alright.” He turns back to you and Tonowari, still frantic. “We can adapt. We will adapt.”

“My husband…” Neytiri starts, face blank and apathetic, “was Toruk Macto.” She points her chin up, stepping closer to Ronal. “He lead the clans to victory… against the Sky People.”

When she looks to Tonowari, you watch as he nods. He cannot deny Jake Sully’s achievements, cannot deny what Toruk Macto has done.

“This you call victory?” Ronal asks, voice cruel. “Hiding, among strangers.” She steps forward. “It seems Eywa has turned her back on you.”

Neytiri bares her teeth and hisses, and you sister does the same. But Jake steps in just as you place a gentle hand on Ronal’s arm. She steps back, reluctantly.

“I apologize for my mate. She is-”

“Do not apologize for me,”

“-tired, we have come a long way and she is exhausted.” He gives Neytiri a small flick of his head, and Neytiri hisses and turns away.

Tonowari steps forward, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Toruk Macto is a great warrior!” he proclaims. “All Na’vi people know his story. But we, Metkayina, are not at war.”

Your heart squeezes when Jake picks up the smallest child, cradling her to his chest.

“We cannot let you bring your war here.”

“I’ve done my war. Okay? I just wanna keep my family safe.”

Ronal and Tonowari share a look, and your eyes flick between the two of them.

“Arturu has been asked,” Neytiri says, arms wrapped around herself and chin pointed to the ground.

Ronal stares at them, mouth parted, as Tonowari turns and looks at her. You watch as they subtlety move their heads, silently speaking.

“Ronal…” you whisper, and when they turn to you, you nod.

You know Ronal values your opinion, and Tonowari does by extent. You cannot let this family be turned away, left to travel the planet hoping for someone to take them in. Finally, Ronal breathes in and nods.

Tonowari stands tall, addressing the people. He breaths in.

“Toruk Macto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters. But they do not know the sea- so they will be like babies, taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

“Thank you,” Jake breathes, and the rest of the family follows.

“Our son, Ao’nung, our daughter, Tsireya will show your children what to do.”

Ao’nung steps forward, complaints spilling from his lips, but Tonowari stops him. He sighs, and Tsireya beams. You see her eyes fixed on one of the young boys, and you smile to yourself when you notice he is looking at her as well.

“Tsireya and Y/N, my sister, will show you the village.”

You look towards Ronal, eyes wide, and she only looks at you pointedly.

“Ronal,” you hiss, but she only touches your arm and pushes you forward.

When you look forward, Jake and Neytiri’s eyes are on you.

—-

taglist:

@sully-stick-together

[kiriekonamistan]

Y'wanna know what I want to see in Sonic fandom? I wanna to see more characters interact with the Master Emerald; and by extension Tikal.

yeah, I know both she and Chaos ascended at the end of SA1 but I need more wholesome Sonic content and I like Tikal.

I WANT TO SEE

•Rouge stealing the M.E not just because she's a jewel thief but because she wants Tikal to experience what a 'Club' is, so she installs the M.E. as a sort of light-fixture in Club Rouge for a night or two until Knuckles can get it back

•Silver winds up accidentally traveling TOO FAR into the past and meets Tikal

•Silver and Tikal bonding over a mutual interest in plants (Tikal would need to know about medicine as a priestess and Silver just loves plants)

•Sonic taking trips up to Angel Island to describe the latest adventure to his ghost buddy

•(This one's based on a few of my headcanons) Shadow's body generates Chaos Energy similar to how the M.E. does, so Tikal realizes she can sneak away from Angel Island as long as she has her spirit connected to Shadow. He doesn't feel any different or even realize she's a ghost/or following him until he starts seeing the same Echidna girl everywhere

•Shadow and her having a conversation about ancient weapons and how modern technology has improved the simple arrow™ into the Gun™. Basically he teaches her how to shoot a gun and the mechanics of firearms while she teaches him how to fight like a traditional Echidna Warrior. (Does Knuckles know? Is he jealous? I dunno, I'm not gonna write a fic about any of this. You do it. If you like the material you use it, I'd love to read about ALL of this!)

•Silver (while in the past) tells Tikal stories about his friends' adventures which lead to the murals seen in the games. He doesn't know he was the cause for those prophecies until WAY later.

•Amy struggling to make recipes Tikal taught her. She's trying to make traditional Knuckles Clan food for Knuckles to enjoy.

•Knuckles and Tikal just vibing together on Angel Island. Maybe taking care of the chao together.

And of course,

•Tikal has gossip on EVERYONE because she's such a reliable person and so easy to talk/open up to. She doesn't use this information for evil though, she's a good person after all. Sometimes after a bad fight between two people she'll use what she knows about them to encourage them to fix whatever went wrong.

Sonic and Shadow not agreeing on how to deal with Eggman? Tikal's got a fix for that. Amy and Knuckles having a sibling argument? Tikal can help. Cream and Vanilla are (politely) disagreeing with each other on whether or not Cream should be allowed to go on the next Big Adventure? Tikal has calm advise and wisdom to share.

Give me some slice-of-life Tikal the Echidna content and my life is yours!!!

[irusanw4]

Uhhh pinned time ig? I see it a lot so why not

Yo! Call me IrusanW4, mutuals can call me Iru but please don't if we're not mutuals. I use strictly they/them, and I'm asexual and aromantic. I'm autistic and I love things A Lot when I love them, so... fair warning? Read more has details on me n stuff. Don't wanna clog dashboards or anything :3

I don't have a specific DNI but like. Don't hurt people. Don't have a joke for that just don't hurt people. But! DO interact if you are strange, peculiar, freakish, cringe, or otherwise throw social norms to the wind!

I'm always open to civil good-faith discussions about what I've done wrong!

Things I care about too much for my own good: Death Note, My Hero Academia, Chonny Jash, Dungeon Meshi, Pokemon, Digimon, Slay the Princess, the Stanley Parable, Warriors, Wings of Fire, Risk of Rain, Slay the Spire, Portal, psychology, animals, linguistics, space, my place in the universe, death as something to be studied, and much much more.

While I won't do much acknowledging sex (as in the act) myself due to personal discomfort surrounding the topic, I do support the right of people to have sex and have fun so long as all members consent to it!

Also, I do art and writing! I'm IrusanW4 on ao3 too, so feel free to be nosy! I don't share much art outside of Discord, sadly, but yknow! I'm always open to questions about my writing and art, be it original or fan content!

Social justice:

Abortion needs to be accessible to everyone with a uterus. The death sentence shouldn't exist in any way shape or form. A criminal justice system focused on punishment rather than reform should not exist. Capitalism is by existence a system of oppression and must be replaced. The American education system is thoroughly fucked. The genocide of anyone is inexcusable, no matter their origin, and those who fund the slaughter and/or exploitation of Palestinian, Congolese, or any other people are further beyond immoral than I have words for. All cops are bastards.

Miscellaneous:

Vehement supporter of found family. Indie game lover. Indie music lover. Example of gifted kid to burnout who's somehow still gifted just deeply exhausted pipeline. Cat owner. Lover of music. Noodle enjoyer. Asker of questions. Furry. Therian. Mediocre Pokemon player. Registered member of the Satanic Temple. Believer in improvement as a person as a necessary part of life. Friend hoarder. More always to come.

I'm a bad tagger but here's notable tags:

#blorbo street, where I put all my favorite characters together to interact.

#ouroboros universe, a collection of my writing that's all technically within one continuity. I might add more tags specifying which instance, but so far, it's all lumped together.

#scrunchy friend <3, most of my @therewillbenoromance interactions bc he's scrunchy to me.

#blue friend <3, most of my @nevermeanttoknow or @mapleejay (same person diff blogs) interactions bc. he's blue. yeah that's it

#the whole world au, a cccc x warrior cats crossover au

#summer solstice au, a cccc au where heart dies in apathy

Other blogs: @different-picture-daily and @gimmick-sniffer

[summitclan-chronicles]

Wow! November is almost over!! Summitclan has celebrated their own feast, the Fox's Larder, by this point. They're winding down, preparing for the long hardy winter ahead... wait- winter?! It's almost winter!!! That means...

Applications are opening on Friday, December 1st!

I'm so excited!!! The whole month has FLOWN. There's one more post between now and the 1st. But with the day now on the horizon, almost before us!, I thought this post was best used to discuss how this is going to work.

When do applications close?

Sunday, December 24th, 11:59 EST

Where will applications be hosted?

Google Forms

What are these applications for?

These are purely to get people into the roleplay: there are no character questions. This gives me a more focused way of vetting new members and making sure I fully understand the nature of the people I accept without also worrying about characters.

What can I expect on the app?

The application will be presented in three sections:

The first part will be information gathering. This will be your name, pronouns and ways to contact you. You will require a Discord account, but you can also put down other ways to get you if something on Discord goes wrong.

The second part will ask about your roleplay habits & how much of the Warriors series you've read. This allows a good picture of what certain people might need when getting accepted.

The third part will ask some personality questions.

Will anything on the application change my roleplay experience?

Other than deciding whether or not you get in, yes! Everything about your character is up to you except their age bracket; you will be assigned as a Senior, Warrior or Youngan. These are all very wide however and allow for significant differences within.

This is mostly to provide structure for people who have not had much roleplay experience: these people will be younger cats, while more experienced people will be older cats to guide them.

Note: the rest is pretty winded. if your eyes need it, take this as your sign to blink, get some eyedrops or take a screen break.

Can I apply for staff?

Well, yes and no.

In the structure of Summitclan, the roleplay staff are the same people as the inrp high ranks, known as the Council. In order to be considered as part of the Council, one must meet certain paramaters both on the Applications and in my research of them. Staff are held to a higher standard and are given more abilities than the average member, and I must be very careful and every choice must be purposeful - like the treacherous parts of a hike.

So there is a question asking if you want to be a Staff/Council combo. But that does not guarantee you a place, nor should you particularly expect to have it offered at the start. Knowing you are willing is good to know for the future though 👀

What sort of people are you looking for?

Overall, this roleplay is one where the goal is to write stories, go slow, explore character arcs, feel big emotions about fake cats, and experience worldbuilding in a day-to-day fashion. So, we are looking for people that are creative, gentle, patient, open-minded, friendly and considerate. We're not looking for saints - lots of people appear jagged and tough but embody all of these characteristics. The plan is to dig deep and find good people through how they act and what they choose to spread.

To note, we're not gonna check through your reblogs and search up every username you've ever interacted with! But we will note the general tone of tags, replies and reblog content - what do they say about the person? How might this person interact with others that have applied or myself?

Will applications reopen? When?

Well, this is complicated. These sorts of applications - where people and characters "poof" into being and retcon their backstories - will never open again after this Christmas Eve. You'll never see anyone retconning themselves into scenes that have already been roleplayed, nor will you see any NPCs as members of the clan - what you see is what you get.

But in the future, a clan will always have kittens. Every time a new litter is concieved, special applications will open for new members to take & adopt the kits. They will be randomly assigned a kitten with a design by staff & a name given to them by their parent/s. This is an opportunity the founding members largely didn't get: an opportunity to learn the lore organically through loving clanmates. (All cats get a fertility boost in March and April - check for openings in April, May and June!)

Similarly, to ensure the clan remains fresh, loners will come in batches that will be designed by new members coming in.

Phew! Thanks for staying through all that. I hope I will be seeing you on December 1st when our applications open! Til then, I hope you have a lovely night, and whatever tomorrow brings - know I am thankful for you!

[super-ion]

Writing some backstory for my D&D character and it kinda got away from me

Setting belongs to @sunnylucy31 (with a couple of my own head canons for some minor details)

~~~

An icy wind whipped over the Cryptfloe tundra. The twisted stunted trees that sparsely dotted the plains did nothing to stop it so it cut like icy knives. Worse, it brought the faintest stench of rot.

It was not yet mid-spring, but Artemisia had overheard the rangers speaking of an early thaw. This far north, there should have been little to fear from roving undead, otherwise they wouldn't have sent three students on patrol with one of the rangers.

The Frostborn prided themselves on being poets and scholars, trading more in song and knowledge than the material wealth of their lumber and coal. Kofar itself was so isolated, there was little need for any sort of standing army, a point of pride among the ivory tower types who dwelled in Whitespire. Beyond the city walls, beasts and monsters still dwelt among the mountains and the forest and the occasional undead creature made its way across the Cryptfloe. A loosely organized volunteer force of rangers patrolled the lands. It was a difficult, thankless job, but it was necessary.

Service assignments were one of the prices of education in the Frostlands. Everybody worked, everybody contributed. The work was meant to keep scholars humble and keep the skalds in touch with the common people. Some assignments were certainly cushier than others. Some assignments they reserved for particularly troublesome students.

She could endure this. She had to. She was going to be a skald and she was going to travel the world.

She was freezing her ass off.

Artemisia pulled her cloak tighter around her and her tail miserably as she trudged onwards. Instead of grand far off fantasies, she shifted her focus to imagining the warm meal waiting for her back at the outpost. If she played her cards right, she might be able to enjoy a warm body too.

Her gaze drifted to Valoshar. The ranger was half orc, tall and powerfully built. She had spied him in the saunas on the second day of her exile to the tundra and had been slowly probing his defenses. Intuition told her that she couldn't just throw herself at his feet, he had too much self respect and likely had all manner of folk clamoring for his attention with each batch of students that were sent out here. No, if she wanted it, she had to work fort it. So she had contented herself with long game. The best part was he was definitely on to her little game and might even be playing along. Their slow dance of seduction was the only thing that made this sojourn almost tolerable. It was a good distraction and gods above and below, it would be so worth it. Oh, to finally feel those tusks brush roughly against her lips and… elsewhere… it would be-

"I fucking hate this," Eriem muttered for the hundredth time, shattering her fantasy.

The half-elf had done nothing but complain since they had gotten here.

"Yeah, well," Artemisia replied spitefully. "If somebody hadn't been caught stealing from the kitchens, we might have been sent somewhere more pleasant."

"Anyone could have been caught," Eriem protested.

Artemisia scoffed.

"You were bumbling around like an owlbear. It's like you wanted to get caught."

"And I suppose you wouldn't have?" he snipped.

"Oh please," she replied. "I was stealing from my father's kitchen as soon as I could walk. There's an art to it."

"Then why are you out here stumbling around in the snow like the rest of us?"

"Because I'm cursed to associate with morons and idiots," she shot back.

Laru, the fourth member of their party, cleared his throat softly.

"I… I think it's a great honor," he said. "To see the frontier and the brave warriors who defend it."

The little gnome scholar had a soft, melodic voice, he might have made a good skald if he were able to hold a tune worth a damn. But he liked stories, so Artemisia had taken a liking to him. He had responded initially with suspicion, but gradually relaxed when he realized she wasn't a threat.

"Oh please," Eriem scoffed. "You got sent here as a punishment just like Artie and me."

Artemisia ground her teeth at the nickname, but she held her tongue. He knew she hated it and she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of witnessing her discomfort.

"To each according to their need-" Laru began, but was cut off by another scoff.

"This shit again?" Eriem interrupted.

Laru fell into sullen silence at that.

"Gods, Eriem," she muttered, "do you have to be such an ass all the time? Don't you think this whole situation might be just a little more tolerable if you were pleasant for a change?"

Eriem grumbled something uncharitable that she chose to ignore.

The sad part was Laru believed what he said. Well… she believed the words, she was Frostborn after all. They were a hardy people, but that hardiness came from community. The actual sad part was the scholar believed he had been specially chosen by the Conclave to patrol the Cryptfloe as part of his service curriculum. The maxim of "live together, die alone" took on a looser meaning in Whitespire where so many people living in one location in comfortable safety led to stratification. The likely truth was that he was a pawn in some political machination, somebody's nephew or cousin, shunted off to the tundra for a semester for some blackmail purposes.

Skald education was somewhat different than a scholar's. Artemisia and Eriem were both apprenticed to Gwynris Horthahk. The dwarf was a demanding teacher but when she sang, her audience hung rapt on every note, every word, every tiny gesture. Artemisia wanted that. She had wanted it more than anything ever since Gwynris had stayed at their inn when she was seven. The woman had traded a performance for a room and her father had certainly gotten the far better end of that deal.

Two years prior, word had reached Fardrift that Gwynris was seeking an apprentice and Artemisia had seized her opportunity and made the trek to Whitespire alone in late autumn only to discover that a rich family with an important name was already paying her a tidy salary to mentor one of their scions.

Artemisia, tiefling bastard daughter of an innkeeper from Fardrift, had a name that might have meant something a hundred years prior and a handful of silver that her father had pressed into her hands upon her hurried departure. But she was Frostborn: she knew how to be relentlessly patient.

It was rare for a skald to take on a second apprentice, but she decided to make her presence a problem until she secured that apprenticeship, no matter how long it took.

For two weeks, she hounded the woman's every move, charming her way through the staff entrances of inns, taverns and mead halls across the city, desperate for even a scrap of wisdom. It had taken Eriem three entire days before he realized they were being waited on by the same serving girl in every establishment, but Gwynris herself never commented on it. The woman just regarded her with a detached curiosity.

Eventually, either Gwynris had been impressed by Artemisia's persistence, or she had heard something special in one of her street performances, or maybe she just grew annoyed by the vagabond sleeping on her doorstep. Whatever the reason, Gwynris took her on and Artemisia quickly discovered how harsh of a mentor the dwarf really was.

Eriem, the pompous little shit that he was, was destined to be an orator, singing sagas for the richest families of Kofar and the wealthiest diplomats from abroad. His family's money kept Gwynris well fed and her sole interest in his education was ensuring that he didn't embarrass her.

Artemisia on the other hand, she worked three times as hard. There were endless errands and harrowing lessons that would go on for hours. Artemisia chafed under the preferential treatment and found herself questioning her life's purpose on more than one occasion. But she persisted, and slowly, grudgingly came to realize that Gwynris was preparing her to survive in the world beyond the shores of Kofar. Whatever spark Gwynris saw in Artemisia, she meant for it to thrive and even blaze in the wider world.

Artemisia was certain this assignment, patrolling the tundra's edge with the rangers, was another lesson. Officially, it was punishment. Eriem had indeed stolen sweet cakes from the Conclave kitchens, but Artemisia had the impression that he was being punished more for being caught than the actual crime itself. Artemisia had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and "it would be good for her" and "she might learn something".

So she had decided to make the most of it. She swapped tales with Laru and was already composing an epic ballad based on one of the more obscure stories he told her. She had to embellish, of course. No sense writing an epic if it was just going to put people to sleep.

She also collected bawdy drinking songs and solemn dirges from the rangers. It was a fascinating subculture out here on the tundra where frozen undead thawed and slowly advanced every summer. She could probably write a book about it if she were so inclined. Somebody would probably read it.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Valoshar had stopped in his tracks until she almost plowed into him.

By instinct, she froze. She had grown up between the mountains and the forest. She knew that when a ranger stopped moving, something was afoot.

She cocked her head and strained to hear, but the tundra was dead silent save for the wind.

"What the hell is going on, Val?" Eriem shouted.

Before she could turn to tell him to shut up, there was a thunderous crack and she was knocked gracelessly to the frozen ground as a massive shape erupted from beneath them.

The wind was knocked out of her and her hands and knees smarted painfully from where she landed. She only had a moment to blink dazedly before the screaming started.

She scrambled painfully to her feet and whirled. The zombie might have been a bugbear once, but it had rotted and frozen and refrozen beyond recognition. It had its jaws clamped tight around Laru's leg as he beat helplessly at its face.

Her hand grasped the hilt of her rapier and yanked it free. Her mind raced as she tried to recall the details of all the lessons Gwynris had beaten into her. She had never fought a real enemy before, but her understanding was that stage fighting was very much different from the real thing. She squared her stance and raised her blade.

Eriem stood a few paces away, his eyes were round and panicky and his mouth hung slack in terror. He held the hilt of his own sword in a white knuckled grip, but shock had completely frozen him before he could draw it. Fine, if he was going to be useless, at least he had the good sense to stay out of the way.

That left her and…

A warhammer slammed into the zombie's shoulder with a crunch, spraying shards of mostly frozen flesh. The zombie released Laru and turned to face Valoshar. It opened its mouth to groan or howl, but no sound emerged from its frozen lungs. The whole effect was deeply disconcerting in Artemisia's opinion.

She had to do something, anything to assist Valoshar, so she did what came naturally. She opened her mouth and sang.

"The sun blazed high in the clear sky

O'er frozen ground, where no plants grow

The thrice cursed dead, he sent to rest

Their bodies thick upon the snow"

It was from the epic she was composing from Laru's story. Valoshar cocked his head at her in a moment of bafflement, but drew himself up at the words.

She took the opportunity to thrust with the rapier. It bounced ineffectively off the frozen flesh, dimming her bravado somewhat, but it was enough to give Valoshar a chance to deliver a devastating blow to the monster's head.

It went down with a crash, twitching and spasming before Valoshar dealt it another blow that brought it back to stillness.

Artemisia stood panting. They had won. Her words had inspired a mighty warrior into great deeds.

Laru moaned in pain nearby, shattering the thrill of victory. The gnome was in poor shape, his leg was mangled and too much blood lay freezing on the ground.

She swallowed. She knew what she had to do, she had seen it done before.

She held her hands before the wound and began to sing a wordless tune. It wasn't quite the same as when she sang for Valoshar, though there had been magic in that. This was rhythm and melody reshaping the world. There were tales that claimed the world had been sung into existence, but she herself had never come close to believing that until now. Laru's wound knit together, color returned to his skin and his breathing calmed.

She finished the song and continued kneeling at his side. She had sung countless times, for audiences of all sizes, but she had never sung like that before. She had done it. She had cast a spell. She had woven sound and magic together into the world and the whole experience left her breathless and exhilarated.

[memoryreign]

👑 One Piece AU 👑

Name: Toothiana; Tooth or Ana for short. Aliases: Tends to refer to herself as the Guardian of Memories. Race: Human Age: Hundreds of years (visually in 20s) Height: 4'6" Occupation: Wandering archaeologist and collector. Devil Fruit: Tori Tori no Mi: Model Kinnari (Mythical Zoan) Status: Wanted

Can hear the Voice of All Things.

Often accompanied by hummingbirds that she speaks to.

Gets a little too excited about finding bones...

Devil Fruit grants her biological immortality and the ability to heal wounds via touch.

Human form: Brown hair with multi-coloured strands, often decorated with feathers. Pink eyes. Often wearing golden jewellery and bags to carry artifacts and her writings within. Usually carries twin swords.

Kinnari form(s): Most often uses hybrid form, covered wrists to ankles in small iridescent contour feathers, with feathers sprouting from her hair. Hummingbird-esque wings. Around her wrists and ankles there seem to be golden lines that appear to look like golden bracelets and anklets, as well as gold feathers on either side of her head for earrings. She also has long, drapery feathers that start at her waist line and end at her knees, giving the appearance of a skirt or dress. Her more beastly form sees her legs change to those of a sharp taloned bird, and increases her strength as well as her height.

Toothiana was born a very long time ago, on a jungled island in the New World. She was born to a woman named Rashmi - a beautiful and fierce warrior - and a man named Haroom - a slave who turned on his master. She was raised on the outskirts of a village at the edge of the jungle, and lived a simple and happy life - until she turned twelve and consumed a Devil Fruit that she had found, causing her to sprout wings and bodily feathers.

Initially, Toothiana was joyous. She made friends with the birds and the wind, and flew up to the trees to pick the ripest mangoes, starfruit, and papayas for the other children of the village. While the children delighted in Toothiana's new ability, the adults of the village were shocked and frightened by this now half-bird girl. Some thought she was an evil spirit that must be killed, while others saw ways to use her - as either a freak to be caged and paraded about, or to force her to fly to the palace of the island's royalty and steal their jewels.

Haroom and Rashmi knew that to keep their daughter safe, they would have to escape. So they packed their things and departed deep into the jungle. The children of the village, who loved Toothiana as a friend and a sisterly figure, begged their parents to leave her alone. But they were driven mad, blinded with fear and greed. Many people attempted to capture her, but none were successful.

One day however, a mysterious hunter commanded that the girl's parents be kidnapped - and killed if she did not show. Rashmi and Haroom had told their daughter never to come after them if they were in danger, but the girl had spared no time in rushing to her parents' rescue. Battle broke out, and though she was able to reach them, she lacked the strength to lift them over the angry mob. Rashmi took out a stringed pouch and handed it to her daughter, saying that its contents would comfort and guide her, before commanding her to go. Toothiana flew away with a terrible scream - half-human and half-bird - up to the highest treetop in the land and sat there to grieve.

For a full day she sat in the tree in a phase of disbelief and sadness. However, then she remembered the pouch Rashmi had given her. Opening it, she found a shimmering ruby box. Within the box were trinkets from her childhood, along with a note from her parents - guiding her to hold them tightly whenever she felt lost, for they would help her to remember better days, and to remember that which she needs.

Toothiana stayed in the jungle - but she hated her wings, these powers she possessed. If it weren't for them, her parents would still be alive. She even refused to enter her winged form for the longest time. The creatures of the jungle did their best to comfort her, bringing her the freshest of food and making her beds as soft as possible. But Toothiana became more and more convinced that she belonged nowhere. Not with the animals of the jungle, and certainly not with the humans of the village. She was all alone.

Years passed, but Toothiana never felt or saw herself aging. The children of the village were growing up, but she retained the same appearance she had in her twenties - a side effect of this mythical zoan fruit, she would later come to understand. Following her parents' guidance, she would hold onto those childhood trinkets whenever she felt sad, focus on them intently - and in so doing over many years, she came to understand that her parents had seen something in her that she had missed.

Speaking to the animals may be a power granted to her by the Devil Fruit, or, perhaps, something greater. The Voice of All Things. She could hear it. Not only animals words, but their thoughts - the messages in their hearts. And not only animals - but objects too. Even bones. She could speak to them, hear their messages, the memories they held. This power was a gift, something she could use to bring comfort to others, to understand the world as nobody else could and discover lost history. However, the adults of the village did not see it this way. They branded her a liar, a deceiver, some kind of witch. A trap was laid for her, and she fell for it - right into a seastone cage set for her by the mysterious hunter from all those years ago.

Toothiana was taken to a representative of the World Government, where her secret was revealed. Naturally, those who ran the world would not allow one who could unearth their misdeeds to live. Toothiana could only demand to know why the mysterious hunter was so set on seeing her punished, but the revelation that he was her father's former master - seeking revenge for being dethroned - and that he had indeed killed her parents was almost too much to bear.

Before either representative or hunter could end her life, she raised the ruby box to her heart and held it tight. She pictured happier days with her parents, she pictured them sacrificing themselves for her... and no attack ever came. The animals of the jungle, large and small, had come to her defence. They broke her free of the cage, and all at once her fury for the hunter began to swell inside her. She unlocked a new form - one more beastly, with the legs and talons of a bird - and lifted the man up by his throat. She could have killed him - but the trinkets within the box began to speak to her, offered her the memories of her parents once more. She let him go - allowing the jungle to decide his fate.

Such events took place many years ago, and Toothiana has since learned to accept her Devil Fruit powers. Over the years, she has healed - and reclaimed her kind and compassionate nature. She has mainly lived in solitude, though has travelled across the world many times in human form in search of lost artifacts and history waiting to be uncovered. She guards the memories these items share with her closely, that she might one day be able to share what she had learned with the world. The government has never stopped searching for her, and neither have money-hungry hunters - but she has thus far been able to elude permanent capture. In recent years, she has begun to reach out to people again - with lifetimes of loneliness making her yearn for the companionship she once held with her family and friends in the village. Whether or not this will eventually lead to her downfall is yet to be seen...

[tathrin]

Thank you for the votes and replies and reblogs, everybody. I am left both delighted and feeling a little guilty to see so much interest in this story, so here as thanks for said interest as well as apology for taking so long to write it, have the thirty-some sentences you all made me write...and well as a few more:

The day of their departure was dull and cheerless, with the East Wind rattling the pines of the hills surrounding the low valley of Imladris. It had been decided that they would leave at dusk, as they hoped to travel under the cover of nightfall as often as they could, at least until they were far from the prying eyes that might be lurking near Rivendell.

Legolas was not bothered by the concept of travel under darkness. He was a Wood-elf of Mirkwood, and his people had lived long years with no light but the stars to guide them in the years before the Sun and the Moon were hung; too, he had lived most of his life beneath the Shadow that had darkened the trees of the Greenwood until it was called instead by many Taur-e-Ndaedelos, the Forest of Great Fear.

Legolas did not fear his own woods, and he did not fear the darkness of the coming night either.

He studied his companions as they gathered for their departure, curious about these people who sought the dark secrets of Dol Guldur.

Legolas had been one of the first to leave the Hall of Fire, where they were all making their farewells to Elrond's people. He was a stranger here, and had needed only a short time to politely take his leave; indeed he had thought that he would be the first of the Company to assemble, but Celebrimbor had already been standing outside in the gathering dusk when Legolas came out.

Had he realised the other elf was there, he might have lingered in the hall; but walking back in once he saw Celebrimbor would have been rude. Instead he gave a cautious bow, and received one in return, and was relieved when Celebrimbor did not press a conversation upon him, but rather seemed content to wait in silence for the rest of the Company to assemble.

They came out in a trickle, and Legolas was both glad to have the excuse of watching them and eager to get a close look at his travelling companions. Gandalf, of course, he knew already, for Mithrandir had come to Mirkwood many times over the years and was a great friend of Legolas's father, although the wizard did not immediately emerge from the hall; no doubt he was as common a visitor to Rivendell as he was to Mirkwood, if not moreso, and thus had a great many farewells to make before he left.

The first to join them was Aragorn, dressed in sensible greens and browns after the fashion of his own Dúnedain Rangers, and though he carried no bow or indeed any weapon aside from the reforged Andúril, Legolas knew him for a competent warrior and woodsman. He seemed not to notice either of the elves standing at an awkward distance from one another; his hood was low over his face, and he took a seat on the steps outside the hall and bowed his head until it rested upon his knees.

Legolas was curious, but resisted the urge to ask about the source of Aragorn's distress; they had met once or twice before, during Aragorn's previous journeys through Mirkwood, but Legolas did not know him well enough to risk prying into something private. Besides, thought Legolas, they all of them had many reasons to feel leery of this desperate journey; if it were no more than the weight of the dangers they were walking forth to face, still Aragorn would have good cause to feel disconsolate or unsettled on the brink of their departure.

The Hobbits he was less sure of, for though he had met Bilbo, also a great friend of his father's, and had heard many stories of the noble Burglar's exploits, Frodo and Sam looked to him very young and uncertain as they trudged out through the doors. They each had short swords of their own, but they did not wear them like people accustomed to carrying weapons, and their garments did not seem well-suited to secret travel through the Wild, even with the warm jackets and fur-lined cloaks with which Elrond had insisted on outfitting the Company.

Legolas, too, had been given such a cloak, although cold bothered him little; he did not know if Elrond Peredhel felt cold as mortals did and had forgotten that elves did not, or if he had simply not wished Legolas to feel singled-out or slighted by not being provisioned the same as the rest.

Perhaps, Legolas thought, his eyes skittering towards the other elvish member of the Company, Elrond had been more concerned by the thought of potentially singling-out Celebrimbor. Legolas might need no furs to keep him warm on winter nights, but Celebrimbor stood hunched in his cloak as though he was already cold, for all that he was as elvish as Legolas; indeed, Legolas knew that some would reckon Celebrimbor as even more elvish in some ways than was Legolas, for he was one of the Calbin: the elves who had lived alongside the Valar in the Undying Lands before coming to Middle-earth over the Sea in pursuit of Silmarils.

Legolas looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. He was almost as anxious about travelling in close company with Celebrimbor as he was about the dangers they might find along their journey, and he had already determined to do his best to avoid crowding the old elven-smith as much as possible.

As he glanced away his eyes landed on the pair of dwarves walking towards them now instead, and Legolas was much less abashed about studying them. Gimli, the younger, was the one who would be travelling with them, and like the other members of their small Company he wore a fur-lined cloak against the cold. Unlike the rest, Gimli wore also a short shirt of steel-rings. The armour looked heavy to Legolas, but he had always heard that dwarves made light of burdens; perhaps the metal corslet and thick gambeson beneath did not weigh as much upon Gimli as it looked like it should.

The Hobbits had brought with them a pony who would carry the bulk of the Company's burdens—spare food, clothes, blankets, and many other provisions whose purpose Legolas, who was used to travelling light and swift after the fashion of Wood-elves, was still unsure of—and the pony, Legolas had learned earlier from a stammering Samwise, was named Bill. Bill seemed cheerful enough about their journey, at least, despite the low clouds overhead and the bulky sacks he carried.

The other two Hobbits had departed earlier to return to their homeland, reluctantly it seemed to Legolas, although they had gone with Gildor and three other elves as guides and guards upon the Road. Legolas had not been privy to the farewells between the Hobbits when Meriadoc and Peregrin had departed, but he suspected they had been heavy ones. Now Bilbo alone stood with Samwise and Frodo, although he huddled in his cloak beside his nephew without speaking. 

Legolas vaguely recalled Elrond voicing some concerns about the Shire which he hoped Meriadoc and Peregrin might look to, and to which purpose they had been sent, although he was unsure precisely of what sort; there had been many discussions in the weeks between the Ring's arrival and its departure, and Legolas had found himself overwhelmed by the breadth of information and possibilities that Elrond and his councillors had debated.

The complexities of their contemplation and strategizing had been very different from the more straightforward tactics employed by Mirkwood's warriors, and Legolas had paid little attention to any discussion that did not involve mention of his forest. Indeed, he would have been content to avoid the councils altogether, had he not been needed to attend in order to offer his own knowledge of his trees and the Shadow rotting in them. He was relieved that the planning was now complete, and the Quest could start at last.

Too, he was eager to be home, even if he was returning in company with a great evil.

Legolas glanced at Frodo, and then away again quickly. Bilbo, Legolas knew, had carried that Ring for many years by the mortal reckoning of such things, and he did not seem to have taken any hurt from it; that was a relief, for having now seen Gollum, Legolas had feared that he would find his father's friend likewise wizened and twisted by its evil power. But while Bilbo was indeed weakened and withered now, Legolas thought that he seemed no more so than any mortal was, when their short years began to run out. Perhaps Frodo, too, would be all right. Hobbits, it seemed, were indeed resilient as well as brave and clever.

He wondered if Celebrimbor would know more about that, and whether Frodo had dared to ask the Ring-maker for such details. He knew that they had often stood together during those long days of discussion and debate, but he did not know if they had spoken on such weighty matters.

His eyes were drawn away by the arrival of the two dwarves. Their bearded faces looked even more grim than did those of the Hobbits now as they walked up to join the others.

Glóin gave a start when he saw Celebrimbor, his eyes going very wide above his beard. Legolas chanced another glance at the elven-smith, following the aim of Glóin's eyes as he might track an arrow's flight, and found his gaze settling on Celebrimbor's braids.

They seemed a strange thing to stare at so intently, even as tedious and overwrought as their complicated plaits looked to Legolas's woodland eyes. But there was no doubting the target of Glóin's eyes.

Curious, Legolas looked back at the dwarf in time to see Glóin's hands raise and dance in some complex movement of broad, short fingers. Gimli moved his hands in an answering gesture. It was like Hunt Sign, Legolas realised, although they were not the motions that he knew from his forest. Too, it was a more complex sort of signing than any of his people's silent gestures: complex enough that Legolas fancied the dwarves might well be holding a whole conversation with their fingers.

That was a fascinating thought. There were some elves in Mirkwood who were either without speech, or hearing, or both; and they communicated with others mainly through a mixture of Hunt Sign for simple concepts and ((ósanwë)) for more complex thoughts, although they would sometimes write their words instead and let others read what could not be spoken aloud. Now Legolas wondered if an entire language—a full, proper language, not merely the few hundred simple gestures that made up Hunt Sign—might be crafted for hands to speak in lieu of tongues. He wondered how improper it would be to question Gimli about this unspoken language of dwarves, and whether he might somehow earn enough regard from his new companion to prove himself worthy of an answer.

Legolad stared now at the fluttering fingers of the two dwarves, marvelling at the deftness of their thick fingers, the grace of the quick and soundless movements of their strong, broad hands. Legolas did not know what they spoke with those swift gestures, of course, but he could guess at the rough intent at least: Glóin had asked a question, something about Celebrimbor, and Gimli was answering him. Even without understanding what was said, it was enthralling to watch the lyrical yet efficient movements—and then, quite without warning, Celebrimbor's long hands joined the conversation.

Legolas gaped, even as he was appalled by his own uncouth behaviour. He was somewhat mollified to notice that Glóin was staring at the elven-smith with equal shock, although he recovered from it faster than Legolas.

Glóin's hands moved through a quick, sharp question. Celebrimbor answered, his movements hesitant at first and then twisting so quickly that his long fingers almost seemed to blur. Some of the gestures looked strange upon his hands, having obviously been crafted for the use of shorter, wider digits; but Celebrimbor adapted the movements to his own proportions with an ease that looked long-practised. Whatever this silent tongue was called, it was clear that he knew it well.

Legolas was fascinated by the sight, and it was that which finally solved the mystery of Glóin's first shock for him. In watching the dwarves exchange their elegant hand-speak with the elven-smith, Legolas could not help looking closer at the speakers, too, and then he saw it: the braids that hung in Celebrimbor's hair, thick and intricate and far too elaborate a design to be suited for rough travel on a dangerous road, were the same sort of braids that Glóin and Gimli wore. Not the exact same plaits, no; but like enough in form and pattern that Legolas was irritated that he had not noticed their similarities sooner. He should have; but then, he had been trying to avoid looking or standing too close to Celebrimbor, and so he had not seen.

Now he could only wonder how the great Ring-maker came to have dwarven braids in his hair. He wondered, too, whether he might ever find enough courage to ask.

At that moment Elrond came out with Gandalf, with many others of his household following to bid their final farewells, and he called the Company to him. "This is my last word," Elrond said in a low voice. "The Ring-bearer and the Ring-maker are setting out on the Quest to Dol Guldur. On them alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, not to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need or at the last in the forging of its destruction in the workshops of the dread citadel. The others go with them as free companions, to help and guide and guard along the way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows or strategy demands. No oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," said Gimli.

"Maybe," said Elrond, "but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."

"Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart," said Gimli.

"Or trap it in a bitter ruin of destruction," Celebrimbor said harshly. "Do not cleave to oaths lightly, Gimli son of Glóin! For the world is full of strange paths and many perils, and you cannot know to what dark ends your vows may be twisted by the demands of what you swear to in the light. We go to seek destruction of an Enemy who is wise and cunning and treacherous; do not bring your own treachery with you in the words of oaths that may consume you as surely as any fire of His making."

Celebrimbor's voice was hollow and a terrible black shadow seemed to move behind the Treelight glow of his bright eyes. Gimli swallowed, and stepped back, and offered a small nod of understanding, or at least acquiescence. Celebrimbor's gaze was fixed on the dwarf, and his eyes blazed like a bonfire. Even Legolas shivered at the terrible fierceness of his gaze, and the Hobbits shrank back close to Bill, although Frodo did not turn away or blink even as he stared back at the towering elven-smith.

Elrond stepped forward and laid a hand on Celebrimbor's shoulder, and at once the fire of his eyes seemed to dwindle until in an eyeblink, only dull embers remained.

"Indeed," said Elrond, "I fear that many perils may yet await you. But look not too far ahead! Nor let fear weigh upon your steps even before the threat is faced, but rather go now with good hearts! Farwell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"

"Good…good luck!" cried Bilbo, stuttering the way mortals often did when they were cold. "I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be too long! Farewell!"

Glóin said something softly in a language that Legolas did not understand, but which he surmised must be the secret tongue of the dwarves; Gimli, his eyes very bright, gave his father first a former bow and then a hug before he fell into step with the rest of them, leaving Glóin and Bilbo standing side-by-side with Elrond to watch the departure of the Company.

They set out at last, with Gandalf in the lead. Aragorn, who knew the lands around Imladris well, walked beside him while Legolas, with his keen senses and experience as a hunter of the Enemy's foul creatures, took rearguard.

The elves of Elrond's household called soft goodbyes after them, but there was no laughter in their voices nor song or music to speed them on their way or lighten their steps upon the road. The dusk sank in low round them as they crossed the bridge and set up the winding paths that led out of the valley. As they crossed onto the high moor beyond, where the low dry shrubs were tossed by the unfettered winds, the last of the light faded and they walked forward into the night.

Much appreciated for the tag, @aroace-moron

Rules: make a 24h poll with the names of your wips, let it run its course, and then write a sentence for every vote the winner receives.

Tagging: @bifuriouswaterbender @roselightfairy @realtacuardach @sallysavestheday @mirkwood-hr-department @estel-of-the-eyrie

I apologize if any of you have already done this; I will not be back on my dash until that clown is gone (what the hellballs tumblr) so I haven't seen what anyone has blogged yet today, I'm sorry!

Feel free to @me to vote on your wips though, both you folks and anyone else who's doing this poll right now.

[wutheringmights]

How about Wind, for the ask meme

Another one of my favorite boys and should have more content surrounding him! Let's a-go!

What I love about them: Remember how I said that TP Link was my first? Phantom Hourglass Link was my second, so Wind has a special place in my heart (though I've never played Wind Waker shhhh). I am obsessed with Wind's meta-relationship with the Hero's Spirit. He both willingly embraced the role of a hero to save his sister and was manipulated into taking a mantel he shouldn't have by adults who had no problem involving a child in their schemes. He unknowingly subjects himself to Demise's curse because he didn't know better. The adult in his life he trusted didn't know either. Only we the audience know the implications of what he's done, but he doesn't. He has no idea what he's subjected himself to. And it's so tragic, but it makes for some great meta-storytelling.

What I hate about them: I know his entire brand is being the child of the Chain, but I think making him so young is a missed opportunity. He's not old enough to start questioning what's happened to him, and I want to see an older WW/PH Link reflecting on his earlier adventures so badly.

Favorite Moment/Quote: You know the scene where Wind and Time are talking about meeting Ganondorf, and Wind says that Ganondorf looked scared? That's the good kush.

What I would like to see more focus on: Unsurprisingly, I want more people to do more with Wind having a bit of a coming of age arc where he does confront the past, comes to terms with having to become a hero, and asks himself whether he really needs to bring Hyrule back or not.

What I would like to see less focus on: I want to see less of Wind feeling guilty for letting the King of Red Lions destroy Hyrule, or generally Wind admiring the Hyrules of the past. It's more interesting if traveling around all the different Hyrules makes him realize that he might prefer the Great Sea, even if the Great Sea was a punishment of the gods.

Favorite pairing with: Yeah.... I don't actually have a good ship for Wind. I honestly can't really see him ever being romantically involved with someone, even as he gets older. My adult headcanons for Wind involve him not liking being in relationships. So... aromantic Wind it is for me!

Favorite friendship: Linebeck! You thought I simped hard for Midna? I simp for Linebeck way more, and I love Linebeck and Wind's friendship. I honestly think post-WW/PH, Wind travels the ocean with Linebeck instead of Tetra. I don't really see them having a father/son relationship, though. They're equals, through and through. Linebeck respects Wind's experience and maturity (and probably is the only one with the wherewithal to tell Wind that his life experiences are not normal) while Wind probably can only relate to this washed out adventurer more than anyone else his age.

NOTP: Tetra/Link is a no-go for me, mostly because I don't really like Tetra. I want to like her so bad, but I just can't vibe with her and I can't abide by the implication of founding New Hyrule. I also think that her friendship with Wind falls apart when they reach adulthood. So, there you have it. I'm not too bugged by the pairing that I can't enjoy content with them in it, but it's not a part of my personal canon.

Favorite headcanon: I like the idea that Wind is the only Link who ever had a conversation with Ganondorf. Unlike everyone else who views Ganondorf as a irredeemable villain, Wind sympathizes with him and knows where he's coming from. And everyone scoffs at this because, of course a child would feel bad for the villain. At first, Wind thinks he might have been tricked by Ganondorf until he realizes one day that everyone else is either blinded by their bitterness towards the King of Evil or needs to believe that Ganondorf is unquestionably evil in order to justify their life experiences. And that realization is the mark of Wind beginning to grow up and let go of the idealism of the Hero of Courage.

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

The Second Choice

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x mermaid!Reader (A Spin on The Little Mermaid #3)

Summary: As the rebellious Princess of the Mers, you wanted the best of both worlds. You chose to live your life with endless adventures on land while still being able to fulfill your duties to the crown. Ransom just happens to feature in many of your adventures.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY SMUT CONTENT. so much adult language, cocky Ransom, unprotected semi-public fucking in human form, anal, degradation, praise, squirting, overstimulation, spanking, choking, ANGST, dubcon breeding, unprotected monster fucking, FLUFF, soft boy Ransom

Word Count: 8.1k (One Shot)

A/N: I did not expect this to turn out this way. I set out to write something completely different for Ransom but here we are. Enjoy! You don't need to read the first two, but it is recommended so that you can have a more wholistic experience with the lore and how they all connect together.

Full Masterlist | Story Book Collection Masterlist

Autumn has to be your favorite season and you prefer to spend it on land. There was nothing like laying down on a beach lounger with the cool salty ocean breeze blowing wrapped in a knitted sweater and sipping on a hot drink. You sighed happily as you sank down further on your lounger, stretching your legs out and wiggling your toes. Your short skirt blew with the wind and tickled your thighs as you stared fondly at the crashing waves of your private beach property in Malibu. You mulled over your life and your Kingdom underwater as you often did on quiet nights like this.

The second choice.

Being the second child of the Queen of the Seas earned you a certain level of privilege. It came with the title of royalty, a precious princess to the kingdom. It came with the respect of your species and the protection of the warriors, but you were always the second choice. Thank the gods for that. You were more than happy to revert all of that responsibility over to your older half brother Steve.

An heir and a spare.

Crown Prince Steven was by all means the epitome of a future King, exemplary in combat and sharp in wit with a natural inclination for leadership. You were the spare. Just like your mother was for your Uncle Andy. Unlike your family, you disagreed with many Merfolk traditions and you were considered as different.

A wild card.

A brat.

Rebellious.

Difficult.

One important thing you disagreed with was the treatment of humans. You knew the significance and you understood that it was essential for survival, but you were always conflicted and you refused to directly participate. Still your love and loyalty for your kind was strong and you were still duty bound. So you delegated yourself to a task not many wanted but one where you found purpose in.

Gatekeeper.

That was what they called this role, held by only a few since it was established. Since the Merfolk population was limited, everyone had a part to play. Yours was to be the link between land and sea. Early on your ancestors realized that your people needed a way to navigate the human world, a way to ensure safety when on land and resources to use. You held your hand out in front of you, the precious stones and luxurious metals glittering with the soft light of your backyard.

Jewelry.

There was no shortage of riches from the sea, riches apparently that humans were willing to pay hefty amounts for. Your ancestors partnered with a poor fishing couple who were good of heart, but desperately struggling to feed their children. The agreement was that this family help the Merfolk on land and to keep their existence a secret in exchange for unlimited riches for generations to come and the protection of the Merfolk. From this partnership grew a global conglomerate that was now a household name for high end jewelry and ocean conservation.

The profit and influence from this company enabled your people to live and move comfortably on land. Your job was to maintain the relationship with your human partners and to ensure all Merfolk that came on land were well equipped and safe. They went to you first and you ensured safe passage for them.

You took a long sip from your drink, letting the warmth spread through your body with a satisfied hum. It has been a busy week for you with the launch of a new line of designs and a slew of promotional parties. There was still more work to be done so it was nice to have time to relax.

So deep in thought were you and in a comfortable cocoon that you didn’t realize a large shadow slowly drawing nearer behind you. If you were paying more attention, you would have heard the soft click as your back door opened. You would have heard the light padding of expensive loafers. You would have caught the scent of designer cologne.

It wasn’t until a hand clamped over your mouth that your body went on high alert. Your cup flew out of your hand and smashed against the wood of the deck, your screaming muffled by the hand. Your heart pounded frantically as you thrashed in an effort to be released. An amused chuckle halted your struggle and the smirking face that lowered to your view turned the fear to exasperated annoyance.

“Ransom, you fucking asshole!” you shrieked as you smacked his arm repeatedly. “You scared me!”

“You should have seen your face,” he laughed as he sat down beside you, pulling you onto his lap to kiss you breathless. “Your housekeeper let me in before she left.”

One hand was on the back of your head, keeping you in place as he continued to kiss you. You moaned as his tongue battled with yours, his forcefulness sending heat to your core immediately. His other hand was gripping your hip, moving you to press closer to his growing erection.

“You’re such a dick,” you mumbled, as he moved his mouth to your neck.

“You like this dick,” he chuckled, lifting you to properly straddle him and angling his hips to grind against you. “You miss this dick.”

He wasn’t wrong. He was a cocky dick but he gave good dick. Ever since you met him a couple of years ago at a party in Massachusetts, you couldn’t help but find his arrogant snarky personality entertaining. He was so brashly honest and uncaring of what other people thought of him that you found it oddly appealing as you traded witty comebacks back and forth. It helped that he also looked delicious and you just happened to need someone to warm your bed that night.

What was meant to be just a one night stand turned into a habitual no strings attached arrangement when three months later you saw each other again by chance at another party. You only got as far as the ballroom’s ornate bathroom that time and it took a while for your legs to be able to support you much to his smug satisfaction. From then on whenever you were in the same city, you sought each other out.

“You’re wet already, aren’t you?” he said as his hand slipped beneath your skirt, his thumb sneaking under your panties and swiping against your folds. “Dripping. I could probably just shove my cock in this pussy with no fight.”

“Ransom,” you whined, your hips moving in search of more friction.

“Impatient little brat. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so desperate for my cock.”

“Fuck me or get the fuck out of my house, Ransom.”

He chuckled when your threats melted into sighs as he pushed his thumb inside you, shallowly fucking you in a way that was no where near enough. He loved to tease you. A big part of what turns him on about you is how you fight back, meeting his own demanding nature with your own stubborn one. Getting a win over each other was sometimes better than the orgasm that follows, but nothing compared to the image of having you an angry whimpering mess beneath him.

He pulled his thumb out and popped it in his mouth, making a show of twirling his tongue around your arousal that was coating his finger. He kept your gazes locked the whole time, noting how your breath hitched and your eyes darkened.

“Still the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he hummed. “Quiet now, aren’t you?”

The small growl you let out amused him to no end and he wanted to keep riling you up, but the tightening in his pants was becoming urgent. He smacked your ass and dumped you back on the lounger before he stood.

“Hands and knees.”

You wanted to let out a sharp remark or roll your eyes at his commanding tone, anything to antagonize him but the sight of his big beautiful cock out made your mouth water. You maneuvered yourself around just as he asked, opening your mouth for him in anticipation.

“Good girl,” he said, running the tip of his cock lightly along your lips. “Show me how much of a whore you are for this cock.”

He slipped his cock into your mouth, easing in until his full length was hitting the back of your throat. He let out a long low groan, one hand firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. His pace started slow until he was thrusting into your mouth with the sole purpose of using you for his pleasure.

“Fuck. That's right. Take that cock just how I taught you.”

You relaxed your throat and flattened your tongue, staring up at him to encourage him to be rougher with you. You can take it. You could always take him. Watching him lose himself in your mouth made your pussy clench, his eyes burning with lust and his jaw ticking. You rubbed your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs. You couldn’t help it. He just looked so good with that feral look in his blue eyes. Blue eyes that now flashed in anger down at you.

You felt his fingers dig into the back of your head as a resounding crack shocked you forward making you choke on his cock, your bottom stinging from two more quick slaps that followed. You yelped, the sound garbled and muffled as you were pressed close to his pelvis. His fingers forcing their way inside you with no warning.

“Greedy. Little. Brat.”

Each word was punctuated with a sharp jerk of his hips and a twist of his fingers inside you. Your slick was dripping down your thighs and soaking his hand, your pussy was pulsing and clenching. More. You needed more. Your hips began to wind and push against his hand earning you a dark chuckle from above you.

“You’re just such a desperate slut, aren’t you?” he said, his tone mocking you.

He groaned as you swallowed around him, your eyes meeting his and glinting with mischief. You knew how to press his buttons too. He pulled himself out of you suddenly and grabbed you by the neck to raise your face to his, spit shining around your mouth and chin.

“That how you wanna play today, princess?”

You smirked, the nickname carrying a certain irony given how Ransom didn’t know how accurate it actually was. You leaned your face closer and ran your hands up the soft texture of his sweater, fearlessly meeting his fury to nip on his plump bottom lip before slowly pulling back and winking devilishly at him.

The growl he let out sent a new wave of arousal through you, the electricity buzzing down your spine as he crashed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. You moaned against his mouth, gasping as he pushed you off him. He manhandled you until you were on all fours again with your ass up for him, ripping your skirt and panties off in one go. He kept your loose cable knit sweater on though, loving how soft you felt all over.

You jolted forward as you felt him spit on your cunt, spreading it around with your slick up to your puckered hole. His thumb slipped in with little resistance and your body sagged as you welcomed it.

“Ransom,” you whined.

He hummed. Toying with your back entrance as he rubbed the head of his cock against your soaking core. Your pussy wept and clenched, your whole body screaming to be stuffed. The moment the head of his cock breached you, all thoughts flew out of your mind except for the feel of his girth stretching your walls in a way no other man or merman has ever done for you.

“God, you’re tight,” he grunted as he bottomed out. “But you’re taking me so well, princess. Like you’re made to take this cock.”

“More. Harder, Ransom,” you moaned.

He tutted at you as he continued with his infuriatingly languid pace, one hand gripping your hip to keep you locked in place. The bruises will be a nice thing to wake up to tomorrow. His thumb in your ass kept pressing in, contributing to your pleasure but it still wasn’t enough.

“Come on, princess. You know what to say.”

“Fuck!” you screamed as he rolled his hips, reaching deeper inside you and building up that fire inside you just a bit more. “Just fuck me harder, you goddamn prick.”

“You know what I wanna hear,” he chuckled. Another roll of his hips and your legs were starting to quiver with the tension. “Say it.”

“Please,” you muttered under your breath.

The hand on your hip gripped tighter and his hips snapped sharply, the sound of your skin meeting drowned by your yelp. “Say it louder.”

You gritted your teeth, your stubborn head telling you to disobey. Your body was shaking now, teetering over the edge of an almost orgasm. Another sharp thrust, pushing hard into both your holes, had your resolve crumbling.

“Please, Ransom. Take me harder, please.”

You turned your head and caught the slow smirk curve on his face and the excitement of knowing rippled through you. All at once his pace changed drastically, pounding into you until you were practically falling through the lounger. You screamed your pleasure into the night, falling instantly into your first orgasm.

“Good girl,” he panted from behind you, his thrusts not slowing even as you continued convulsing beneath him. “Keep going.”

The smug bastard kept fucking you through to another rippling orgasm, his thumb joined now by another finger to prep you for what he wanted next. He bit down on his lip to stave off his own release, but your walls pulsing around him and your mewling was making it difficult. He grabbed you by the neck and pulled you up flush against him as he pulled out of you, your weakened body grateful for the support.

His cock was glistening with your cum, aiding in his entrance through your puckered hole. His hand around your throat tightened, just as tight as your walls around his cock. You felt his hot breath around your ear as he groaned in satisfaction. His other hand trailed down your overheated body to spear his fingers through your weeping core. The curses and pleading just kept spilling from your lips.

“This is how you like it. Right, princess?” he said as his fingers pushed and tapped relentlessly inside you, hitting that spongy spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You like me stuffing both your holes where the neighbors could just look out their windows and see how much of a slut you are for me? Come on then, princess.”

His hands and cock worked in complete synchrony to deliver you to your ruin; digging, prodding, scissoring, pushing, pounding, and choking you just right. Your sweater drooped down your shoulder and his mouth took it as an invitation to latch on, biting and sucking his stamp of ownership over you. You could feel the coil impossibly tighten, already on the brink of snapping completely.

“Make a mess for me.”

You keened sharply as ecstasy consumed you, your vision exploding with fireworks and tears. Your whole body shook violently with pleasure as your release continuously drenched the once pristine white cushion beneath you, his hand rubbing and slapping now at your throbbing clit.

"Fuck. That's it," he groaned. "Goddamn, you feel good."

You could vaguely hear the string of profanities and praise he let out as he railed into your ass in time with the thundering in your ears. He pulled you back with a hard bite down on your shoulder as he emptied himself inside you with a feral roar.

For a while, no words were exchanged between you. There was only heavy panting, heartbeats that struggled to slow, and hands that roamed lazily. He turned your head to catch your lips in a slow kiss that made you shiver. It was the complete opposite of the manner he just took you, but was always welcome. He pulled out of you and drew you back to sit between his legs, his hands slipping beneath your sweater to palm at your breasts with interest.

“I didn’t know you were in town,” you said as you leaned further back against him.

“Charles Blackwood was having a birthday party in LA. Got bored.” He tweaked your nipple and your back arched. “Knew I’d have more fun here.”

“Not enough strippers for your taste?” you teased. “How long are you here for?”

“About a week,” he whispered against your ear, nibbling on your lobe and sneaking his tongue in. “Glad I caught you before your annual trip with your family. Can’t have you craving my cock for too long.”

“Just in time then. I leave in two weeks.” Your hand reached behind to card through his hair, pulling and scratching lightly at his scalp. He groaned and grinded his hips forward, his manhood starting to grow again. “Plenty of time for you to put your smart mouth to better use. I have some business meetings but I’m mostly free.”

“Oh, princess. Don’t make plans just yet.” He pulled your sweater over your head and tossed it aside, before he lifted you up into his arms and into your house. You laughed against his neck, your arms clinging to him. “I’m not even halfway done with you tonight.”

He caught sight of a few loose pearls on the lounger that he just assumed must have gotten knocked off from one of the pieces you were wearing. They hardly registered when he had your willing body pressed against his.

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

He didn’t leave until noon the next day, leaving you thoroughly sated and sore, but it would be a couple of days later when he came back. You were busy arranging your things for the meeting you needed to get to, checking the essentia paperwork to bring and shoving your belongings into your purse.

Ransom walked in like he owned the place and grinned at the business attire you were wearing that highlighted your body perfectly. You were beautiful in anything you wore, there was a fiery radiance to you and a presence that was captivating, but seeing you dressed like this made you look powerful and in charge. His cock was already hardening and he hasn’t even touched you yet. He couldn’t wait to rip it off you.

“Hey, princess. Busy today?” he smirked as he sauntered over to you.

He abruptly halted before he could reach you when another man came into the room, dressed similarly to you and frowning at the tie he was struggling with in his gloved hands. He was tall and wide, built like a brick wall with icy blue eyes and sharp bone structure. Ransom noted that his hair was still damp, an obvious sign that he got ready here.

He scowled when their eyes met, a sudden wave of possessiveness taking him by surprise when the other man stood far too closely to you for his liking. You were oblivious to the death stare match they were having, too busy thinking of the tasks needed to be accomplished today.

“Ransom this is Bucky. Bucky this is Ransom,” you casually introduced them, taking the tie from Bucky and fixing it for him hurriedly. The intimate yet familiar gesture made Ransom’s jaw clench. “Wait for me in the car, Buck. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Are you sure, princess?”

Ransom growled at the use of the term. That was his pet name for you. It infuriated him how you didn’t even react to another man calling you that. You were by no means exclusive with each other. You weren’t dating. You also made no promises that this arrangement would lead to anything else. It suited you both since you weren’t ones to be tied down, but neither of you had seen the other with someone else.

It was hypocritical of Ransom particularly since he was still upholding his reputation as a playboy and you weren’t exactly waiting around for the next time your paths crossed. That was the deal, but Ransom never did do well with sharing. You weren’t his, but for the first time since he met you he thought that maybe he wanted you to be.

As soon as Bucky was out the door, Ransom’s furious expression was on you and his low snarl froze you on the spot. “Who the fuck was that?”

“What the hell is your problem? I told you that was Bucky.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” he growled in your face. “Who is he to you, princess?”

You were surprised by this unexpected outburst and the venom in his use of the pet name made you flinch, but you weren’t one to back down. This princess bows to no one. You lifted your chin and met his gaze unflinchingly as the realization began to dawn on you.

Ransom was jealous.

Bucky was a Queen's Guard who regularly would check up on you and the other Merfolk onshore. This time around he also escorted a few of your people to you and helped send them on their way. This afternoon he was accompanying you to meet with the human family you were bonded with. He was also your older brother’s closest friend, a mainstay in your life since childhood. Ransom had no reason to be jealous of him, but you were in no mood to pander to his childish behaviour.

“He’s a family friend.”

“I can see just how friendly you two are,” he scoffed.

“What if we are?” you challenged him. “That’s none of your business.”

“Like hell it isn’t! Are you really that much of a cock hungry whore that you can’t even go two days without looking for something to fill your cunt?”

The crack of your hand as it met his cheek threw the room into a tense silence. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you struggled to control your indignation, hot tears stinging your eyes. Never had anyone spoken to you this way. Never had Ransom used those words on you with malice and you hated to admit to yourself that it hurt you more than you expected.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t get to make me feel bad when you’re not exactly discreet about your conquests,” you shot back, mirroring the rage that was evident on his face. “You don’t get to judge me when your bullshit is splashed across gossip blogs on a regular basis. You even went viral for your dick pic on Instagram. Good for you.”

“You. Vicious. Little. Bitch.”

You sneered at how the veins on his neck were popping with each punctuated word. He was shaking with barely restrained fury, his fists clenched at his sides and a small bleeding cut on his cheek from the ring you wore on your hand that struck him. Good. If you weren’t so furious, you would have thought that anger just made him more attractive.

“You do not own me,” you spat, taking a confident step toward him. “Now if you’re quite done with your temper tantrum, I have a meeting to get to. You can wait here for me to come back in a few hours and we can talk when you’ve calmed down. ”

“You must be insane to think I’d wait here for you like some puppy.”

“Fine. Then don’t.” You threw your hands in the air in dismissal. “Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”

You grabbed your things and marched toward the door. You looked at him one last time, your face turning oddly sad before you fixed it to one of icy indifference.

“Goodbye, Ransom.”

The door slammed behind you with a finality that echoed in the now empty room where he still stood. He wasn’t sure which was more bruised, his cheek or his pride.

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

You expected Ransom to not be there when you got back, but it still stung when you came home to an empty house. Out of all the many properties your kind owned on land this mansion was your favorite which was why you chose this as your permanent residence. Built and decorated with the thought that it was an extension of the sea, with its open spacious interiors in a coastal design and a backyard with a large pool that led to the private beach. It always felt comfortable and welcoming to you. It felt like home.

Now as your heels clicked on the wood floors, you feel for the first time how empty it was. Even as you opened more lights and drew back curtains, the large house still felt cold and you felt it seep into your chest. Your free spirited lifestyle ensured endless parties, countless interactions with humans, a freedom to travel as you wished, work that was a passion for you, and a string of lovers. You had the best of both worlds and the privilege to enjoy it to the fullest. You could hardly say that you were alone, but now somehow you felt lonely. Your chosen independence, just earlier filled with gratification, now left you feeling unfulfilled.

Was it really all because of Ransom?

The answer came almost two weeks later. Two weeks of constantly checking your phone for any calls or messages only to be disappointed because both of you were too prideful to reach out first. You suspected that he would have already gone home when a week went by and there was still no sign of him. The internet gossip blog you stumbled on confirmed it. You would deny to anyone who asked that you were looking for news about him. He was back in Massachusetts with a new girl on his arm at another party. It hurt. That you couldn't deny.

Yes. It was all because of Ransom.

A life of fun and endless possibilities, but with no one to share it with. It never bothered you before, but Ransom's absence from your life had more of an impact than you anticipated. He made you laugh with his ranting about his insufferable family. He complimented you on your new designs, always sending a quick congratulatory message on each new launch. He even challenged your decisions in business matters you had shared. He wasn't romantic but he had a habit of bringing you his favorite biscuits when he came to visit. He would say it was because you had subpar taste in after sex snacks, but he always ended up feeding you most of it and licking the crumbs from your lips. The sex itself was not just mind blowing, but he had opened you up to more exploration.

Despite how little time you actually spent together, you realize now how comfortable you were with him. You realize just how much you enjoyed his company, that you actually looked forward to it. You realize now that you surprisingly trusted that spoiled overgrown child of a man.

And you realize now that you were in love with him.

You groaned and cussed at yourself. It was absurd. You knew how stupid it was. It was also equally idiotic to have postponed your trip back to your kingdom in the disillusioned hope that he might still call you. Your spirit was waning and your body was terribly weakened, your magic struggling to maintain your human form.

You stripped off your clothes and elegantly dove into the pool, reaching deep before you twirled and a soft glow enveloped you. You sighed in relief as your legs morphed into your tail, the pain you had been feeling the last few days lifting temporarily and yet your chest still felt heavy with the last conversation you had with Ransom. You took your time circling the depths of your expansive swimming pool, allowing yourself to recover as much as it could but at this point you had no choice now but to leave tonight.

Merfolk power came from the sea and prolonged separation weakened you. Your annual trips back to your kingdom were born out of necessity, a way to recharge your magic and strength where Mer magic was the strongest for you to be able to return to shore again. If you don’t go tonight, your magic will dissolve and your body will waste away.

You will die.

However, this time you were as reluctant to leave as you were to come back. What would be the point of coming back? There was suddenly no more joy in your life here and truthfully you don’t think you can take seeing more news of Ransom or risk running into him. Perhaps it was time to talk to your mother. Perhaps it was time to find a different purpose for you.

Your head popped up out of the surface, sighing heavily and staring forlornly at the night sky. You would miss the sky. It was one of your favorite things about the shore. You could spend hours just watching the colors change from the dusky sunrise to the clear blue to the stormy grays to the fiery sunsets. Your favorite was the bright blue of morning, filled with the choice of a day of adventures ahead or lazy musings. The possibilities were endless with the morning sky. It would now remind you painfully of Ransom, but you were decided. You’ve had a good run on shore. You’ve lived your life as you pleased without the burden of your title holding you back.

It was time to be a proper princess for your kingdom.

“So this is your secret.”

Your eyes widened as you turned toward the voice, your tail automatically carrying you to the edge to hide yourself. It was no use though. He had already seen everything and as you stared up at him, you couldn’t help the thrill of seeing him again or the wistful smile that curved your lips that you were quick to tamp down.

“Ransom.”

“You’re a mermaid.”

Your face dropped and your eyes turned downcast, trying hard to avoid his gaze as if it could hide your secret from him. As if it were shameful. When Ransom stepped out onto your backyard, he could hardly make sense of what he was seeing. He must be high, but as he watched you swim so gracefully beneath the surface he became more and more mesmerized by your movements. He was hypnotized by how the color of your tail shone with the subtle lights of your home and the gentle silver of the moon. It made the flaming hues of your lower half stand out more, like a bursting sunset of red and gold. He was caught by your beauty the moment he first saw you, but this was different.

You were enchanting.

You had enchanted him from the start and he now knew why. It explained how he was so magnetically drawn to you. How you had kept his attention where all else had failed. How you kept creeping into his mind when you were apart. How he craved you. It told him that it was never a choice, he would never have been able to resist you even if he wanted to.

He really never wanted to.

He almost thought it unfair. You were magical and he was human. He was a lost cause from the start, but while it explained much it didn’t cover everything. It didn’t explain why he relished your laughter or admired your work ethic. It didn’t explain why he genuinely liked to hear your stories. It didn’t explain how he could be comfortable enough to be honest with you. It didn’t explain the possessive surge he felt that day you fought or what made him say those words that were meant to hurt you.

In a move that was wholly out of character for him, he bent down to capture your chin in his hand and turn your gaze back to him. His other hand traced the elaborate gold band that circled your head with countless rare pearls and precious gems that dripped down to your hair.

A princess.

“You’re an actual princess too, aren’t you? That’s why that brooding asshole called you that last time,” he chuckled, the sound fraying your nerves. You weren’t sure whether he was mocking you or he was genuinely amused, but you couldn’t seem to look away. Not when for two weeks you wanted nothing more than to see him.

“You know there are rumors that the secret silent partner in your company is actually a Mafia clan,” he laughed loudly this time. “I guess swimming with the fishes has a different meaning to you.”

Your lips twitched in a barely contained smile before your head tilted to the side in confusion. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

“It makes sense,” he shrugged dismissively.

You barked your laughter, the nerves you were feeling earlier suddenly expelled with each breath and the lingering anger from your last interaction pushed aside for the time being. You shook your head, but leaned over the edge and craned your neck upwards to keep his eyes. His gorgeous aqua eyes that you now realized didn’t hold what you normally would expect from someone faced with what was known only as myth. There was no ill intent, fear, or disgust. They were cocky and playful just like Ransom always was with you. What was new was what was unexpectedly lining it.

Affection.

“I fail to see what part of this makes any type of fucking sense, Ransom,” you smiled as you flicked your fins up to the surface to emphasize your point.

For a moment he was transfixed with how your tail was lazily swishing before he looked back at you and there was that affection again that was making your face heat up. “The secrecy. How you don’t keep a public profile despite making the big decisions in the company. You actually own the damn company, don’t you?”

You nodded sheepishly and he chuckled again. His fingers travelled lightly along one string of pearls that decorated your head. “That also explains why you happen to be the only ones able to sell these kinds of pearls. They’re so rare. You can’t tell me how they’re made right?”

“Maybe. Someday. It’s a secret of the Mers,” you grinned cheekily. His smile grew at the thought that there was a someday, that he hadn’t already completely ruined things with you. “Still doesn’t explain how easily you’re accepting all of this though.”

“You forget that Harlan is a novelist and I grew up around his incessant rambling about literature,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes at the thought of his family. “Every design you put out has a little story about Merfolk. I thought it was a cool gimmick at first, but something about it always struck me as intimate. Like it was personal. You wrote them yourself, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you admitted quietly. You bit your lip nervously as you braced yourself to ask a more difficult question. “You honestly don’t find all this too strange?”

“Are you kidding me?” he laughed loudly. “My girlfriend’s a fucking mermaid!”

You felt your face heat up again at the sudden declaration. He’s called you many things, but he’s never called you that. Neither of you have ever acknowledged whatever you had as anything more than convenient fucking.

Still, why did it make your heart flutter?

“Wow. Got you speechless for once and I didn’t even need to choke you with my cock this time,” he snickered, enjoying the flustered look on your face and bringing his face closer to yours. So close that your noses were brushing and you could feel his long lashes on your wet cheeks.

“What? You don’t like being called my girlfriend, princess?”

“Ransom, I -”

“Marry me.”

You were stunned speechless and your instinct told you to recoil. It told you to run, but Ransom caught your wrist before you could retreat from him.

“You can’t be serious, Ransom,” you shook your head.

“Oh I’m completely serious, princess.”

“You’re fucking insane! You can’t possibly think that’s a good idea.”

He leaned away from you, dropping your hand as he stood to his full height. Your eyes widened when you saw him slowly strip his clothes. He threw them unceremoniously on the day beds, keeping eye contact with you and smirking at how your expression was somewhere between confused and aroused at the sight of him completely naked.

“Let me show you how good of an idea it is.”

It must be the fatigue of your power fading that you didn’t react fast enough when he dove into the water and dragged you under. The next thing you know, Ransom had you caged in his arms and his lips were on yours. You yelped against his mouth when you felt him pull at one nipple until it went hard beneath his touch. He flashed you another smug look before he stole another kiss and propelled you both up to the surface.

“Marry me,” he said the moment you broke air, crowding you against the edge of the pool. His hands roaming all across your body, exploring the new texture of your skin. “God, you’re so hot like this.”

“Ransom,” you gasped as his mouth moved to suck and nip along your throat, your neck instinctively dropping back to give him more access. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

He groaned as he felt your hands card through his hair and pull at the strands, unable to resist the attraction that was always so strong between you. He held you in place by your ass and pressed his throbbing erection against you. He bit hard into the sensitive juncture at the base of your neck and smiled against the newly forming bruise when he felt your fins curl around his leg to bring him closer. You could take any form and he would still know how to make your body sing for him.

“I don’t know about that. I think I like the idea of being a prince,” he laughed, his breath tickling your ear and sending shivers across your skin. “Marry me.”

His hands travelled lower, trailing fire all over your body as he groped at your breasts and gripped at your curves. His fingers soon reached below your pelvis and you would think that he had experience with mermaid anatomy by how fast he found your veiled entrance. It was your sharp inhale though and the way your fingers dug into his back that gave you away when he brushed against your core. He slipped his fingers past the pliant part of your tail and straight into your pulsating core.

“Fuck,” he growled. It was so different, somehow even more wet and tighter than you usually were. “I can’t wait to stick my cock in there, princess. Marry me.”

You moaned his name and shook your head even as his fingers were making your hips move in search of more. “We can’t.”

You keened when he found that spot inside you that had your resolve hanging by a thread. You tried to hang on to your reasoning. You tried to remind yourself that neither of you were the marrying type. Neither of you were the commitment type. You were both selfish and self-indulgent.

His free hand came around your throat, forcing you to look at him as he unraveled you with his fingers. You saw the determined set of his jaw and the burning desire in his eyes. He wanted you.

Every version of you.

“That’s it. Don’t you want me as your prince?” he teased as his pace quickened until he felt you were on the brink of climax. “Marry me, princess. Let go for me now.”

You came hard, your voice carrying like a melody through your freefall. Ransom was dead set on your ruin and convincing you to be with him. He needed to show you how good you were together. His painfully hard cock swiftly replaced his fingers and he felt like he was going to cum on the spot by just how you felt. It was out of this world. You were still mid orgasm and it was driving him into a frenzy how your walls were pulsing around him.

“I didn’t think your cunt could get any better. Goddamn.”

“Ransom,” you panted, nearing delirium now from pleasure. “Fuck me please. I need it. Please, I need it.”

The growl he let out was animalistic as he hammered into you, your mouths fusing and your tongues battled in between incoherent chanting of each other’s names. You were absolutely lost in each other, the water violently splashing from your crude movements. It wasn’t long before you were teetering over the edge again, one sharp snap of his hips sending you spiralling into bliss.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he grunted, his pace starting to falter as he neared his own end. “I’m gonna fill you up, princess. If you don’t wanna be my wife right now then you can be the mother of my brats first.”

You clenched around him at the thought and his hips stuttered. A small voice in the back of your mind warned you. If he came inside you right now in this form and in your vulnerable state, he would surely succeed in his task.

“Ransom, you can’t,” you protested weakly, still reeling from your climax and already building toward another.

“I can, princess,” he chuckled darkly as he continued to rail hard into you. “And I will. You want this too. I’m making you mine.”

The authority in his voice threw you into your next release, your walls milking him for all he would offer and pulling him into his own finish. He kissed you hard as he continued to pump his seed inside you, making sure every drop was pushed deep.

His lips slowly parted from yours, but he didn’t go far. He rested his forehead against yours, his twitching cock still nestled inside you, and his hands cupping your face with an unexpected tenderness that was mirrored in his eyes.

“Marry me.”

Through the jumbled mess of your thoughts, you scrambled again for your reasoning. You both were spoiled and wanted it all. You both valued your independence and freedom to have fun as you wished. You both walked away from each other during that fight. You both hurt each other. As if reading your mind, he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks to calm your protests before he spoke.

“After the fight, I spent a lot of time thinking. I was ready to just bury myself in the next pussy I see and forget all about you,” he started gently. “Then I found out we were all getting cut off from my grandfather’s will. All I am is my money and without that who am I? I went into a dark place, princess.”

You saw him struggle with his words and your heart softened at this rare show of vulnerability. He’s never shown this side of him to you. Whatever he shared with you was always with his brand of humor and sarcasm. You suspected that he never showed it to anyone. You appreciated how difficult this was for him to open up to you. Your hands ran soothingly along his arms, a silent encouragement for him to continue.

“I was going to do something that I would have regretted. I was going to do something that would have destroyed me completely. All for money. All for the pride of a Thrombey,” he swallowed, pausing for a moment to steady himself. He would never be able to fully put into words what you pulled him back from doing. What you stopped him from becoming. “But one thing kept holding me back from going through with it.”

“Me?” you asked quietly.

“Yes, princess,” he gave you a small smile and kissed the tip of your nose. “I’m sorry I said those things to you. I regret them. I didn’t mean a single word. You were the first person I wanted to talk to after I found out about the will. You were the only person I wanted to see. You still are. That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I love you, you fucking idiot,” he chuckled. “I was fully willing to say to hell with my family and the money. None of what I thought was important before is anymore. Not after you.”

Your hands slid to loop around his neck and tangle themselves in his wet hair, smiling at the thought that just before he came you had the exact same epiphany that he had. What mattered then didn’t matter anymore. Not if you weren’t together. You had changed each other and neither of you even knew it was happening.

“So, Ransom Drysdale, the trust fund playboy.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes at your teasing. “You love me?”

“I just said that!”

“Well I wanna hear it again!”

“God, you’re so high maintenance,” he groaned in mock exhaustion though there was no venom in his tone, only an indulgent smirk on his lips.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you snorted.

“We’re not even married yet and you’re already nagging at me.”

“Excuse me?!”

He crashed his lips to yours, laughing as he kissed you breathless and his stomach fluttering in amusement at how you were smacking his chest in annoyance. Exactly this. He wanted exactly this for the rest of his life.

With you.

“We’re getting married next week. I don’t want any of my family to come. They can all eat shit. We’re eloping.”

“I didn’t say yes, you asshole.”

He scoffed and pinned you with a raised eyebrow. “You’re really an idiot if you think it was ever a choice.”

The laugh faded from your lips as you remembered the journey you needed to make and by the look on his face, he seemed to realize the same thing. He also realized now that the truth of your nature was revealed that it must mean more than just a yearly family trip.

“You have to leave,” he said sadly, suddenly deflated. “When?”

“Tonight. I’m too weak to stay on land for much longer. I need to go back.”

“Then marry me right fucking now. I want to know you’re going to come back,” he swallowed, vulnerability again flashing in his eyes but now coupled with his stubborn firmness. “I need to know you’re coming back to me.”

“How?”

“I don’t give a shit how,” he smirked as he fiddled with his hand, slipping off the signet ring that he always wore on his pinky.

You couldn’t help giggling as he struggled to somehow fasten it on your crown, carefully making sure that his ring was secure and prominent among the many adornments. It was just so ridiculous and yet it made your heart swell with joy and your eyes fill with tears.

“There. We’re married now.”

You beamed at him and from the opposite side of his ring, you broke off a winding piece of gold and fastened it around his pinky. You lifted his hand up to your face, closing your eyes as tears streaked down your cheek to land on the makeshift ring. You closed your hands over it for a moment and when again revealed, Ransom was shocked to see a pearl now attached to it.

“We’re married now. I love you too.”

He crashed his lips to yours, overwhelmed by the love and awe that he was feeling for you. You were his now. It didn’t matter to him if it was real or made up. It just mattered that you were his and he was yours. You would return and when you did, he was going to marry you in every conceivable ceremony there was in this world and yours.

Bless, Bless

This unity once wished

A joining of land and sea

Finally achieved

Not a choice of one or the other

But of both to prosper

You both smiled as you parted, the blessing of the ancients anchoring you in permanence with each other. You knew for sure now that you would return and his parting words made you all the more eager to do so.

“I’ll be here waiting.”

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

[luimagines]

Hey, I’m not sure how to explain this but getting straight to the point, I’m the person who runs the yandere-linked-universe blog and I’m pretty sure you’re pinkittwice.

So, I was just wondering what ideas you might have about the chain being yandere for one person. Like, what would the dynamic be and how they would behave as yanderes, you know that kind of stuff.

I hope it’s not too much to ask but I’m just curious to see what you might think of it since you’re pretty much the only person on the sight that I know of who also writes things involving lu and the reader. I’m not unhappy or dissatisfied in any way but it does get a little lonely being the only person who writes stuff like this. Sorry if this is too weird.

Masterlist

Yahaha~! You found me!

Everybody go check out their stuff @yandere-linked-universe

They do cool art sometimes and are even writing a whole fic which you can find right here.

It's really well written and I'm excited to see how the story progresses and where it goes- especially endgame.

And I'm assuming the ask means if they were yandere in the same circumstance than in the story.

That being said, I'm still going to apply the rules I have set for the Links. Like how Sky was never with his Zelda and similarly how Time and Malon never really happened. As for Wind, he will not be platonic unlike in the fic mentioned above- I will explain this in his section I promise.

Also, disclaimer, I'm not good at horror and I've never written for these types of characters before. But if you want headcanons then I'll provide the brainstorm that I've been cooking up of ever since I got this ask. (And it was a while ago I'm sorry for the wait.)

I'm also including some songs that I think best fit their rose tinted glasses ideal. Not necessarily yandere and can apply to Link being in love with you in general but it's as close as I'm going to get to making a playlist.

I might come back and change them to stalker songs and add these songs to a separate list entirely but maybe not...

Content under the cut!

It's long, brace yourself.

As a group, I think jealously would run high.

Everybody wants the attention of a single person and there's eight other people as competition.

If the group was tight knit as we like to portray them, it won't last long.

If dear reader was a little caring or naturally falls into a healer/medic position in the group, the group becomes more reckless, less caring about their personal safety- if only to get a momentary caress from the love of their life's fingers as their wounds are tended to.

There's less group unity and alliances between them form.

If the reader isn't a fighter well...

They would take turns guarding their prize and fight to be the one to do it.

Leaving you behind when they go to dungeons is a must.

They won't risk you getting a scratch on your person let alone putting you in a potentially dangerous situation.

They try to keep all their weapons away and out of reach. Less you get any ideas and try to fight with them or worse, get hurt playing with them.

Or try to fight against them. HAHAHAHA!! How crazy would that be?

Like you would stand a chance.

When you're simply traveling with the group, your designated spot is on top of Epona, hands down, no questions asked.

Not only would be easier to keep an eye on you, and make it harder to get away, but Twilight has personally asked Epona (through Wolfie) that if they were ever ambushed, she was to take off with you and get away from the fight no matter the cost. She'll always come back to him anyway- so if you're tied to connected to her than all the more reason for him to be the one to retrieve you when it's all over.

The others don't like how Twilight gets to be the one to greet you first. But Epona is on Twilight's side and everyone knows it.

So they wait their turn.

You're on top of Epona even if you're a fighter as well.

If you can prove your salt and fight with them, they actually don't try to keep you away as much as they can (because now it means that they can spend more time with you!)

It instead becomes a competition to be your partner. Among the younger ones anyway.

The older ones, are less concerned now by you fighting, and more by the younger ones who keep trying to be by your side (even if that's their spot) and try to keep them out of your way.

Every bump and cut you get is treated immediately by who ever reaches you first.

It's once again a race.

The group, as yandere's go, do not know how annoying they're being nor do they plan to stop.

If you told stories of your past conquests, it a mixed bag of awe, adoration and anger for you even being put there to begin with. These thoughts are not voiced however, and they instead stew and simmer and grow into their possessive tendencies.

Because they would protect you, honor you, worship you and you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again. Not if you were with them, not if you stayed with them, not if you were in their Hyrule.

There's a slight knee jerk reaction when you bring out your items to take it away because it's dangerous. But not only would that piss you off, it would take away what little protection you have on your person and they don't want to take any risks when it comes to your safety.

I wouldn't share too much if I were you.

Now as Individuals they're all different, obviously.

Let's explore that.

Time

He's the most dangerous

I'm starting this off with that

I'm talking the most calculating, scheming and devious of the whole group

He know he's in charge and that the others will listen to him regardless if they actually agree with him or not

Because he's the leader

His grip on the group lessens as time goes by and their unity dissipates

But he's delusional and he doesn't realize it

However, because he's already in this position, he takes it upon himself to take care of you

And others let him

Less work for them to focus on when they can be by your side instead

You never have watch

You're always in the middle of the group

He'd gladly send the boys ahead of you into danger to make sure that they deal with it before you even get there.

The others let him with little thought because it's for you

So they go for it

Time however, is somehow, never the one to go ahead, instead waiting behind (with you) while they go ahead and deal with the issue

He gets away with this 8/10 times

Mostly because he rotates who's he's sacrificing

Dad! Time is not here- not anymore

But he lets them near you because he's only biding his time

You're meant to be

Soulmates, if you will

If a little time with you is all those boys need to stay in line and listen to him then he'll allow it

Because they're only boys

He's a man through and through

They have nothing on him

And you deserve more than a mere boy

He has some other concerns on his mind while the boys fight each other like street dogs

Time has to think about your future together so he daydreams the most out of the group.

He doesn't really have a home and a roof over his head for himself- let alone you and he knows he'd have to change that

He thinks about staying as a permanent employee at Lon Lon Ranch

He can save enough money

Buy a house

Maybe some land

And enough things for you and him to make a comfortable life without any worries

Maybe even start a family?

The dream is a reprieve form the headache that are other boys who won't leave you alone

Pray you don't end up in his Hyrule

EVER

This is just the gateway he'd be waiting for to keep you all to himself

Fighter or not it's dangerous to travel with them

You're in danger

And he won't stand for that.

He doesn't know how exactly he'd do it

But he plans to leave you at Lon Lon Ranch, waiting for him, for when he comes back after the mission

He'd have to find some kind of way to actually keep you there and find you when you inevitably try to leave the Ranch

But he's traveled all over his Hyrule

There's no place you could go that he doesn't know about

As the adult of the group, he'd step over all the others

He's not going to listen to them when they try to stop him

They don't know as much as he does

They haven't experienced as much as he has

He knows that this is the best and only option to ensure that you're safe and well taken care of

He'd doesn't mind leaving you as prisoner to the Gerudo instead either if the others start to really get pushy

It won't be comfortable and it won't be glamorous

But they'll definitely keep you in one place

And he can walk in whenever he wanted thanks to that note from the chief from a time long ago

Pick you up, take you away and you'll be his

He daydreams a lot

And he knows that you'll choose him

You have to

He's the best and only option

He's never felt happier thinking about you and the life you'll both have

He's struggled so much anyway

Maybe you were the blessing the goddesses owed him for all his work in his youth

And surely they aren't so cruel to give you to him and then take you away by some monster attack or some terrible unforeseen fate

He can't have that either

So he'll take the first and best out he's given

But while you're here with him...

He's looking at you like you're magic

Warrior

Warrior is the least dangerous

He knows the feel of being on the receiving side of someone's obsession

He was ignorant for a long time about it

But he wasn't sure how to feel comfortable in his own skin again when he found out about it

He can see how the others are starting to show similar obsessive tendencies and tries to mitigate what he can

He does a lot of damage control

It's what he's trying to do anyway- he's not very successful

Warrior is the one who's challenging their train of thought

Why do they think this is ok? Why don't they ask you for your opinion? Why do they not give some time alone to recharge? Why don't they lay off?

Because it's totally for your benefit- AND THEIRS

Because it's not ok

He doesn't see himself follow the exactly same train of thought

He doesn't see himself doing what they're doing

He's just annoyed that they're the ones doing it

Warrior becomes the very definition of hypocrite.

However- because he's the one acting as your advocate- the others don't consider him as much as a threat and therefore more inclined to listen to him at this point in time than Time himself

It also means that they don't fight him as much when he wants time with you. Mostly because in their eyes, he's not interested

They're wrong

At some point in Warrior's attempt to keep the group together and keep you from going crazy or hating all of them, he begins to gain ulterior motives in his mission

He begins to play the role in an attempt to win you over.

Because- see, he's not like them

He won't violate your space

Go through your stuff

Or keep you from doing what you love

He's the one to say you should join them in fights, that you should stay, that you can hold your own

Since he's the main strategist in the group, he takes into account your skills and always places you at a distance from the fight or from the most obsessive the group.

He knows that their one track mind could kill you or them and there's still the darkness to defeat.

They don't have the luxury to afford this kind of distractions

When the others aren't paying attention to him, he'd pepper you with compliments and flirty lines, playing up his charm and suave attitude

He becomes the perfect gentleman

You'd never know that he's crazy

Just join him and be with him- that's all he wants

He loves you so what more is there to offer you?

He's got the status, the looks and the means to take care of you so you wouldn't have to worry about anything else

He'd be the best husband that Hyrule has ever seen

He'd hate to have the group scare you off with how over the top they've all been.

He knows the group is being annoying with being by your side all the time and how they don't let you be and how there's always someone by your side even when you're at your final straw

Warrior is the one who takes over guarding you when you need to pee or bath and actively argues on your behalf to let you take care of your hygiene.

He's not always successful but it's the thought that counts right?

Hyrule agrees with him most of the time and since Hyrule seems to be the only one who still cares (somewhat) about the mission, they make an agreement

Warrior isn't at all concerned about the others and know that you'd come around to him eventually.

Since he's not like the others

You're his first thought in the morning, his last thought when he rests his head to sleep and there's nothing that he hasn't been doing that wasn't for you

Hyrule

Hyrule is the least possessive

Mostly because of his low confidence.

I've mentioned in a previous post that is unrelated to this, his love language is physical touch- so he's all over you

There always have to be some way that he's holding you- whether its a hand on your shoulder or the small of your back, maybe he's holding your hand or maybe he's just pinched the edge of your tunic

But he's careful to not go beyond what you're comfortable with

He doesn't want to you to pull away from him

Because the others will not hesitate to push and pull him away if you so much as hinted at not wanting him near you

So he plays it cool

Hyrule also gets concerned when there's too many injuries to go around and he needs to heal the group

Because if you hurt then he can't spare anything else to help you

It's one of the few things he thinks that he's useful for- so if he can't do this little thing for you then why does he bother?

There's so many other guys here that could easily sweep you off of your feet and have so much more to offer you

He doesn't have any land

He doesn't have a house

His Hyrule... isn't the most welcoming and he doesn't like the idea of bringing you from one dangerous situation to another

Especially since he's being hunted for sport back home

It doesn't stop him from trying to win your heart obviously and he tries to show you and win you over in whatever little ways he can.

He's the gentlest with you

Whatever hurting you, he'll heal

Whatever scaring you, he'll deal with

Whatever danger comes your way, he'll end it's miserable existence

He- like Time- daydreams a lot but he's trying to live for the moment

He's almost resigned in a way- that you won't pick him

He knows they're on borrowed time, he knows that something dangerous can take you away from them or that he could be the one to be taken away instead

So he's trying to make up for it in the time that you do have together and spend every second by your side that he can

Because the group gets a little more reckless in their attempts to impress you and be dealt with (whether you're healing them and tending to their wounds or just yelling at them)

He heals the group a lot little less

If they're going to be stupid and get hurt- then he's not going to waste his magic when they're only going to do the same thing the next day

Soon, with enough time and patience, Hyrule begins to hoard all the healing potions as well.

It's an attempt to keep them away from you so when they're hurt he can step in and just get them healed up in a minute

But it also works to keep the group from getting too reckless

It's not his intention but he takes it as it is

If they get hurt too much anyway then that just means less competition for him to deal with and a higher chance with you!

Because of his low confidence about you actually ending up with him, he becomes one of the more mission minded of the group, probably right after Warrior

Since they both have their sights on eradicating the darkness instead of focusing on their love lives (for different reasons) this is the first alliance to be formed

Hyrule wants you to be his but he's at a crossroad

He knows Warrior has a lot of charm to win you over and has the means to make sure you live a good life

He knows it's more than he can ever give you

But he's fairly certain he can take Warrior in a fight

One well timed Thunder Strike and Warrior wouldn't stand a chance

Not to mention that they've been fighting side by side now, so he knows what to look for to bring him down

He doesn't think it'll come to that though

Warrior doesn't seem that interested with you anyway so he doesn't worry about him

Which just leaves the problem of winning your heart

He wonders what life would be like he can love like you do

Twilight

Twilight is the most protective

It's his wolf instincts and his caretaker instincts combined.

He's used to being the one to look after everyone else

Being his village's primary babysitter and all

But wolves are family animals and they protect their mates

He's the one to fight to keep you away from the fights, whether you can handle yourself or not

He can Four agree with this and it's the second alliance that forms

You must be protected at all costs and there's many things around that can injure you, or worse

So they both try their hardest to keep you safe and secure

If bubble wrap existed in Hyrule you would have been wrapped in it and then wrapped again for good measure.

He's the first to run up to you and the first to drag over Hyrule or someone with a fairy or a potion to treat you

He's not afraid to start punching anything that dares to threaten you

Forget the sword

He'll just start swinging... or maybe just go full Woflie even if he's not in his form and go for the jugular

He lets you ride on Epona more often than not and refuses to let you work more than you should

He's quick to carry things for you

He tries to impress you by being a handy man and tries to fix whatever he can get his hands on for you

He's not good at it

But he tries

His love language is acts of service so he's trying

You don't really need his help though

But let him get it out

And tell him that he's doing a good job please, for your sake

He talks a lot about his home life with you and he ask a lot of questions about your own

He's comparing notes

Trying to see what way of life you'd be more comfortable with and how he can accommodate to it

He tries to win you over with the simple life and he paints pretty pictures of having a ranch and a farm and letting you have all and any animals you want

Wolfie make an appearance every other day instead of simply whenever it's convenient

If you're a dog lover then it's even better.

Twilight is not afraid of taking advantage of it to give you all the kisses and cuddles he can get away in his other form

The others would have to fight the each other just to get kisses from you but Wolfie gets special privilege's

He gets kisses no problem

He's not above using it to his advantage

Epona is always on Twilight side and while he's in wolf form, he tells her all about you and how much he loves you and all the ways he finds you amazing and spectacular

Because you're riding Epona more often than not, he tells her to watch after you and to keep your safe and to get to a safe area if they ever get ambushed

She doesn't know how human romance works, so she agrees.

Link is her master and her best friend, so she trusts him with her life and you're important to him, clearly, so you're important to her too

He's not going to lose you like he lost Midna

She left him behind with barely a glance behind

You won't leave him at all

He'll make sure of it

The others won't take you away from him either

Four seems to be the one who's most on his side right now and together they can lessen the competition

He'd hate to fight the guy and maybe they can come to an understanding but he knows he's got the brute strength that Four lacks not to mention Wolfie and Epona as well

So maybe he'll listen to reason

His world used to be so grey with no change in either direction

An eternal twilight

You became his light in the gloom

Sky

Sky is the least violent

He actually falls in the middle of both protectiveness and jealousy.

But he's more set on letting each of the boy pick each other off (not unlike Time) and then he'll figure out who's left over to deal with them then.

Sky also isn't one to fight off the other people who you interact with

He's not going to go confront the person or drag you away and definitely not going to start swinging

He still feels uncomfortable if you aren't by his side but he'll make up for it when you're done by sticking to your hip

Sky doesn't want you to feel cramped by only talking to the group

But he does get a little jumpy when you're beyond his line of sight.

That being said- he will let you out of his sight

Not for long periods of time, mind you, but he's not going to be in your shadow the entire time or demand to be glued to your hip

He's arguably the most normal out of the group- the least yandere if you will

Still crazy though

Sky is also one to agree with Warrior and Twilight.

He's not a part of any alliance but between wanting you to be safe and still wanting you to be healthy and clean (he knows how being clean helps out ones moral and he doesn't want you to be depressed when you're with them) he'd let them do the fighting and arguing for him and when they lose a bit, he'll say something and add to their cause

He's trying to be chill and he plays on his harp when you're nearby.

If you come sit next him to listen and chill- he will absolutely be over the moon

He will go through some of your things to make sure you have anything and everything you'd need for their adventure

But he won't take away your weapons or go through your diary (he wouldn't be able to read it anyway)

He does try to ask you in some roundabout way if he has permission to do that.

It'll be long winded and vague and a total play on words, so be careful to what you agree with when he asks something of you

Sky although is the least violent, that's in regards to other humans

Monsters have learned to keep away from him when he's on the battle field and if they haven't learned that...

They will

He's the one that tries to have your relationship mature and grow naturally.

Sky is going to simply be your friend first and show you that he has your best interest at heart

So when you talk to him about your problems and how the others are driving you crazy, he'll give you advice, tell you he's on your side and openly give you outs to avoid the others.

If you want time alone and the others begin looking for you, he'll tell them you went in the other direction and he'll send them on a wild goose chase.

Since he's on your side, he tells you to at least let him know where you're going and for how long so he can distract the others.

He's not concerned about you running away, since the others are going to do the work for him

Four and Twilight and Wolfie can find and hunt you down in a heart beat and you'll be together again

He won't blame you for running away, there's a lot of people who won't leave you alone in the group and it annoys him too

And Hyrule, Wind and Time keep you within the group and close by so he never has to worry about not knowing where you are at all times

Warrior and Wild keep you well fed and well taken care of

And Legend makes sure that you always have a potion on you and has even given some power rings to ensure your safety

So all he has to do is butter you up by being the least persistent of them all and you'll fall for him and you can be together forever and ever and even be the start of Hyrule as everyone knows it

Wouldn't that be nice?

While he may not be the most musically inclined of the group, he's the one to serenade you when he gets the chance

He plays his harp more often than not, trying to get the notes out that he hears in his head when he looks at you

His life was such a simple song before you came along but now... It's a symphony, he wants you to know this

Four

Four is the most controlling

He's the one putting restrictions on you left and right and is the one to never want you to leave his side- let alone his line of sight.

You see, he's got these voices in his head that bounce ideas off of each other.

When one might be, hey that guy is talking to you

The other responds with, he's close to you too

One might say, you're smiling and it's beautiful

Another says, why is it directed at that guy?

Which snowballs to, you're a little too close, a little too nice, is he flirting? Has he touched you? Is he trying to make a move?

And then he's even more possessive and it grows and spirals and next thing he knows, he's next to you again and chewing the poor guy out for no reason when it was a simple conversation about the weather and directions.

And that's in public

Now add in the threat of monsters and traps and many other dangerous that surround the group as a whole

He's paranoids in the extreme

So when Twilight suggests that they tie you to Epona and keep you where he they can always see you, he's the first to agree

In fact he feels as if Twilight is the only one who's actually looking out for your well being

Wind tries to throw fits and get the two of them to back off but he's just a kid, what does he know? He should know better anyway, he knows how dangerous this journey is going to get, so why is Wind trying to actively put you in harms way?

Twilight a least can get Wind to listen to reason and Twilight's better at explaining it than he is so while Four'll yell, Wind is really Twilight's problem.

He doesn't like the idea of fighting is friends but he can see that well... He's the only to notice that they're not as close as they used to be when you first joined.

He thinks that Warrior can feel it but Four is the one who'll say it out loud.

Four is actually the most trigger happy out of all them, he's not afraid to break character and yell at some poor passerby who's too foolish enough to even look in your direction

He's the angry guard dog in public and it's a little hard to reign him most of the time

Twilight agree with him in this but he's also the one to hold him back

The last thing they need is to be kicked out of town

But if while you're there maybe he can get something for you?

He's the kind of person to make something for their beloved but he only knows how to make weapons and tools

Things that he's never going to give to you and actively tries to keep them away from at all costs

Yes, if you have your own weapons he'll also try to take them away

He'd rather see you angry than injured

No, he does not see how being weaponless in a fight will lead to more injuries and no, he not going to listen to those who try to tell him that.

Maybe he can learn how to make jewelry and gift that instead?

A pretty thing like yourself should be adorned in more beauty.

And he can save enough to make it with rubies and diamonds and any gold that he can salvage in Hyrule

He'd give you and make you anything you want

You'd be dripping in jewels if he had it his way

He also knows that the voices try to point out his flaws and all the ways that he's really not that appealing to any potential partners

It doesn't matter that he's merged and they all have the same flaws

But whenever he's next to you and things are calm, the voices are quiet and he feels like him

Wild

Wild is the Most violent

Like Four, he does not care if it's a simple conversation, if someone else is taking up your time and attention then he will want to start swinging.

He's usually held back by Warrior and Time since Twilight typically has to restrain Four

But if you're in danger? Real danger?

He becomes the equivalent of the Fierce Deity, no mask required

The battle field becomes a blood bath by his hand alone

Sure the others will want to to cause some destruction as well and destroy any and all threats to you, but Wild goes the extra mile

Forget Twilight going feral, he has an excuse- but Wild?

He'll go ballistically feral, even going as far to drop his weapons to rip into the threats with his hands and teeth

He has to make sure there's absolutely nothing in between you and him

He's not afraid to throw away his whole good guy reputation and even the reputation of the hero in order make sure he's the last man standing

Wild is now taking notes on how the the group fights and how they defend themselves, defend you and try to figure out the best ways to take them down

If there was ever to be a physical fight within the group, he'll not only be a part of it but most likely also the instigator

Wild has already lost all his friends and family before, he can't afford to lose anyone else

Besides his Hyrule has so much more to offer you than some of the others

Not to mention he has his own house- in a safe village- with low monsters around it- and barely any reason to think that he wouldn't be able to provide for you

He's got the rupees he needs from his monster farming and everything's nearby. Whatever he can't get, he can teleport to and he wouldn't have to leave you alone for long periods of time.

Wild goes out of his way to buy you clothes since the others have taken care of your other needs (much to his chagrin)

But he also makes sure you have the best portions of the meals he makes

He keep tracks how much you ate and when

He always there to give you a snack if you even mention of being peckish

He knows the others won't mind if he dotes in this manner

Not only because it's for you...

He has all the food anyway.

When he sees that you're wearing Legend's old tunic, he instantly hates it

He and Legend are less of an alliance and merely on tolerable terms- not that Legend notices or cares- because of this and Wild knows that your clothes have taken a lot battery

He wants to you be warm and protected

But he also has a lot of extra outfits

So he takes a page out of Legend's book and gives you some as well

He's a little disappointed you don't wear them as often but he knows that most of them are specialized for certain terrain- Legend's is more of a catch all kind of deal so he can understand the need for general uses

He's not happy about it

But he understands

The crazy thing is, you wouldn't want to end up in his Hyrule either

Pray you never do

Like Time, Wild has been all over his Hyrule and has traveled to all the nooks and crannies

He knows that he can hide you away without the others ever knowing what happened to you

Not even Wolfie would be able to track you

Why?

Because (and this is from AoC) he can teleport more than one person at a time, so he can just take you far away and somewhere secluded, somewhere where you wouldn't be able to leave

Hebra region? In the cabin where he learned how to shield surf? Or play the snow bowl game?

Gerudo Wasteland?

Akkala Region? With Robbie? It's hard to get past the guardians and the high level monsters...

Or maybe ditch you in the mountains with Paya in Kakariko Village?

Or maybe leave you on the Great Plateau? You can't get down without a paraglider...

Life with you is the only reason he's still on this journey instead of just taking you and leaving

The darkness is still around and it threatens his future with you

But it looks bright in his head when all is over and he's so happy that he met you

Life is now pink! And he won't take off his rose tinted glasses any time soon!

Legend

Legend is the most possessive

As some people have headcanoned in the past, he has a problem letting things go

He's lost so many people he cares about- he knows that items are a little harder to lose

He's the Collector- the Hoarder

Naturally when he sees something that he wants, he'll stop at nothing to make it his.

However, since he has a problem coming into direct contact with his own feelings, he's projecting

Legend instead tries to keep you at arms length and fails miserably

He doesn't want to fall for someone only to have them be ripped form him again, and again and again,

He cares for the group still even after their disagreements and eventually mistrust

He doesn't want to leave this little family they've made for themselves and has disillusioned himself into thinking that he can save it before it's too late

But in his fairytale ending, you're with him

Legend, though, still knows that their time will end and everyone will eventually go home so by the time everyone begins fighting and jealousy runs amuck, he's trying to hold everyone at arms length

When you don't give him attention, he's prone to get angry and may very well at times act like he hates you

He doesn't like it when you so much as breath in someone else's direction

You're his and his alone, why is anyone else even worth your time and energy?

But he's not going to say this out loud

So he's frustrated with himself and pouts often

So he's stuck in a cycle of self hatred and jealousy and not willing to do something to change it

But when you do give him attention, he's melts into a puddle

He's at your beck and call if so much as say his name

There's very little that he isn't willing to do for you or get for you, anything to make you happy

He's also quick to give you power rings to protect you even if he's against you fighting

Legend is also going to give you an extra tunic if (/when) your clothes take too much damage and they're too far gone for him to fix

It's a power move on his part

Not only does he feel giddy with boyish excitement when he sees you in his old tunic (that definitely has some kind of magical properties to ensure your safety), it's also him marking you as his property

And the others know it

Wild does a similar thing so you can at least have a change of clothes but Legend is quick to tailor them when you're not looking to not fit you and be uncomfortable

He's the one going through your things for sure

He need to know that he's the one who's taking care of you

He needs to know you have everything you need

He needs to know if there's anything that you're lacking so that he can sweep in and provide it for you

He's not really planning on taking out the competition or is planning beyond keeping you by his side for the day

He (like Hyrule) is living for the moment, because he's afraid he's going to blink and you'd be gone and there would be nothing else left for him

But you won't be gone

He's going to make sure of that

He's got tunnel vision for sure

But since he's also trying to not fall for you and get his heart broken, it becomes a game of hot and cold with a whole lot of minefields in between that could set him off for (what looks like) no reason

He hates you- no he doesn't- he wants nothing to do with you- he wants to be your everything- he's not going to write you poetry or braid your hair or fall asleep listening to your heart beat- he would kill for that to be his reality- he hates that you're all he's able to think about now- don't leave him please

He's not crushing

He's not

He is

Wind

Wind is the least protective- Still protective but arguably not to the degree of the others

You see, he knows that the others protect him because he's the youngest

And he's not blind

He can see that they're just as, if not more, protective over you

He can see how you hate it and how much it annoys you

He's not going to make that same move

And as a bonus, since the others are protecting you anyway, why should he put in the work and protect you as well?

There's enough people watching you all the time

With the others taking care of it, he can plan on winning you over

He's going to give you as much freedom as he's able to get away with

It'll put him as your favorite

This immediately puts him at a crossroads with Four who's somehow a hair's breadth away from tying you up and chaining you together by the wrists

They fight against each other the most

He plans on marrying you

It's honestly in the same degree of young children that say they're growing to grow up and marry their dad or their mom

Because obviously you marry the person you love and you stay with them for the rest of your life

And he loves you.

So that's what he plans to do

Win you over is step one

Then he (and you) just need to wait a few years for him to get older

And then he'll marry you

He does not see a problem with this plan

Typically I make the reader the same age as him to avoid the worst of it but in this case, this does not matter

I'd say that if you're older, he'd get more easily attached to giving you the freedom you've been missing

With him by your side obviously

Because you're older- you're an 'adult'- you can take care of yourself

You're so cool in his eyes

The others, naturally, see a problem with this

Not only out of jealously at the very thought of it not being them to marry you but because they know he's young and if you're older, (say closer to Twilight and Warrior's age) then they can see the problem it'll prove to be for you from a moral stand point

The others (mainly Legend and Four) bully tease him when you're not around about how selfish he is to even think about making you wait, when you could easily marry one of them instead, so why would you ever choose him?

He tries not to let it get to him because he does hang out with you more than they get to- so maybe they're really just jealous that his plan is working

Wind has the more innocent approach to this whole ordeal out of the whole group

His obsession isn't healthy, obviously, but he at least the excuse of being young and not knowing how to deal with crushes

Because he's awkward with it, (and he knows it) he's actually pretty quick to shut away the worst of it when he's spending time with you, less you think he's weird and push him away

Not only does he not want that to happen, but he's heard the others come up to you countless times regarding him and his behavior and if you'd like him to leave you alone

Because they will deal with him if you so much as say one word of annoyance

The choice is yours

If you indulge him when he wants your attention then he's more like himself and becomes the most normal out of the whole group

He becomes the him when you first joined

Before the obsession

Wind becomes your safest bet in terms of keeping your sanity intact and it's the groups saving grace to keep up any illusion that they're still normal

Wind is dealing with a highly flammable vial of puppy love concentrate

All in the form of budding teenage yandere hormones

If you had met him any later in his life, the cocktail would have no doubt exploded into the form of the other's behavior and he'd seem like a completely different person instead

He's almost like a lost puppy, always following you around and being in your shadow

It would be cute if he wasn't crazy

Wind adores you though and he wants you to know that

[fatalflawsy]

Aww thank you! I'm glad you like it and I do wanna do more with it but it'll probably be some crack posts about the interactions since I can't write for my life

But this really has been giving me brain juice for it.

Mikey God Of Food And Harvest but when enraged he will become God Of Flames his body will emit heat that will probably burn you alive if you're in his sights. Other than that he's pretty chill.

Donnie is god of Knowledge and Innovative but with a bit of madness to the side (I am basing this off some of his inventions) innovation because he's waaay beyond his time.

For Casey and Cassandra I like you're take in them a lot but I have this what if feeling... What if Casey Jr was a demi god? Cassandra went down to earth every once in a while but ended up with Casey we never got to see who the father is so this could be changed.

For Raph I will stick with your idea for him but with a twist which is his anger issues he doesn't take it out on his family but instead on the battlefield (which is the infamous savage Raph episodes) but after going down to earth with rage on the mind and comes across animals he tries manages his anger in a more healthy way so the animals will be okay there are times it slips due to his frustration on his brothers but he has developed some steps on how to calm himself and animals are the most calming ones.

April your idea on her and I'll add to it April out of everyone in the Pantheon has actually been down to earth more times than even splinter has and has more experience in it than everyone else so they usually go to her for advice and for the brothers effective ways of sneaking out and checking out the scene of the mortal plains. April is impulsive at times usually jumping in without thinking so sometimes she disguises herself as a mortal to have fun and maybe cause some minor inconveniences. Her companion Mayhem was a spirit animal found by Raph and given to April so she has a companion when she goes down to the mortal realm and keep her from causing a lot of destruction when she's having fun. Most of the time Mayhem is her best friend and would not trade him for the world. (I wish I had more Mayhem content so I'm making it)

Splinter Head of the Pantheon and the former/forgotten God Of Fame And Fortune before leading the Pantheon he was a very famous god back then (his Lou jitsu days) everyone wanted to be his follower for the many treasures he could give but an accident led to him hiding away and never returning to the mortal plains again slowly being forgotten by time. (Mutation is the accident) (I still have yet to flesh out the accident)

Draxum the God of Alchemy, Magic and Plants he has a deep seated hatred for the mortals back then due to them destroying the village he used to watch over (hidden city) the mortals put the remaining citizens in hiding and it enraged him resulting in many experiments that gave Splinter his accident and his 4 sons. Eventually he let's go of this anger to raise the technically teenage sons of splinter and keeps an open mind about the mortals below.

Leo I'm going with your idea for him which is God of Strategy and Travel at the moment his portals need a conduit to open (like all his brothers and their own abilities) but soon he will learn to use it without the conduit. He basically convinced Splinter to let him and his brothers go down to earth after people watching for ages he wants to get into the action.

In the people watching days when they used to sneak out to see the Mortal world Leo runs into several battles every now and then and sees patterns their battle strategists miss so after observing each side's motivation and drive with some divine intervention he gives the good guys the winning strategies by whispering it through the battle strategists ears or in the wind and that was the start of a myth that circulated around the battle strategists and some warriors. The myth was called Winds of Strategy (name needs to be changed) as it said a God was the one feeding them their strategies and they were merely following it which was true

Leo seeing how he was helping people asked if he could stay down for a period of time to gain some followers and spread his influence further and Splinter denied at first but eventually gives in thanks to April. So Leo was the first of his brothers to get a cult of people to worship him as his brothers were still unsure if they should gain some followers themselves even with their divine interventions every now and then. (This can still be changed)

Usagi obviously has to be here because it's not Leosagi without him. Hope you don't mind I use AWOSAN as a backbone since it's my biggest inspiration here

Now Usagi is a samurai from the teshu who has yet to swear loyalty to his Lord. Usagi fights by honor and helps those in need but is rather impulsive with his decision making resulting in a lot of money spent (aka going all out on some things)

So when a turtle comes up to him asking him if he wants to serve a God and be the first of followers his curiosity got the better of him and decided to see what this God had to offer and see if he will be his follower or not.

In the future Usagi joins the Pantheon but as like a messenger of the gods at first but slowly he earns his title as a God which is now the God of Honor, Justice and Blades.

Why Blades? Because he was a samurai and still considers himself to be as one even in his Godhood the Blades part is because once he finds which side he will be fighting for he will not stand by he will fight alongside those he things is right and will do so with vigor.

The Teshu crew has yet to be described here honestly since I love your characterization on them so I'm hoping for more ideas like this and maybe I can turn this idea into something (that is if I learn how to write)

So I'm looking at your fics and I got an idea about Leo being an actual god

Like imagine Leo was sent to the world of the mortals to learn and find some followers he had a limited time set before he gets home and his first one is Usagi.

Throughout their interactions Leo is starting to stray away from getting more followers and wants to hang around the mortals and maybe fall in love after learning more about it thanks to Mifune or someone else

(This idea is still in beta)

Honestly

I love it.

I had the villagers start making up different myths and legends about Leo and people really like them.

Honestly the rise family being gods is such a fun concept to play with. The show really gave us a whole pantheon to play with

Splinter is obviously the head of the pantheon

Raph is the god of protection, strength, and warriors.

Leo is the god of strategy and travel

Donnie is the god of knowledge and inventions/technology

Mikey a the god of food and the harvest,

April is the goddess of truth and families (she sees both sides of New York and is always the one to call the brothers out)

Cassandra is the goddess of war and violence

Casey is the god of peace and victory

Draxum is the god of magic and plants (he’s the one responsible for the mutations or transformations of man into beast)

These are just some loose ideas.

You can also give Leo and Donnie a sun and moon theme. Maybe make Raph the god of animals. Maybe Leo gear love and beauty as well tiring back to the Eros myth.

I would love to hear other peoples ideas on their godly abilities.

But yes the idea of Leo and his brothers sneaking down to earth and disguising themselves (ninja treachery) is so fun.

And of course this is how Leo meets Usagi. Usagi a samurai that can slay man and beasts a brutal warrior that is also kind and good.

Leo falls hard.

Maybe it ends with them separated as god and mortal stories often do. Or maybe Usagi takes up a position in the pantheon as some mythologies allow hero’s to do.

I love this idea. Give me more ideas to play with or tell me y’all’s thoughts. I’d love more of this.

This is very much a beta idea. The pantheon needs to be fleshed out and many other pieces but it would be very fun. Please do more with this.

[antimonarchy]

How to Create Image Descriptions

So I’ve been creating image descriptions on tumblr for about a month, and I wanted to share some helpful guides I’ve found on how to create them as well as my own tips that I’ve picked up. Video descriptions and transcripts are also necessary, but since I mostly focus on image descriptions that’s what this guide is about. This might get a bit long, so fair warning. 

What are image descriptions?

Image descriptions are a textual depiction of what is going on in an image, as shown with the image below. 

[Image ID: A picture of a person with short black hair working on a computer. They are sitting at a wooden table with a large blue pot of pink flowers in front of a grey brick wall. A guitar is propped up against the wall in the background, and there is a string of lights near the ceiling. /.End ID]

Why create image descriptions?

The primary reason for creating image descriptions is to allow people who are blind/have limited vision to experience visual content. Many people who are blind/have low vision use screenreaders, which read text out loud when it is clicked or hovered over with a mouse. A large amount of online content, such as pictures, graphics, or drawings, is visual and so possibly cannot be experienced by someone with vision problems. As a general rule of thumb, anything that can be dragged or dropped most probably requires a description. In addition, if someone has partial vision and attempts to zoom in on an image, sometimes it can become pixelated and impossible to understand. 

Some neurodivergent people might need a description to understand the tone of an image, such as the meaning of facial expressions of a person to understand what emotion the artist is trying to depict

Some people might not have high speed internet or have low computer memory, meaning that they turn off images in order to save space. This means that they as well might require descriptions of visual content

Are image descriptions the same as alt text?

no, alt text and image descriptions serve the same purpose, but they are different in how they are presented. Alt text, short for alternative text, is included in the html of an image and can be read by a screen reader. However, there are many reasons why many prefer image descriptions over alt text. 

There is a limit of 200 words in alt text on tumblr specifically (and not in other contexts, which makes this information only applicable here), which means that detailed images or graphics are unable to be described fully without possibly cutting out important information. 

People who require descriptions, but who do not use a screenreader, must right-click and search through the html of an image in order to find alt text, but with an image description they are saved that work. 

Who should create image descriptions?

Everyone who is able to should create image descriptions. A content creator is best able to communicate the message of their work through text, as they are the one who created it and thus understand its message the best. While of course it takes practice when starting out, over time image descriptions become second nature when posting visual content. Always check the notes of a tumblr post for an ID rather than reblogging without one. 

What should be included in image descriptions?

There is no simple answer to this question, there are a variety of resources and guides on how to create one, and you should not accept my advice as the ultimate authority, as I am by no means a professional, and only create descriptions in my spare time as part of the effort to make Tumblr more accessible. However, here is my information for those starting out. 

First, consider what type of visual content it is. Is it fanart of a tv show, a screenshot of a tweet, or an informational graphic meant to educate people on a particular issue? 

Then, consider what information is most important in the image. If the visual content is an image of a famous building, then in writing the description the focus should be on the building, rather than describing for instance the color of the sky, surrounding buildings, or the clothing of the people walking by, as they are not the information that is being presented. 

Perkins ELearning has an excellent list of things that should generally be included, which I will include here. In my experience, these are the most important elements to describe

The people and animals in an image

The background or setting of an image

Elements that relate to the context specifically, so if it was an image of a congested highway on a news website, the description would mention the packed cars

The colors of an image (don’t overdo it however, a simple ‘light blue’ will suffice, no need to say something like ‘a color blue that is similar to the color of a robin’s egg’ unless it is crucial to the viewer’s comprehension of an image)

Context for an image. For instance, imagine if someone had drawn a version of the Bernie Sanders ‘I am once again asking’ meme, with Eleanor Shellstrop from the Good Place saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place.” Rather than provide a description to the example such as:                                          [Image ID: A drawing of Eleanor Shellstrop saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place.” /.End ID] you would instead say                                                                                                [Image ID: A redraw of the Bernie Sanders ‘I am once again asking’ meme with Eleanor Shellstrop from The Good Place saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place. /.End ID]

If the image is of a social media post, include the username/handle of the creator as well as the reactions (likes/reblogs) if they are visible in the image, as they may be cut off by the original screenshotter. 

If it is a drawing or piece of art, always look for the artist’s signature when writing a description

How do I write an image description?

To start off, here is an example description written for a piece of art I made myself. 

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Suki from Avatar: The Last Airbender over a gold background.  She is shown from the shoulders up facing the viewer, and has a neutral expression. She is wearing metal armor over a light green tunic, and is wearing her Kyoshi Warriors facepaint and headdress. The artist’s signature ‘Astra’ is written in the lower right of the image. /.End ID]

In this description:

I made clear where the description begins and ends, so that someone with a screenreader is not confused. I usually use brackets ([ ]), write the words ‘Image ID’ (or video/gif/other) and finish with a slash, period, and the words End ID. (/.End ID)

I emphasized the type of image, in this case a digital drawing

I said the character’s name (obviously this may not be known if describing a photo or something you are not familiar with)

I described the background and the character’s clothing

I described her expression

I included the description of my signature.

This is my basic process for writing a description

I first say what the content is, such as a drawing, photo, or screenshot of a tweet.

I then use what is called Object-Action-Context for the most part, which UXDesign has a long article on https://uxdesign.cc/how-to-write-an-image-description-2f30d3bf5546. For example, [Image ID: A photo of a person standing in a crowd waving to someone out of view in front of a river. /.End ID] While obviously I would usually provide more information than that, Person = object, standing + waving to someone out of view = action, and ‘in a crowd’ = context. 

I describe the clothing that might be worn

I talk about the position that people in an image might be in, such as leaning against one another on a couch, or standing with their fingers intertwined

I talk about the expressions on their faces, if shown

I talk about their general appearance (if important to the description) such as hair color/length

As said before, I talk about the context of an image if necessary

If the background is a simple color, I usually include it in the first sentence of the description. However if it is more complicated, such as a river winding through a dense forest, I include that at the end of the description after describing the important elements. 

Typically if I am reblogging an image, I do not add on any commentary after creating an image description, as this allows others to reblog my description without my personal reaction. If I want to add on to an image, I usually reblog my description post. 

In general, it is best to remain objective when writing a description, meaning not including your opinion of the content. However especially in an informal setting, say for instance you were describing an adorable cow, I would see it as fine to say [Image ID: A small drawing of an adorable cow. /.End ID] because the emphasis is on the appearance. There isn’t a clearcut answer, and it really depends on the context. 

What are some tips for writing descriptions/common pitfalls?

If there is an element of an image like a line that represents an emotion, or a sound effect like ‘clang’ if something falls, include that in the description. For instance, [Image ID: ...beside the mug that has fallen on the floor, there are the words ‘sploosh’ indicating the sound of the water that has spilled out. /.End ID]

Put image descriptions first. Don’t hide them under readmores or any other text. If you have something with multiple images and you are the creator, place the description under each image in succession rather than all at the end. Readmores are ableist, as they require someone who has vision problems/one of the conditions described above to do more work to access the message of visual content. 

If you are mentioning the skin color and/or race of someone in an image, make sure you describe it for anyone else who might be in an image. Don’t just describe the race of someone who appears to not be white. This doesn’t mean that you have to describe race, such as if the character is one whose race is commonly known, just that if you do, make sure you do it for all characters/people in an image. 

In order to write IDs effectively, I’ve found it useful to download a screen reader. I use NVDA, which is entirely free and easy to use and can be downloaded here: https://www.nvaccess.org/download/. 

Insert + Q turns it off

While my guide has focused mostly on image descriptions, video descriptions are also necessary. However they are not my area of expertise, and differ slightly, so I would recommend anyone interested in them to check out this website https://www.washington.edu/accessibility/videos/

Transcripts, for those who are d/Deaf/Hard of Hearing, are also necessary for making content accessible, and might be required for content that also has a visual format, such as a Tiktok. I would recommend this website https://www.w3.org/WAI/media/av/transcripts/ for anyone interested in writing transcripts

What are some more resources I can check out?

Here are a series of websites that I have found while researching how to write descriptions

UX Design -  I mentioned UX Design earlier when talking about Object - Action - Context, this article is very useful and examines how to structure a description and provides very useful examples for beginners

Perkins E-Learning - This article is very useful in helping someone what to include in a description, such as clothing or background information, as well as providing some additional information on alt text if you are interested

Meloukhianet - This blog post by s. e. smith goes into detail on the elements of an image to emphasize depending on its context, using the example of a picture of their cat sunning himself. 

SOAP - This article by the Stanford Online Accessibility Program (SOAP) provides a large amount of information on the purpose of image descriptions and what content requires them

HubPages - This article by SOTD and Zera discusses the difference between sparse, lush, and overdone descriptions, which is the amount of information included, and if/when each should be used. 

I hope you found this information helpful, I encourage everyone to check out these websites, and my inbox is always open for questions!

[maestrejayde]

TEASER: STORY COMING SOON

This is my first post and it's a teaser for a story I started writing after I reread the GOT books recently. I decided I wanted to explore the Tumblr world with it. My plan is to post a teaser twice a week for a few weeks before I start posting any chapters, just because I'm still working on it and editing and such and also, need to introduce myself to Tumblr! Here's the first on! They will become less and less vague as we go on. *Will post warnings and ratings on the teasers where applicable*

Rating: E (This teaser is not explicit, but the story will eventually be mature in nature. Minors should not read.)

The nights in Planky Town are crisp. The cold often comes as a surprise to first time visitors, who travel across the Narrow Sea to trade. It’s usually not the only surprise they suffer, here in Dorne’s largest city. 

There is no other place, in the whole of Westeros or Essos, quite like Planky Town. It sits almost entirely on the water, where the Greenblood meets the Summer Sea, built up haphazardly by the Orphans who call the whole of the river their home. Instead of streets, long planks are tied to poles that are set deep into the earth below the water, making narrow alleyways that skim above the surface. Instead of traditional buildings, there are narrow boats, brightly colored and ornamented, tied together as well as to the alleys. Of course, as the city became a more popular trading post, foreign traders, inland Dornishmen and even the occasional Orphan merchant who rose above the means of his birth, would build a grand building on the land that borders Planky Town, pushing the radius of the city further out. But the soul of the city still lies on the water. 

It’s the water that brings the night air. When the burning Dornish sun gives way to the moon, winds from the river and the sea lighten the air. Typically, the Inlanders are driven inside from the cold; into pub boats, floating brothels, or anywhere else big enough to have a hearth of some sort. That leaves the night full of Orphans. 

The Orphans of the Greenblood are as unique as Planky Town. 

Thousands of years before Aegon Targaryen and his sister-wives Rhaenys and Visenya captured 6 of the 7 kingdoms, the ancestors of the Orphans, the Rhyonar, lived in flourishing city-states along the immense Rhyone River. As ancient and storied as the Old Empire of Ghis, the Rhyonish civilizations held important knowledge. For example, though the Westerosi like to tell the story of “The Smith”, the Ryonar, in their generosity, are the ones who taught the Andals how to work iron. In the same spirit of generosity, the Rhyonar welcomed the first colonists from the growing Valyrian Empire in the east. In return, Valyrians began hunting the turtles they considered sacred. When the Rhyonar pushed back, they were killed and enslaved, and their cities began to be occupied or destroyed by the invaders. Prince Garin convinced other city-state leaders to join forces under his command to face the invaders together, directing the largest army ever seen in Essos, then or now, against an army of 100,000 Valyrians, 100 war elephants and 3 dragons. It’s unknown really how, but Garin managed to push back the Valyrian empire where no other had been able to, therefore becoming Garin “the Great.” Unfortunately, the dragonlords would eventually bring Garin and the Rhoynar to heel. Only one leader, the warrior princess Nymeria, escaped Essos, along with 10,000 boats full of refugees. After much wandering, they landed in Dorne. So none of her people would have doubts about staying, Nymeria burned all 10,000 ships. 

At the time, Dorne was separated into many kingdoms that had never been unified. One of those kingdom’s leaders, Mors Martell, married Nymeria. With their combined forces, they unified Dorne and ruled together, from the Martell seat in Sunspear. Most of the Rhoynar, finally safe in this new land, a sea away from the dragonlords, acclimated. Others, however, were not so content. There were those that learned from the old mistakes of the Rhoynar, no longer trusting outsiders. They built narrowboats from the burnt remains of Nymeria’s fleet and sailed south, until they came to the mouth of the Greenblood River. On the Greenblood, they do their best to preserve their heritage, speaking their mother tongue and practicing their ancient customs. Nothing is quite the same though, here on this narrow river, surrounded on all sides by harsh desert. Always, they long for their true home, their “Mother Rhyone.” Thus, they call themselves Orphans.

[aquafaith]

My lengthy, angry ACOSF rant review.

Spoilers, TW for mental, emotional, physical, and sexual abuse.

.

.

.

I loved ACOTAR. I still love ACOTAR. I always will love ACOTAR. But every book afterwards made me give up more and more. ACOMAF romanticized an abusive relationship and assassinated characters for the author's convenience. ACOWAR was a bunch of boring and inconsequential death scares. ACOFAS was all-round dreadful. And each book kept shitting on and pushing away Lucien for no reason.

I'd like to preface this by saying I hated Nesta too. I hated the way she treated Feyre in ACOTAR especially, and I wasn't even too excited for this book because I wasn't that keen on Nesta as a character.

Nesta's POV and her backstory changed my perspective. It does not excuse her actions. All Nesta stans can hold these characters accountable for what they do - trauma is a reason, not an excuse. I, and many others, sided with Nesta because of the way she's treated by everyone else in this book. Also, if you're going to hate Nesta for not teaching Feyre how to read and letting her hunt at fourteen, (which I did, and are very valid things to hate), AT LEAST hold Elain accountable too.

This book. This fucking book.

Shall we start with the intervention? Feyre on her little power trip thinks that her boyfriend that hates Nesta and Nesta hates back, Nesta's ex-best friend, and her possible mate who she never talks to should be at this stupid fucking intervention??? Excuse me???

Remember in ACOMAF when Feyre wouldn't shut up about how rich Rhysand is? Feyre literally has four or five houses and is always talking about how much jewelry and lingerie she can afford because Rhysand is so rich??? Well, Nesta has a few shots. So you know what Feyre does? Humiliates Nesta at this "intervention", TEARS DOWN HER HOME, and forces her to go to the Illyrian training camp.

That was the god awful premise for this book.

Did you think Elain wasn't there because she was against the "intervention"? Nope! She was packing Nesta's belongings without permission.

Remember in ACOMAF when it's made a big fucking deal that locking up a traumatised woman is extremely damaging? Well, when Nesta decides she doesn't want to be in Illyria, Feyre locks her in the House of Wind. Nesta can't fly, so her only way of leaving is down the TEN THOUSAND STEPS, that Feyre KNOWS Nesta isn't capable of climbing.

Feyre's pregnant. In ACOFAS she randomly decided that she wanted a baby to remember Rhysand by if he dies. Which doesn't make any sense because they made that stupid fucking death pact in ACOWAR. It's just SJM superimposing her pregnancy onto her early 20's protagonist. Ignoring the fact that Feyre isn't ready for a baby and Rhysand CERTAINLY isn't, and with a war just ended and another looming and so much trauma and a DEATH PACT are all such horrible circumstances to bring a child into, Feyre is already pregnant. Remember when SJM made a big deal about Fae babies being so hard to conceive, and Feyre said in ACOFAS they wouldn't have to worry for a long time because it can take years to conceive your first Fae child? Well it's been no more than 3 or 4 months and Feyre's already pregnant. Yep.

Also the birth will kill her. Because of course it will. Rhysand KNEW this, and still agreed to try for a baby.

There's no solution. Abortions don't exist for some stupid reason, and a C section would apparently kill Feyre?

(Wasn't this book supposed to be about Nessian?)

In ACOWAR, Cassian was on the battlefield with his entrails around his knees. Someone had to literally hold his guts in for him, and he's fine, but you're telling me a C section would kill Feyre?

Don't worry, this is just setting up the AWFUL ending to this book.

ACOSF amounts to Nesta being gaslit into believing her abusers are right. Her friends and family slut shame her and shame her for her lifestyle constantly. Cassian says it took him decades to work through some of his trauma, and he tried to drink and fuck it away too, but suddenly when Nesta does so it's heinous? Nesta's barely twenty five and she's expected to cope better than these ancient immortals.

Hell, didn't SJM write ACOMAF? Nobody expected Feyre to pick herself up so quickly. The IC (excluding Rhysand) respected her boundaries for the most part and understood when it was grief, trauma, and turmoil that made her angry, sad, want to be left alone, etc. But that's all forgotten here.

Amren also compares Nesta to the people in, and says she belongs in, The Court of Nightmares. You know, the murderers, abusers and rapists? This innocent woman who had a few shots and a bit of sex is on par with them, apparently!

The sex scenes.

SJM is scared to say vagina so she says sex.

She says seed to mean semen.

Apparently the word cunt turns SJM on. I just found Cassian saying that kinda cringe because I'm Bri'ish so the word cunt really isn't a big deal.

Back to the baby killing Feyre, because this is definitely what we all wanted from this book as indicated by the change in covers and format and title... Rhysand decides not to tell Feyre. He tells her friends and family, and tells them not to tell her.

SJM loves sweeping Rhysand's abuse from the first book under the rug and claiming it's always about Feyre's choice... where is that here, MAAS? WHERE IS IT?

Anyway, when Nesta rightfully decides to tell Feyre (although it is kind of out of spite), Rhysand threatens to kill Nesta.

And I believed him. With the way he treats his """mAtE tHaT hE lOvEs sO mUcH""" and all the people he's mindlessly killed before, do you really think he wouldn't kill the person who gave Feyre an inch of autonomy?

So what does Cassian do? His lover who he cares deeply about and suspects is his mate has received a death threat from tHe mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lORd iN hIsToRy.

Cassian simply gets Nesta out of the court.

EXCUSE ME?

He doesn't breathe ONE word to Rhysand about this. This Illyrian WARRIOR who fought with his GUTS HANGING OUT didn't dare step up to the hIGh lOrD who he considers his brother and sparrs and fights with all the time?

Cassian literally does nothing.

Was it not Rhysand himself who said Mated males are dangerous? Can kill anyone who looks at their mate? Can be dangerous simply leaving the house? Rhys and Feyre both pull the Mate card to justify their bad actions on the other's behalf... and Cassian just tried to get Nesta out of the court?

Also, this High King bullshit.

I swear to fucking god, if SJM DARES to make this abusive, power-tripping, mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lOrD eVEr, husband-insert of hers hIgH kInG, I will fight her in the street.

My beloved Lucien is in this book. Only for him to be used and shat on.

I really liked it when he calmed Cassian down with just a look though. Yes please fox man.

Helion is also in this book. Nothing to do with Lucien.

Eris is also in this book. ERIS. Lucien's eldest brother. The same one who abused him for years, but according to SJM he's slightly better, because at least he didn't agree to kill Lucien's lover. He betrayed his daddy that one time, therefore Eris is good. Y'know, the same Eris who abused Mor? Left her laying on the Autumn Court border with a nail in her womb? Well SJM is going back on her own canon to redeem yet ANOTHER abusive male, while continuing to demonize Tamlin for things he only happened to do when SJM decided the villain from the first book was sexy.

Nesta and Cassian are Mates.

Remember when Mates were supposed to be a rare and sacred thing? Now SJM dishes them out like Oprah.

I don't want these characters to be mates. I want to see them slowly fall in love. But SJM is incapable of writing that so she forces them together with the mAtInG bOnD. That's literally the only basis for most of these relationships, Feysand especially.

The only relationship where the bond would make sense is between Helion and The Lady of Autumn. Who still isn't named. But I will die on the hill that they're mates, I can feel it between them.

I wanted someone to die in this book. I predicted that it would either be Helion or Tarquin, but Tarquin isn't even in this one.

And the ending.

SJM can't write a decent climax, so she kills both Feyre and Rhysand for the second time. Yep.

The baby is being born which stupidly kills Feyre, and thankfully takes Rhysand with them.

Nesta decides to save them. Bad choice. But she decides to save them! Because she's so powerful and she ATE THE CONTENTS OF THE CAULDRON and she's CONNECTED TO THE MOTHER.

Do you know what happens.

Nesta loses her powers.

NESTA.

LOSES.

HER.

POWERS.

The powers we've hardly seen, the powers that were briefly mentioned and used ONCE in ACOWAR, then we saw like two flashes of in this book? They're GONE now. GONE SO NESTA CAN SAVE HER ABUSIVE SISTER AND ABUSIVE HUSBAND WHO ABUSES THEM BOTH.

Nesta is just an Amren now. They both fought for their powers, and had to give them up to save people who didn't deserve it. Now they're anticlimactically trapped in powerless bodies.

Also, and I can't BELIEVE I didn't originally include this - do you know what else Nesta TRADED HER POWERS FOR?

Illyrian anatomy so she can carry Cassian's baby one day.

EXCUSE ME?

I am so fucking SICK TO DEATH of the narrative that every woman needs a man and children to be happy. SJM clearly loves this because she's literally only keeping Amren and Nesta alive now to be sex objects to their partners and nothing else seeing as their POWERS WERE RIPPED AWAY FROM THEM, and now NESTA TRADED THOSE POWERS TO HAVE A BABY SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW SHE WANTS? Nesta does NOT strike me as a motherly type. She's the wine aunt, she and Cassian are the couple that go on holiday a lot and and babysit their nieces and nephews, but nope. Nesta HAS to have children.

The Feysand baby is called Nyx. That's just so underwhelming, you go from these huge, multiple syllable names like Amarantha and Morrigan and Lucien to Nyx? I get it's supposed to be unique but it's not even meaningful. It's just more shit-flavoured icing on the hAHa nIgHt uWu cake. I prefer Renesmée.

Nesta is wrong somehow. She says she's sorry as she's saving them. FOR WHAT? For being a little rude to Feyre as all sisters are? And rightfully hating your sister's abuser?

Oh yeah, remember in ACOWAR when Nesta took care of a comatose, starving Elain for months? Elain is randomly okay now because she takes care of her mental health the stereotypical way of baking cakes, and not drinking and fucking, which she shames Netsa for.

Remember the slut shaming, demeaning comments that the whole iNnEr cIrClE made about Nesta? They all expect apologies from her. For some reason.

Nesta has done nothing wrong. She coped with her trauma and minded her business in her own ways, and she's expected to apologise to the people who control and emotionally abuse her.

Nothing that any of these characters did to Nesta is right. Nesta wasn't okay at the end, this wasn't Nesta's healing story. This is Nesta being shamed and degraded until she submits.

Oh I can't believe I forgot to write this in my first draft of this review, do you know how Nesta "overcomes" her grief about her Father's death and her conflicting feelings about him and his life and her guilt? When she visits his grave for the first time, she takes Nyx.

NYX.

She holds NYX up to the grave and talks about how it's his grandson.

GO AWAY YOU STUPID DEMON BABY THIS IS NOT YOUR BOOK.

Speaking of, it's revealed that Nesta was abused by her mother and grandmother in this book? Something we were all looking forward to is seeing more of the Archeron's mother seeing as Feyre was so young when she died, but... nope. She gets a few vague mentions, and this newly revealed abuse is entirely glossed over. Nesta was also actively groomed by an older man at 14. But SJM glosses over this because of course she does.

Finally, the bonus chapters.

My edition came with a bonus chapter from Feyre's POV. It was pointless and I hated it.

There's another bonus chapter from Azriel's POV. Once I'd finished this book, he was one of the few characters I still harboured a shred of respect for.

Then I read his bonus chapter.

This exists to purely objectify Elain.

Whether you ship Elain with Azriel, or Lucien, or neither, this chapter is disgusting. He thinks about her coming on his tounge, and other things simply just to please him.

He then dares to suggest that "the Cauldron picked wrong" in choosing Lucien as Elain's mate?

No Azriel, SJM picked RIGHT in not giving each Archeron sister a bAt bOy.

Rhysand does the only right thing he's ever done by telling Azriel to stay away from Elain, but then he has to ruin it by clarifying that it's only so they can manipulate and use Lucien more.

Oh, and Azriel wants to kill Lucien.

Need I remind you that Lucien respects Azriel? Lucien is another victim of the Night Court's needless, baseless torment, and Azriel is no exception.

Lucien stays well out of Elain's way because she makes it clear that she's not interested in a mate, but Azriel wants to kill him simply for being her mate.

Lucien has done nothing. And I mean literally NOTHING to warrant any of this treatment. From the bAt bOyS, from Feyre, from his family, from SJM, from the deluded part of this fandom that think he's done wrong. NOTHING.

All I liked about this book was the Lucien scenes (which is a given), ((although I hated the way everyone talks about him behind his back)), Nesta's relationship with the house, Emerie and Gwyn, the evidence that Gwynriel is endgame and subsequently Elucien, and the book love. Everything else was horrible. Oh, and Nesta hates Rhysand. I love that for her, because everyone else bows at his feet.

Oh yeah, when Nesta DARES suggest that Rhysand is an "arrogant, preening asshole" which I think is a compliment, Cassian can't take Rhys' cock out of his mouth for one second, and has to get mad at her for having an opinion. Don't even get me started on Azriel in that scene.

If each book after ACOTAR made me slowly give up, this book made me give up altogether. I cannot go on to support this victim-blaming, abuse-forgiving, misogynistic series. I've given up on SJM, and the only characters I care about anyone are Lucien, Nesta, Helion, and Tarquin. I'll continue to read this series to see if SJM redeems herself, but I'll be downloading them for free. I'm not giving this piece of shit any more of my money.

I hope we don't get the Lucien book. I don't want her to slaughter my fox in the way she slaughtered LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE.

Thanks for listening.

Edit: I put the review on Goodreads!

[bokettochild]

If you’re still taking requests maybe Legend showing off his outfits from Triforce Heroes (if you consider that one of his games) or just the fierce deity outfit if that’s to much

Good grief! This one really took it away! I liked the prompt so much, and had so many ideas for it, that I think this might have to be a multi-parter (wasn't expecting that).

I touched on three outfits in this one, but I have six more I might do as well. For reference, I included the Kolkiri Clothes, Linebeck's Uniform and the Cozy Parka.

I also realized while writing this that this is the first time I've written from Wind's perspective, which is positively criminal!

I am still taking requests by the way! If you want to see something, shoot it at me!

(Fic below the cut)

It started so normal, Wind never thought it would get so insane.

They were in the Old Man’s Hyrule, too far from the ranch to make it by nightfall but close enough to still be in a relatively safe location. Time had called for them to set up camp and as they were close to a stream, Twilight had called for the additional order of baths.

Watching Twilight drag his protégé into the water was almost worth having to have his head scrubbed by Sky.

Most of them had taken the chance to cool off and mess around once they were clean, and while Warriors attempted to duck Time under the water (a mistake, they soon realized, when the man easily overpowered the captain, who ended up getting dunked instead) and Wild sat in a tree watching their backs (hanging up to dry, Twilight had joked), Wind found that the rest of them were content to swim idly in the water, with only the occasional splash from one or another of them. Usually, there would be more noise, but Twilight was teaching Hyrule to doggie paddle, and they needed calmer waters so as to not scare the Traveler.

He cast his eyes over their group. A red-faced Warriors was coughing and spluttering out insults at a smug looking Time (boy he needed his picto-box), Twilight was gently coaxing Hyrule to the other bank in a manner highly resemblant of a parent urging a baby to walk, Wild was keeping watch, and Sky was relaxing in the shallows.

Where were Four and Legend?

A glance upwards and a signed conversation with Wild later and Wind was making his way upstream a way, around a bend that blocked off most of the noise but that Wild could still see over if needed, to where Four and Legend sat together one the bank.

Or rather, Legend sat, Four was floating in the shallows with a curious expression as he watched the vet- cleaning clothes?

“We’re out here having a good time and you’re doing the laundry? Boring much.” He drawled, drawing the attention of the two heroes.

“I don’t like swimming around others.” Legend scrunched up his nose in disgust, it wiggled, almost cutely. “And my things needed a wash.”

He snorted, turning his questioning gaze to Four.

The smithy shrugged. “It’s quieter over here, and Wars will try and dunk me if he gets the chance.” A heavy sigh escaped the shortest hero. “He really needs to be taken down a notch some days.”

“Some days?” Legend snorted.

Wind just rolled his eyes. So, what if Wars had a bit of an ego and spent a lot of time messing with them? It was just the way the captain expressed himself, Wind would do the same if he could get away with it and had a few inches on the others.

A flash of color in the spring caught his attention, bright pink against the soft blue of the water, and he surged forwards. “What’s that?”

Legend’s hand hit his face as the vet reached out to push him back, effectively pushing the excited child under water, and for a brief moment, Wind could swear he saw a pink skirt drifting just before his face before it disappeared and he was popping up out of the water again with a splash.

“You have pink clothes?” He grinned at the bundle of fabric in the Vet’s hands.

“I have clothes in all colors.” Legend sniffed, batting another piece of fabric at him in a shooing motion.

“Doubt.” Four and Wind deadpanned. “Nobody has that much clothing.”

Legend’s face was drawn, eyes dark with that haunted look that Time sometimes got when looking at the moon. “I do.”

Wind and Four exchanged a look. “Why would you even need so much clothing?”

“Adventure number six.” Legend sighed, returning to his washing.

Another shared glance was exchanged and the two boys swam closer to the older teen. “And you used all of it?” Legend nodded. “All by yourself?”

The vet paused. “I had some...friends, with me.”

“You have friends?” Wind sat up again, who knew the Vet actually got along with people other than Ravio and Zelda?

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, Wind, that’s kinda mean.” Four murmured.

“I don’t mean you don’t have friends,” He huffed bangs from his eyes to look at Legend better, it did nothing, they still drifted into his view and cut off his view of the top of Legend’s hat. “I mean, we’ve never seen them so I didn’t realize you were on good terms with more people than Ravio.”

Legend shrugged. “You probably won’t ever meet them, I... became acquainted with them outside of Hyrule and they’ve never been seen leaving the land where we traveled together.”

“What were their names?” Four asked lazily, eyes trailing after leaves that floated off downstream towards where the others were.

Legend’s snort caught them off guard. “You don’t want to know.”

Now that was interesting, Legend never shied away from giving names to the people he had met in his travels, what was so different about these people? He’d had nothing against telling them Ravio’s name. “Why not?” Curiosity was tickling at his just like his hair was, and it was the only thing keeping him from ducking under again to relieve the itching of slowly-drying hair.

Legend cocked a brow at the two of them. “Their names are worse than ours.”

Now Wind really wanted to know! “What were they?”

Four echoed his question, eyes glinting in the light as he stared over at the vet, who was now beginning to pack away his things again. It took some nagging (something Wind had plenty of experience with) to finally get Legend to answer, but when he did, he didn’t disappoint.

“Red, Blue and Green. A set of nut cases if you ask me.” Legend drawled, not looking at them as he stuffed something glittery and gold in his bag. Four froze, eyes flashing four colors, one after another for a moment before he turned his sharp gaze on the vet.

“Did they call you Vio by any chance?”

Wind stared. “Why would they do that? He already has a name, he wouldn’t need to match, besides, Legend doesn’t even wear purple.”

“His eyes are purple.” Four pointed out, and Wind turned to very pointedly try and see what color Legend’s eyes actually were.

They were purple.

“No, they didn’t call me Vio,” Legend rolled his eyes, pushing Wind out of his face again. “They call me Link, same as any sane person does.”

“We’re sane.” Wind protested.

“Debatable.” The two older heroes deadpanned.

Wind pouted, but let it go, gaze drifting for a moment as he let silence fall over them. Four was staring at Legend in a suspicious manner, eyes blue again, but he didn’t say anything, and the vet didn’t seem keen on saying anything either, instead getting up and walking over to the clothes he had draped across one of the trees. He wasn’t kidding, it looked like a rainbow over there.

“So, if those things belonged to your friends, why do you have them?”

“Only one with a bottomless bag.” Came the clipped reply. “That and I’m the only one who’s likely to need them again.”

“Your friends don’t need clothes?” Four balked.

“No! Of course, they do!” Legend made a face, swatting a hand at Four. “Wild’s the only one who goes around naked, I’ll have you know, and if any of them had done the same they would have been shunned by the whole kingdom.” The vet huffed, voice dropping to a mutter. “What with the fashion laws and all.”

“So, if they already have clothes of their own, what did you need all for this for?” He gestured towards the various garments that Legend was still packing away.

“They’re all enchanted, or otherwise intended for special purposes.” The vet winced. “Hopefully I’ll never need most of them again, but there’s always the chance.”

“Will we ever get to see them?” He watched as Legend stuffed another garment into one of his bags many pockets.

“Hopefully never.” Legend spat.

But when did things ever go Legend’s way?

It was a hat first.

A battle in the forest ended with black blood spattered everywhere, but with Legend and Wild having provided support from the sidelines in the form of arrows flying across the battlefield, injuries were more scarce than normal.

Of course, that could be attributed to the fact that there had only been a few of the black-blooded monsters in the camp they had just destroyed.

As most of them had gathered their weapons and wiped away the blood, Wild had come leaping down from the treetops with Legend following after at a more sedate pace. Wind wondered if that was because of the Vet’s arthritis is because of the huge hat on his head.

“Nice accessories, do some shopping while we were down here fighting?” Wars snarked, huffing a laugh at the vet as Legend’s feet touched the earth again.

Indigo blue snapped at the captain as Legend adjusted the pointed cap. “No time for that when I have you all to keep an eye on.”

Twilight sniggered. “What’s with the hat, Ledge?”

“Yeah!” Wind bounded up to the older hero, eyes wide as he looked at the strange accessory. “Where did you get that?”

“Is that one of the things you got on your last adventure?” Four mused, sparking further excitement in the sailor, if it was, than maybe Legend would actually be willing to tell them more about it!

“Yeah, is it?”

No one addressed the confused stares of the taller heroes as their three shortest members conversed.

“Yeah,” Legend lifted the hat off and brushed at its brim in a clearly fond display; if he even attempted to say anything about hating his adventure again Wind was not going to believe him, not after that smile. “A Kolkiri hat, made to aid archers and help them shoot more arrows. I don’t usually use it, but it helps when you need to take out more than one enemy at once.”

“You could just learn to shoot better.” Wild chuckled, plucking at the hats brim only to have the garment whisked out of reach by a glaring veteran.

“I can shoot well; this just helps me see better because it blocks the freaking sun.”

“Kolkiri you say?” Time mused, stepping forwards to peer at the pointed green cap.

“Sure, you didn’t just steal it off of a witch?” Wars teased.

“No witch could replicate this sort of quality,” And if there wasn’t pride in his voice than Wind would eat his boots. “Not even the finest tailors in all of Hytopia could imitate it, and they’ve tried.” Legend spun the hat in his hands before popping it back on top of his head. “Don’t know the tailor, but what I wouldn’t give to learn their tricks. Kolkiri know what they’re doing, and they do it better than most Hylian craftsmen.”

Time was smirking, and Wind really wanted to know why. “You should see the tunics they can make.”

Legend returned the smirk. “Oh, I have, I own one.”

“As do I,” Their resident old man chuckles. “Although I doubt I could fit in it any longer.”

Wind giggles, trying to imagine Time in the clothes he’s seen on the spirits of the kolkiri, it’s hard, what with how big their leader is.

“Hat might fit you though.” And as the words ring through the air, Legend is already reaching up to pull the brim of his pointed hat over Time’s face. Their leader chuckles, brushing Legend off and adjusting the hat to sit more securely on his head.

Somehow, Time looks more comfortable in the hat than he does in his armor, and even though the two clash terribly, he doesn’t seem to mind, a light smile gracing his features as they set off again.

It’s a few days before Legend brings out another item from his collection of clothes, and when he does, it’s only after the others have drifted off to sleep. Wind would have been sleeping too, but you can only stay awake so long when your mind replays the horrors of the past, and Wind can only watch in silence for so long as giant ocean-monsters attempt to destroy those he loves the most. Tetra’s scream echoes in his own cracking voice as he startles awake.

The stars shine brightly overhead, brighter still as they blur from his tears. Despite what the others might say, or the confident way he tries to convey himself, Bellum frightens him, even now, and everything he had to deal with on that adventure... it weighs heavy on his mind.

A strangles sob escapes him as he sits up to bury his head in his knees, arms wrapped tight around his legs as he tries to shake of the after-effects of the dream.

That’s all it was, after all, just a dream.

Just like the Ocean King, like Lineback, like everything else in that world had been.

It’s just a dream.

“Hey,” Legend’s voice is soft and almost lost in his sobs and the crackling of the fire, but Wind is used to listening for even the softest of sounds in the night; be it due to Aryl having a night-terror –her own dreams aren’t free from their adventure- or someone sneaking around to make trouble. “Sailor, you all good?”

It’s clear he’s not, and he knows that, so Legend really has no business asking, but at the very least he isn’t being told to stop being a baby. “’m okay.” His own voice betrays him and Wind wants to sigh in irritation. Usually, he’d pout and groan at the way his voice cracks, but right now he doesn’t have the emotional or mental strength to do anything about it.

There’s shifting from across the camp, and even though his head is still pressed against his raised knees, he sees a flicker of golden pink in the firelight as Legend crouches down before him.

Thank Hylia the vet doesn’t sit back on his ankles, Wind doesn’t want to know if he’s not wearing shorts under that skirt of his.

“None of that now, what’s eating you?” It’s a weird term, especially coming from Legend, who’s usually so clipped and professional in his speech, and Wind can’t help but huff out a short laugh.

“Nothing,” His hand dashes across his eyes, wiping the tears away, only to have more of them prick at the corners. “Go back to watch, I’m fine.”

“And Twilight is a dog person.” Legend drawls. “Look, if you have an emotional moment or whatever, you’ll be tired as shit when we have to leave in the morning. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel keen on dealing with another Sky.” It’s rough and gruff, but in a way that reminds him of Lineback rather than make him upset.

“I’m fine, just...” He dwells on his next words for a moment. He’s not scared, not really. It’s just the aftershock of a too-real dream about another too-real dream. He’s not really sad either, even if the island is gone now, he’s just... “I’m drained.” He whispers, scrubbing his eyes. “I miss everything back at home but,” He pauses, wondering briefly if Legend could even understand what he’s trying to express. “I guess I miss the things that aren’t there too.”

“Like what?” He doesn’t look up, but he knows the exact expression on Legend’s face; brow raised and mouth pulled into a thoughtful frown.

“Places... people. It’s all just dreams but..” He fiddles with the end of his blanket. “I miss the warmth of them I guess, miss the sea and the islands, even the fake ones, they were so... comforting.” He chuckles, surprising himself with the bitterness that tinges his own voice. “Even if I did spend so much of that time trying not to get killed.”

“Warmth, huh?” Legend hums. There’s a brief pause, one Wind almost takes for Legend rolling his eyes and deciding to leave him to his thoughts, but then there’s a brief rustling and something warm and thick settles over his shoulders as Legend sits at his side. “It’s no pirate uniform, but it still smells like the sea, if that helps at all.”

Wind wants to tease Legend for the sentimentality and love in the action, but when he turns to look at the Vet, his gaze falls instead on the royal blue coat that has been draped around his shoulders.

Too-long sleeves fall to fold at his waist while the rest of the long coat trails and puddles around him, rich, warm fabric blocking out the night chill. It’s a lovely coat, but it’s painfully familiar, and Wind finds himself running his fingers over the stitching and inspecting every detail with a precision that he only ever shows to his swordsmanship and sailing.

His eyes don’t fool him either, the coat is an exact copy of Lineback’s own.

“Where... where did you get this?”

“Like it?” The vet chuckles softly. “Hytopian tailors. It’s a sea-coat, made to aid traveling sailor’s in searching for treasure. Don't ask me how it works though,” A ringed hand waves lazily overhead. “I could never make sense of it all. What matters is that it’s warm, not even the ocean can chill you in that thing, and trust me,” Buck teeth and small canines shouldn’t look so chilling, but Legend’s smile is just that. “It’s tried.”

Wind decides not to push it. There’s no way Legend could know about Lineback, not with the gaps of time and timelines between them. So, instead, he nestles down into the coat, one which bears the promised scent of the sea, with just a hint of smoke and rum to it, and lets his mind drift off again while Legend hums something under his breath.

The vet doesn’t realize he’s humming any less than he realizes Wind is slumping into him, but by the time he does recognize it, Wind is out cold, his head pressed against Legend’s shoulder, the coat still draped over him as he snores softly. Legend doesn’t push down the warmth in his chest as he smiles down at the golden curls, no one will see him anyway. Gnarled fingers decked out with countless rings card through sun-bleached curls as a lilting melody pierces the silence around them, no one will hear it anyway.

In the days to come, Legend allows Wind to don the heavy sea-coat from that night. Warriors makes a comment about poor coordination between fabrics, and while Legend doesn’t seem to disagree, both of the older heroes seem of the opinion that it's for the best he holds onto it, what with the cold and all.

The last switch landed them in the mountains, and while the Hyrule they are in has not yet been confirmed, everyone knows one thing for sure: it’s cold. Wind buries his face in the raised collar of the heavy sea-coat, which, despite being in Legend’s bag for so long and the vet refusing to smoke or sail, much less swig rum, the coat smells of all three, and Wind buries a smile at the thought that maybe Legend didn’t get it new like he’d let on.

It does a good job of keeping him warm though.

He wishes he could say the same for Four.

The poor smithy refuses to be carried, but as snow whips around them as they trek through the knee-high snow, the diminutive smith is left chattering and shivering in their wake.

It really shouldn’t be a surprise that Legend has something to help with that.

Yes, the vet still isn’t wearing pants, but he doesn’t seem too poorly off, no matter how badly the others shiver. He and Wild only share a look and scoff when Warriors asks through chattering teeth how the two of them aren’t freezing.

“You should see the mountains in my Hyrule.” Wild chuckles brightly.

“Done this before, cold is cold, you get used to it.” Legend grins, swinging his fire-rod.

“N-not all of us c-can s-st-stand the c-c-cold.” Four chatters grumpily, sounding startlingly close to the minish he’s shown Wind in the past. “Jer-jerks.”

The concern on the faces of the taller heroes is obvious, but with Twilight’s teeth chattering nearly madly (the rancher's nose is somehow frozen) and Time wrapped as tight as possible in one of Wild’s extra cloaks, it’s clear most of the others don’t have warm things to spare.

They were separated in landing in this world, and even when they had all been pulling themselves together again it had become clear that there was nothing of Wild’s that could even fit the smithy, and not even the blue scarf that trails over his shoulders seems to be doing much good against the freezing winds.

“Hang on a sec.” legend huffs, already turning to rustle through his bag. The coat he pulls out is ridiculously plushy, and in a soft shade of violet that makes Four chuckle past his chattering teeth. The chattering doesn’t last for much longer though, not when shoves the garment over Four’s head like Wind has done to his sister so many times with the sweaters Granny has knit them. The smithy’s blond hair is mused beyond recognition, chunky and flying every which way as he pushes his face out of the plush, but the healthy flush to his cheeks assures the rest of them that he won’t be freezing any time soon.

“I- Oh...” Whatever Four was about to say cuts off as he looks down at himself. The coat is long, but not too long. Where Wild’s shirts would drown the smithy, a coat made for Legend only brushes against the smithy’s ankles.

Legend smirks. “It prevents slipping too.”

“Why aren’t you wearing it then?” Hyrule questions, the Traveler’s cheeks are rosy in the cold, but borrowed clothes from Wild, while also too big, seem to be keeping him warmer.

Legend winces. “It’s a pain to get off.”

“And inconvenience is enough reason to freeze?”

“Do I look cold to you, captain?” Legend snarks, turning an expectant look on Warriors. “Because I certainly don’t feel it.”

“Stop rubbing it in.” The captain huffs, unfortunately too big to borrow from the others, and now highly irritable from the cold. His scarf is still on Four, and if what Legend says is right about the coat, Wars won’t be getting it back for a while, leaving the poor captain to shiver as he clings to another fire-rod.

Four seems comfy enough anyway.