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apollosgiftofprophecy · 6 months ago

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The Copollogism Essays - Part 2: The Assassination Scene

Part 1 (The Tent) ~ Part 2 (The Assassination) ~ Part 3 (Lester's Reaction) ~ Part 4 (Leo's Questions/Seeing Commodus Again) ~ Part 5 (The Arena) ~ Part 6 (The Waystation) ~ Part 7 (The Yacht) ~ Part 8 (The Final Moment)

Analysis: Part 1 (Apollo and Commodus as Individuals) ~ Part 2 (Toxic Relationship?) ~ Part 3 (Codependent - Or Is It?) ~ Part 4 (Other Thoughts)

Oh ho ho ho. Here it is. The One You Have Been Waiting For.

A little personal background–

This was the scene that I remembered that made me pick the Trials of Apollo books back up last year.

It was this scene that brought me back into the fandom.

Everyone say thank you to this scene because it is a masterpiece and I sure damn well hope I do it justice.

Anyway. Let us begin~

I KNOW WHAT YOU are thinking. But, Apollo! You are divine! You cannot commit murder. Any death you cause is the will of the gods and entirely beyond reproach. It would be an honor if you killed me! I like the way you think, good reader. It’s true I had laid waste to whole cities with my fiery arrows. I had inflicted countless plagues upon humanity. Once Artemis and I slew a family of twelve because their mama said something bad about our mama. The nerve! None of that did I consider murder.

None of that, none of the deaths Apollo has caused, did he consider murder.

But Commodus’s he does.

This has always stuck out to me, even when I first read the books.

The praetorian prefect Laetus had pulled me aside only an hour ago: We failed at lunch. This is our last chance. We can take him, but only with your help. Marcia, Commodus’s mistress, had wept as she tugged at my arm. He will kill us all. He will destroy Rome. You know what must be done! They were right. I’d seen the list of names—the enemies real or imagined whom Commodus intended to execute tomorrow. Marcia and Laetus were at the top of the list, followed by senators, noblemen, and several priests in the temple of Apollo Sosianus.

Something that was pointed out by @amiti-art was how Apollo’s priests were set to be killed. This is baffling for a couple reasons: 1) Apollo is well known to deliver terrible punishments onto those who even treat his priests with disrespect (Agamemnon in The Iliad got a nice plague for his disrespect); and 2) Why would Commodus do this? Why would he specifically kill Apollo’s priests?

I suggested it could be a way to “get his attention” so to speak. Because remember, in Part 1, we know Apollo left after Marcus has died. And now, Commodus is deep into his paranoia and lashing out at everyone and everything he perceives as a threat.

Perhaps something triggered him to think the priests were some sort of threat, or maybe he’s so far in his delusions that he thinks he can have everything be “fixed” if he draws Apollo back to him. As we saw in Part 1, Commodus looked to Apollo first at the news of Marcus’s death— maybe even now, he’s trying to rebuild that bridge because everything’s falling apart.

If so…he did not think it through 😬 I mean… *eyes the plague Agamemnon got; Clytemnestra being killed by her own son for murdering Cassandra* yeah…things don’t end well for those who mess with the people in Apollo’s cult.

I pushed open the bronze doors of the emperor’s chambers. From the shadows, Commodus bellowed, “GO AWAY!” A bronze pitcher sailed past my head, slamming into the wall with such force it cracked the mosaic tiles. “Hello to you, too,” I said. “I never did like that fresco.”

*wheeze from alder* I get the feeling there was very casual banter in their relationship lol

Commodus knelt on the floor, clinging to the side of a sofa for support. In the opulence of the bedchamber with its silk curtains, gilded furniture, and colorfully frescoed walls, the emperor looked out of place—like a beggar pulled from some Suburra alley. His eyes were wild. His beard glistened with spittle. Vomit and blood spattered his plain white tunic, which wasn’t surprising considering his mistress and prefect had poisoned his wine at lunch.

This whole paragraph really gives you a glimpse into Commodus’s mindset, even if we don’t see his thoughts. He is quite literally at his wit’s end. His mistress and prefect have just tried to assassinate him. Everyone is against him. He is completely alone; no father, no lover.

Except Narcissus.

But if you could look past that, Commodus hadn’t changed much since he was eighteen, lounging in his campaign tent in the Danubian Forest. He was thirty-one now, but the years had barely touched him. To the horror of Rome’s fashionistas, he had grown his hair out long and had a shaggy beard to resemble his idol, Hercules. Otherwise he was the picture of manly Roman perfection. One might almost have thought he was an immortal god, as he so often claimed to be.

Not very important but short-haired teenaged Commodus canon 👍

Sike, this can be important because it is INTERESTING that Commodus deviates from the traditional Roman culture here. He grows his hair out, as well as a beard. Roman men didn’t typically do that.

But you know who does?

Greek men. Such as Heracles (which is why Commodus does so.)

I find this VERRRYYY interesting, especially paired with his relationship with Apollo. Because if you look at Commodus…he’s not very Roman, no? I’d say he’s more Greek-flavored than Roman.

Because here’s the deal: Besides the longer hair, Commodus (historically, at least) also liked to sing and dance. That was 100% accepted for men to do in Greece, but in Rome?

Rome had a very convoluted attitude towards singing and dancing. It was essentially “oh the upper class OBVIOUSLY can get SUPERB teachers for it, but if they're TOO GOOD AT IT they are NO BETTER THAN A WOMAN OR A SLAVE!!!!”

The kicker here is that the Greeks were typically slaves within Rome. They were regularly hired by the Roman elite to perform music and dances.

(Interesting how Apollo is their god, too.)

Out of all the Romans, out of the Roman elite…Apollo falls in love with the most Greek one he can find.

What’s even better is that Commodus continues the trend of ‘Apollo’s lovers are related to his domains’ because of music and dance.

That is what they bonded over. You bet Apollo made Commodus feel better over what he liked doing when the society he lived in looked down on it.

My poor, precious heart 🥲

“They tried to kill me,” he snarled. “I know it was them! I won’t die. I’ll show them all!” My heart ached to see him this way. Only yesterday, I’d been so hopeful. We’d practiced fighting techniques all afternoon. Strong and confident, he’d wrestled me to the ground and would have broken my neck if I’d been a regular mortal. After he let me up, we’d spent the rest of the day laughing and talking as we used to in the old days. Not that he knew my true identity, but still… disguised as Narcissus, I was sure I could restore the emperor’s good humor, eventually rekindle the embers of the glorious young man I’d once known. And yet this morning, he’d woken up more bloodthirsty and manic than ever.

Ouch. Owie. This hurts.

Time to discuss Apollo’s disguise now.

Narcissus, now, was a real person. But it appears in the RRverse, Narcissus was Apollo the whole time. And Apollo’s goal here was to, and I quote; “restore the emperor’s good humor [and] eventually rekindle the embers of the glorious young man I’d once known.”

Apollo initially disguised himself because he wanted to stop Commodus from going down his bloody, awful path. Apollo had been keeping such a close watch on what was happening that he knew things were getting bad enough to warrant his interference, with the hope of steering his former lover away from a dark fate.

*insert ‘I can fix him!’ meme here* ah, Apollo. If only you could RIP

Also wow, Commous wrestled Apollo— Apollo, who beat Ares in a wrestling match— to the ground? And would have broken his neck if he were mortal?

I’m guessing Apollo was holding back here, considering…well, considering the ending of this scene heh. But I doubt Apollo was a slouch even holding back, so Commodus is probably very good at hand-to-hand combat. Sheer brute force is exactly his style.

I approached cautiously, as if he were a wounded animal. “You won’t die from the poison. You’re much too strong for that.” “Exactly!” He pulled himself up on the couch, his knuckles white with effort. “I’ll feel better tomorrow, as soon as I behead those traitors!” “Perhaps it would be better to rest for a few days,” I suggested. “Take some time to recuperate and reflect.” “REFLECT?” He winced from the pain. “I don’t need to reflect, Narcissus. I will kill them and hire new advisors. You, perhaps? You want the job?”

It’s really telling how much Commodus trusts Apollo— that is to say, Narcissus— here.

It’s also telling how Apollo— his lover— is using his father’s words to get him to stop.

Marcus Aurelius’s advice is coming out of Apollo’s mouth, but Commodus has no idea; he does not know it’s Apollo telling him this.

Not until it’s too late, that is. When it’s revealed once and for all that he has no intention of stopping.

But it does make you wonder what Commodus would have done if he had known it was Apollo. Would the combined might of his father’s advice and his lover be enough to prevent him from killing more innocent people?

Or would it have only made things worse?

I did not know whether to laugh or cry. While Commodus concentrated on his beloved games, he turned the powers of state over to prefects and cronies… all of whom tended to have a very short life expectancy. “I’m just a personal trainer,” I said. “Who cares? I will make you a nobleman! You will rule Commodiana!” I flinched at the name. Outside the palace, no one accepted the emperor’s rechristening of Rome. The citizens refused to call themselves Commodians. The legions were furious that they were now known as Commodianae. Commodus’s crazy proclamations had been the final straw for his long-suffering advisors. “Please, Caesar,” I implored him. “A rest from the executions and the games. Time to heal. Time to consider the consequences.” He bared his teeth, his lips specked with blood. “Don’t you start too! You sound like my father. I’m done thinking about consequences!”

Apollo is once again putting on his Marcus Aurelius hat.

But once again…Commodus does not listen. He’s done listening to wise counsel. He’s done doing what other people have told him to do.

He’s emperor, after all.

Nobody can stop him. He’s blessed, after all. Who would even try?

My spirits collapsed. I knew what would happen in the coming days. Commodus would survive the poisoning. He would order a ruthless purge of his enemies. The city would be decorated with heads on pikes. Crucifixions would line the Via Appia. My priests would die. Half the senate would perish. Rome itself, the bastion of the Olympian gods, would be shaken to its core. And Commodus would still be assassinated…just a few weeks or months later, in some other fashion. I inclined my head in submission. “Of course, Caesar. May I draw you a bath?”

Read no further if you wish for a happy ending 😢

Commodus grunted assent. “I should get out of these filthy clothes.” As I often did for him after our workout sessions, I filled his great marble bath with steaming rose-scented water. I helped him out of his soiled tunic and eased him into the tub. For a moment, he relaxed and closed his eyes. I recalled how he looked sleeping beside me when we were teens. I remembered his easy laugh as we raced through the woods, and the way his face scrunched up adorably when I bounced grapes off his nose.

Their relationship was more carefree in nature. It was more teenager-esque, with Apollo even saying “when we were teens”, despite the fact he is merely a teen in body.

Even so…

I sponged away the spittle and blood from his beard. I gently washed his face. Then I closed my hands around his neck. “I’m sorry.” I pushed his head underwater and began to squeeze.

Apollo begins with gentleness. With cleaning him off. He doesn’t immediately kill him— perhaps to give both of them one last moment of peace.

But then that gentleness turns to murder.

Commodus was strong. Even in his weakened state, he thrashed and fought. I had to channel my godly might to keep him submerged, and in doing so, I must have revealed my true nature to him. He went still, his blue eyes wide with surprise and betrayal. He could not speak, but he mouthed the words: You. Blessed. Me.

Apollo is forced to reveal himself in all his glory— and in that moment, they are both aware of his betrayal. Commodus is floored by what he sees— by who he sees.

This isn’t merely his trainer who he has grown to trust.

This is his lover who he has loved for decades.

The lover who blessed and reassured him that everything would be fine.

But it’s not.

Apollo’s the one with the hands around his throat, and all Commodus can do is throw his promise back in his face: You. Blessed. Me.

*and this is the moment everyone knew: they started bawling*

Tissues, anyone?

The accusation forced a sob from my throat. The day his father died, I had promised Commodus: You will always have my blessings. Now I was ending his reign. I was interfering in mortal affairs—not just to save lives, or to save Rome, but because I could not stand to see my beautiful Commodus die by anyone else’s hands.

And even at the end, we can still see the toxicity that permeates their relationship.

Commodus took Apollo’s love and support for granted. He thought he could do anything he wished because he had the love and blessing of a god.

Apollo loved Commodus so much that he couldn’t stand the thought of someone else killing him. He could have kept his own hands clean of the kill, but he did not.

Because he wouldn’t be able to bear it to allow someone else to do the deed.

His last breath bubbled through the whiskers of his beard. I hunched over him, crying, my hands around his throat, until the bathwater cooled.

Even after Commodus is dead and gone, Apollo stays sitting there. Crying. He is utterly distraught by what he has done, and will continue to torment himself over it.

Perhaps even for eternity.

Britomartis was wrong. I didn’t fear water. I simply couldn’t look at the surface of any pool without imagining Commodus’s face, stung with betrayal, staring up at me.

That, my friends, is how you write an ending. That is how you write a tragic, doomed romance.

This is the deepest romance in all of Rick’s books. And we’ve only gotten through the flashback scenes.

We— and Rick— are merely getting warmed up.

#ramblings of an oracle #copollo #toa meta #toa analysis #the trials of apollo #trials of apollo #pjo apollo #toa apollo #toa commodos #apollodus #apollo x commodus #toa #pjo hoo toa

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Astarion x reader (Tav)

Prompt: Astarion wants to repay you for all the blood you share with him!

Description: There was an undeniable attraction between the two of you; Astarion could taste it on your skin before he took a bite, see it in the way you couldn't meet his eyes when you spoke to him. Perhaps you just needed him to push you in the right direction. He did owe you, after all.

Rating: sfw (ikr)

Word Count: 1869

Content Warnings: fem reader (use of she/her), reader is mentioned to be a cleric of selune but it's just a liddle bit, the first part is dub conish until Astarion Realizes (there's nothing crazy, they only get as far as removing clothing), ask to tag!

Notes: Okay this was originally supposed to be not sfw. right. I had this whole dub con scene planned out and it was gonna be so GOOD but. then I remembered I can't write nsfw (at least I can't do it quickly lol) so I decided to make a version where Astarion makes the right choice instead. I still have plans to write the original (I imagine you can find the part in this where I decided to go another direction lol) because as much as we stan a man who grows. I am also here for a guy who doesn't learn at all and perpetuates his own hurt and grief on to other people (me). Also wow I need to get more screenshots of Astarion...

That night, not too long ago. When your blood singed louder to him than anything had before. When you laid gently before him, not even stirring. Trusting your allies. Trusting him. It was all so intoxicating-- so much so, that he couldn’t help but take a bite.

Perhaps it was luck, perhaps it was because you sensed him, or perhaps because something holy in you sensed something wretched in him. You awoke before Astarion could sink his teeth in you, before he could taste your sweet blood and feel your fleeting pulse under his fingertips.

He had expected a stake in a chest, the loss of this terrible life. What he hadn’t expected was your sympathy-- nor your understanding. No, when you invited him to dine on your blood (with such an adorable look on your face-- it’s a wonder he was the first to taste you), nearly let him kill you because you didn’t know how to tell him to stop-- it was a gift. One he truly hadn’t forgotten. Especially when, sweet as sugar, you invited him to drink of you again.

After all this, you deserved to be payed back! You had given him so much it was only fair Astarion share what he could with you. As it happened, the only currency he had was his body and you were being a little too stubborn to take his kindness.

“Astarion, really--” He had cornered you in your tent. Everyone else was asleep at this time of night, but not you, little adherent of the moon maiden. Your prayers had only just concluded as he invited himself in (a luxury he was sure to abuse now that he could).

“No darling, I insist.” He scoots in closer to you, chasing your warmth. “Let me make it up to you. I want you to feel as good as you make me feel.” His cool breath ghosts upon your skin, and he delights in the way your cheeks flare in the pale light of your candles.

“I’m just not sure about it.” You spare a glance at Astarion and have to quickly look away from him. He’s really putting on the charm tonight and if you continue to look his way, it might work.

“Well why not?” Astarion isn’t having it, cupping your cheek so you look to his face, to his wide red eyes. “I know you’re attracted to me. When you think I’m not looking you can’t keep your eyes off me, but as soon as I look your way…” Astarion takes a moment to appreciate the color on your cheeks, the way you seem to look for an escape a moment before giving in and looking into his eyes.

“It’s not that, trust me, I think you’re very nice to look at…” You close your eyes a moment, trying to gather yourself and your thoughts. You just, didn’t know how to breach the topic. You knew it wasn’t embarrassing, but to have to tell Astarion of all people that you were still a virgin… Well, it but a knot in your stomach.

“Well then what is it?” He urged, hand tracing down your cheek to rest on your neck, to the spot where he had tasted your sweet, sweet blood again and again.

“I’ve just. Never laid with anyone before!” You say the words quickly, closing your eyes lest you see his reaction to the truth.

“Really?” Astarion can’t deny the excitement that floods through him. This merely sweetens the pot for him. To have a precious little cleric share her virgin blood with him (Astarion can merely smirk at how mad that would make Cazador), to have her promise to take down that same wretched master, and now to induce in her in a way no one else ever had. Why, it’s as much a gift for him as it is for her! With that, Astarion cools his expression, tries to chill the desire suddenly running through him.

“Aww, a little cleric of Seluné, having never felt the touch of another?” Astarion can’t help but coo, his words smooth as he teases. Cliche, perhaps, but still enticing. “Saving yourself for someone special?” He laughs again. “Or perhaps saving yourself for me?”

“I didn’t say--” Astarion cuts you off with a soft ‘shh’, gently lowering you down on your bedroll.

“You didn’t have too, darling. I can see in you what you can’t speak aloud.” He moves atop you, leering over you with a devilish look in his eyes. “You want this just as bad as I do, you just do have the words to say it.” With that, he descends upon you, lips meeting in what you can only call a sweet kiss. Sweet enough, in fact, to lure you in; soft and kind for fleeting precious moments before his hunger wins over and you are devoured like the treat you are. He’s overwhelming; hands upon you, peeling away you camp clothing and craving your warmth. He barely parts from your mouth, just enough for a heady intake of you.

“How did I manage to hold back for so long?” His words are spoken with a large, savored sigh. “Just look at you, all needy and obedient under me. A perfect little pet.” His words have your whole body flushing. You could probably easily push him away-- you know you’re stronger than him and if your desperate you’ve a war hammer not even a meter away from where the two of you lay. But you aren’t sure you want to. Aren’t sure if you should.

When Astarion lifts the hem of your shirt, you lift your arms for him, so the fabric can be thrown away. So too does his shirt go. When his hands snake to your pants, and wiggle them past your hips, past your thighs to join you prayer book in the far corner, you do not stop him. Nor do you stop him from removing his own worn and threadbare pants; they join you other clothing in the small confines of your tent, until the two of you are left in your undergarments, looking at one another with wonder and lust and fear and everything that stands between.

You hadn’t noticed you were trembling until Astarion leaned in close to you again, taking your hand in his. “Sorry, I just,” The words tumble out of you before you can think to stop them. “Just, nervous.” You manage to get out, carefully tracing his features for any hint of teasing or remark.

“That’s alright,” Astarion pauses, because he can’t quite remember the last time someone looked as scared as he always felt. He stops and considers a moment if this was something you truly wanted-- but if it wasn’t you wouldn’t have let him get this far in the first place, would you? But then he sighs, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours with his eyes closed.

“This isn’t right, is it?” Astarion pauses a moment, opening his eyes to really take you in. You were still shaking like a leaf, eyes wide and fearful. It was like looking into a mirror for the first time in 200 years. How could he even think to force you into this when it was something he had tried to avoid the entirety of his undead life?

“It’s…” You sigh and shake your head no. “It was never that I didn’t like you, or find you attractive… I’m just not ready. But… I didn’t want to lose the chance to be with you, either.” You admit. “I should have stopped you but…” You pause as Astarion gently pulls off of you.

“No, I should have…” Astarion pauses as well, pushing air out through his nose. “I should have listened to you.” He sits, turned away from you, and you study the intricate runes on his back as you both take a long moment to speak.

“I… should leave.” Astarion moves to get his clothing together, and you sit up straight as well.

“Wait! Just because I don’t want to have sex, doesn’t mean I don’t like your company.” You pull on your own shirt as well, watching as he turns your way with a confused look on his face. “I still like spending time with you.” You admit, face just as pink as when you admitted you were a virgin.

“… You really do, don’t you?” Astarion settles a moment, watching your face as your bright eyes flash his way a moment. “Even if you did try to lie it would be easy to tell…” He retreats to his thoughts a moment, considering his next move. “If I do stay, what would you have us do?” He rests again as you sheepishly pull your pants back on under his watchful gaze.

“Well…” You look to him. “I liked being close to you, actually.” You admit. “It was nice to be held by you.” You seem shy all the sudden, but your request is rather tame compared to what Astarion was more than ready to do to you.

“You just want to cuddle?” Astarion is equal parts surprised and amused. It’s not as if he hadn’t but, well it had never been with anyone he dared to care about. You are different, in that sense. He’s put a lot of chips on you, no doubt… And though he wouldn’t dare to put a title to it, there is a certain sense of affection he held for you. One that, perhaps he can indulge for now. “Well… I suppose there’s no harm in that.”

You light up. “Really?” You smile at him, wide and unabashed. Astarion finds he likes that look much better than the fear you wore mere minutes earlier. It suits you much better. “You don’t mind?”

Astarion scoffs, perhaps to hide his own excitement at the prospect. “I said I pay you back, didn’t I? Who am I to complain how you decide to spend our time together?” He acts nonchalant but you can’t help but keep smiling. “Now, come here.” Astarion scoots in closer to you, holding his arms out and makes a little grabby motion with his hands. You can’t help but giggle but nonetheless comply, moving in closer to him and allowing him to encircle his arms around you. You circle an arm around his neck, and rest one on his chest, sighing in content.

“This is nice.” You hum out, eyes closed as you snuggle closer to him. Astarion can’t help but admire how serene you look.

“You’re still shaking…” He notes, even as he holds you close and tries to follow your lead. Isn’t this what you wanted?

“This time, it really is nerves.” You confirm, opening your eyes to look at his face. “I’m okay though, I promise.” You cuddle in closer to him, once again closing your eyes. It’s both quite alarming and fascinating how much you seem to trust Astarion but… This time, he won’t be that trust to shame.

The two of you would go at this (whatever this was, he noted; everything seemed strange and new) at your pace. Because maybe, just maybe… that was what Astarion needed too.

#Astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #here we go again boys #can you believe he's not even my fav #i just keep having these ideas

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kattythingz · 1 month ago

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I'll release your men and I'll get you to the Underworld instead / Wait, you're helping us?

BACK ON MY CIRCE AU BULLSHIT, WHAT'S UP. This time with a proper scene (and close-ups) under the cut!!! Many thanks to my dearest @sirchenchen for drawing Ling as amazingly as always, everyone check out her other art, it's just as amazing!! This scene was yet again inspired by a gorgeous animatic, so check that out too for context and to have your eyes blessed~

Ling stopping Ed gently during There Are Other Ways, telling him, “I do think you’re beautiful. But I have more respect for you than that. And I think you have more respect for yourself than that too.”

Ed’s stunned. “What are you—?”

“I’m telling you no, Edward.”

So succinctly. And yet…

Respect. That’s the word Ling used. Respect for Ed? After he blushed at him and looked at him like that, just like every man before him has?

It should be laughable how bizarre the concept is to Ed. But all he can do is sit back unconsciously from Ling, allowing him to rise too.

“I understand now why you responded to our arrival with hostility,” Ling says softly. “And I must clarify, if any of my men did anything to imply otherwise—we are here for no such thing. I am not here for such a thing. We sought your island for rest from the storm, and, truly, the party’s only intent had been to scout for our safety. We mean you and your own no harm.”

“What are you here for, then?” Ed asks lowly. A near hiss, defensive as he shifts the knife to plain sight over Ling’s chest. “Give me one good reason to believe you, mortal, because believe me—your lot have tried those words before too.”

Ling swallows at the edge of the knife so close to his unarmored chest. He looks between the active threat and the even more dangerous one, perhaps, glaring down at him.

“We only wanted one thing since the beginning,” he says after a pause. “We want to get home.”

“Home. And where’s that? A long way from here, I’m sure.”

Ed says it sarcastically—mocking the flimsy excuse to him, certainly.

He’s surprised, then, when Ling’s expression twists with a real agony, as he rasps, “Yes.”

Ed furrows his brow, and Ling continues thickly, “We’ve been seeking home for ten years now. We only just escaped another danger keeping us from there, and it was—” A hard, swallowing pause. “It was much larger than we could’ve handled. The ship we docked at your shore is all that’s left of us.”

“What was it?”

Ed gazes down at him impassively. Compelling honesty from Ling, and nothing else.

Ling can’t even lie if he wants to. “Dante,” he whispers.

He’s surprised when Ed jolts at the name, reeling back.

“What?” Ed spits. “That fucking bitch? How’d you go and piss her off? Do you realize how hard it is, with how little a shit she gives about you damn mortals?"

The words sail sharply into Ling’s exposed pain, and he flinches.

Yes, he’s well aware.

“I didn’t know,” Ling rasps. “I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing. But it wasn’t, and—it cost my men instead of me.” His throat bobs with a startling emotion to Ed. “That’s why I beg you, Edward. Release what little I have left of my men. We won’t overstay our welcome. I swear it.”

It’s a long, awful pause before Ed’s sharp gaze leaves Ling’s face.

Ling’s heart stops with the abrupt sigh Ed lets out.

“Well, shit.”

Ling scrambles to sit fully upright when Ed gets off him. He fears Ed will spell him while he’s defenseless, but Ed only swirls a finger to tie up his hair into a regal high ponytail, golden waves and decorated braids swaying as he says, “I won’t kill you, Ling Yao. But I’ll have to ask for the rest of your story.”

Hope flutters golden in Ling’s chest, and he fixes himself to do exactly that.

Ling begins his story from their first steps away from Amestris, and, as he speaks, Ed moves about his spellworks room. When he reaches the devastation Dante set upon his men, Ed looks up in reflexive horror at the loss. He hides it swiftly, but the spark of sympathy keeps Ling’s voice steady as he finishes up to the present.

“Well, that definitely checks out for the old bitch,” Ed says when Ling’s done. “Good riddance with her abomination of a son, though. I’m surprised you got the drop on him at all.”

Ling looks up, surprised at Ed’s—friendliness? What’s this supposed to be?

“You couldn’t have killed Gluttony if you’d tried,” Ed then tells him, shuttering Ling’s lungs from breath. “He’s not just a god by your standards, but a fake one. Created by the bitch herself. Though, I honestly can’t tell you why.”

Ling doesn’t know what to say to any of that, so he gulps.

“You won’t last another day in the ocean if she’s so hot on your tails,” Ed continues, rattling a half-full potion bottle in his hand. Whatever the motion tells him must be good, as he nods to himself before dipping it into the cauldron to fill the rest of the way. Ling watches the process with some interest, straightening up when golden eyes fall on him again afterward. “Not without some help, at least."

Ling understands immediately.

“You’re helping us?” he stutters.

“Don’t take it so personally yet,” Ed says with a tug of his lips. “Consider this a trial run. You’re an oddity, Ling Yao. And I don’t like ignorance. I need to figure you out somehow. And this”—he clinks the bottle in his hand on Ling’s dangling earring—”is my first experiment.”

His lips catch a full, coy smile when he notes Ling’s idle rubbing of the disturbed earring—otherwise unaffected by Ed’s closeness and state of dress.

“Whether you’re worth a second experiment... That’s completely up to you.”

“Just for curiosity’s sake...” Ling starts, eyeing the silvery potion and the ominous glow of the cauldron. “What, exactly, does this experiment entail?”

Ed grins at the blatant anxiety. Still smart, this mortal. Good.

“You’ve heard of the Underworld, haven’t you?” Ed hums, flicking a hand to shift the “smoke” into a silvery vision. He doesn’t risk turning around when Ling’s eyes widen at the image of Al. “I’ve got... a friend, there. A prophet. He can read your future so you can do your thing and dodge it. Or so you can accidentally fulfill it.” He spins around as he snaps his fingers, and the illusions snuffs out just in time. He lets out a soundless sigh. “Whichever you’re capable of.”

“And—what do you get out of this, if I agree?” Ling can’t help asking despite his hope.

Ed smirks back at him over a shoulder. He doesn’t answer as he makes a “come hither” motion for Ling to follow him outside, and Ling does so blindly, distracted by Ed’s robe also floating over to wrap back around him at the same time.

“Nothing, technically,” Ed says as they walk, ignoring Ling’s falling behind as he begins looking around the palace properly. The overgrown vines and wildflowers from the cracks are unlike any plants Ling’s ever seen before, sans the few hanging in the cauldron room just now. They don’t resemble the moly Greed gave him, though...

Ling starts, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust… that...”

He putters off when his gaze lands naturally on Ed. Without the shadows of Ed’s hair obscuring his face, the sunlight brushing that skin put a spontaneous pin in Ling’s foolish heart.

He noticed it much earlier, naturally, but...

Edward is beautiful.

And he’s smiling now.

Not directly at Ling, but at an unseen distance. An unseen memory, perhaps. Or a train of thoughts Ling really oughta pry after for his own safety.

And yet, no such instinct strikes when Ed says, “I’m figuring it out too, I guess.”

“Me?” Ling realizes faintly.

Ed’s eyes sparkle even without the sun when they turn to Ling. “I told you not to take it personally yet.”

Ling straightens. “Am I wrong, then?”

Ed shakes his head, staring ahead with a low chuckle. He doesn’t answer that either, but Ling has a feeling the answer wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

Edward’s giving him a chance. A chance to patron to their journey home, should Ling please him. After the loss of Athena’s favor, this is a golden opportunity. In several senses of the word.

For now, the best response is this: to kiss the back of its hand before he leaves—and pray to the gods he doesn’t waste another blessing.

(“Ooooh, looking a little red there, goldilocks. Guess this one’s okay, after all?”

“WHA—GREED! There you are!”

“Aw, did you miss—ohhh, shit. Put down the rat spell, kid—”

“SHOULD’VE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU GAVE HIM THAT DAMN MOLY! GET BACK HERE!”)

#circe au go brrrrrr haha #GOD I have a problem #fullmetal alchemist #fma #epic the musical #epic the circe saga #edward elric #ling yao #edling #from the moly #fanart #my art #fanfiction #my fic #collab

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seokgyuu · 1 year ago

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idk what the other heathens (affectionate) have asked for but i just think it’s neat how serious and cute seokmin gets when he’s kissing you. like he holds your face as he’s kissing you deep and slowly and he’ll mumble in between each one about how he loves you and he’d constantly have eye contact and look between your lips and eyes and i just… really wanna make out with him

- nova (it’s not really a request BUT FOOD FOR THOUGHT hehe)

a/n: well hello there nova <3 this turned out a bit different than what you asked for, but i hope its still fine!! literally just went with the flow of making out with seokmin.. hehe. kinda liked the idea of him being a loser that just happens to be an absolute ace when it comes to making out *giggles*. let me know what you think!

TITLE: sweet, sweeter, seokmin's kisses

PAIRING: Seokmin(DK) x Fem!Reader

GENRE: frat au (just mentioned that they are in a frat lmao)

WARNINGS: mentions of drinking alcohol, loads of kissing, it is suggestive but no smut, still MDNI!

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

TAGS: @honeykyeom, @onlyseokmins, @playmetheclassics, @the-boy-meets-evil, @dkakapizzaboy my fellow dk ferals <3

Playing Truth or Dare was so Middle School. Not that that stopped anyone from playing it at Jihoon’s birthday party.

You were seated cross legged next to Chan, a beer in your hand that surely had reached room temperature by now. Wonwoo was the one doing a dare for fifteen minutes, still counting. He had been dared to call his first girlfriend and tell her he wanted her back (which was absolutely infuriating and manipulative and horrible, but you were surrounded by a bunch of frat dudes who didn’t know boundaries) and she still hadn’t picked up. Why he kept on trying, you didn’t know. Perhaps he really wanted her back.

“Just leave a message, what the fuck,” you finally breathed out, face in a frown and the circle of dudes all turned to look at you. God damnit, why did their frat have to be the most unpopular on campus and why were you the only one feeling enough pity for them to actually come to their lame ass parties?

“But then we won’t get to see her reaction!” Soonyoung protested, but you groaned and shook your head at him.

“Okay, and? I’m pretty positive she’ll call him back once she sees the thirty missed calls, Soon.”

To that, none of them had a response. Soonyoung exchanged looks with Wonwoo and Seokmin, and finally decided to give in. Sighing in relief, you relaxed against the couch behind you, watching Wonwoo spin the bottle this time. It spun for a good thirteen seconds before it stopped - pointing at Seokmin. He, as confident as always, with a huge grin on his face said: “Dare!”

Maybe you should have seen it coming. The round had been going on for way too long for no one to be dared to kiss you - the only girl at this joke of a party. The thing was, Seokmin wasn’t ugly. More so the opposite. He could have been a campus heartthrob if only he hadn’t decided to join this fraternity. SVT was a sad example of how frats can become unpopular when they get led by the wrong people. And while Seungcheol, the leader since this semester, tried his very best to get their reputation up - it hadn’t worked just yet. So, yeah, Seokmin was handsome and buff and hot and all that. But he was Seokmin. He was silly and goofy and laughed a little too loud and always tried to cheer everyone up even when no one wanted him to. Thinking about it now, it did sound kind of nice of him. Still. Did you want to kiss him? Not really.

“I dare you to kiss Y/N! But not just a peck, like full on kiss kiss her!” Wonwoo grinned and your mouth dropped open.

“What the fuck is kiss kiss supposed to mean?!” You asked, and Wonwoo shrugged

“You’ll figure it out!”

Taking a deep breath, trying your hardest not to once again yell at the man with the round glasses on top of his nose, you finally looked at Seokmin, who’s eyes seemed to be just as wide as humanly possible.

“D-Do you mind?” He stuttered out and because you weren’t a buzz kill, you shook your head and put your cup down, uncrossing your leg and instead crouching over to him.

“Just kiss me and shut up,” you mumbled and Seokmin visibly swallowed, his eyes gazing from your eyes to your lips and then, finally, he leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours.

At first, you were confused. Because why the hell did his lips feel so soft? Never in your two years of knowing this man had you seen him use chapstick. Seokmin kissed the way he smiled. Warm. And sweet. And somehow better than anyone you had ever kissed. Almost automatically, your eyes fell shut and your hands landed on his cheeks as you slowly sat up, taking him with you. He kissed you deeper then, his hands on the small of your back and when he parted your lips with his own and let his tongue slide into your heat, you almost felt like moaning. It wasn’t necessarily because you were turned on but because he was just so good at this.

“Okay, okay! Damn, get a room!” Chan had thrown his empty solo cup at your head and you had, with a strange sense of sadness in your heart, separated from Seokmin. Or at least your lips separated because your hands were still on his cheeks and his were still on your back. For a few seconds you just stared at each other, blinking away and then you were back on your place on the floor, head buzzing and heart thumping.

What had just happened? Seokmin’s taste still lingered on your lips, on your tongue. It left you breathless, left your stomach doing flips over and over again and your brain yelling at you to kiss him again because, fuck, how long had it been since you’ve kissed someone and liked it? While the game continued, Seokmin now asking Chan a question after the youngest hast picker Truth over Dare. You allowed your eyes to flicker to Seokmin, seeing the red on his cheek and the way his lips were wet and-

“Seokmin, I think you wanted to show me something in your room earlier.”

The words left your mouth before your brain caught up. Chan, who had been in the middle of answering the question you hadn’t even heard, and everyone else in the circle, stared at you. God, you hoped Seokmin got the hint. If he didn’t, this could end up extremely awkward.

Seokmin was also looking at you, eyes back to being big and round and his mouth was hanging open slightly as he seemed to wreck his brain as to when he had said that. But when he saw the look in your eyes, saw the silent pleads, it clicked. His cheeks got even redder.

“O-Oh, yes! Yes, I did. Uhh, I think now is as good as ever to show you! S-sorry guys!”

It was safe to say none of the guys were mad once they caught on what was actually happening (it took them a good five minutes to count one and one together).

You were on top of Seokmin, straddling him, and your arms were locked around his neck while his rested on your back, his lips moving against yours so perfectly it felt like they were two puzzzle pieces designed to fit together. Kissing him was like tasting cotton candy for the first time, like going for a swim on an especially hot summer day. It felt right in all the ways a kiss could. You didn’t even care about the lack of him trying to touch you anywhere else than your back, just happy to feel his lips on yours and to have his tongue occasionally bump against yours. This wasn’t about initiating sex, no, this was something more and still less. Your fingers stroked the back of his head, felt the soft locks and when he giggled against your lips you almost melted.

“I’m ticklish”, he explained then, the red back on his cheeks and you just nodded, kissing him again, hands moving to his face.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled, pressing your lips together. He wrapped his arms around you fully now, hands on your shoulder, and you felt the safest you ever had in anyone’s arms. This was crazy. This was Seokmin. He wasn’t supposed to make you feel this way. You shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter that he was in a bitchless fraternity. From now on you could be his bitch.

Suddenly, you felt hin smile against your lips and you parted from him even though you didn’t actually want to.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, kissing his cheek. Seokmin chuckled.

“I kind of wanted to kiss you since freshman year.”

“For real?!” Your eyes widened. He nodded.

“Yeah. But when I entered SVT I kind of figured it probably wouldn’t happen.”

“Guess you figured wrong.” The smile on your lips was sincere and you let your hands rest on the sides of his face again. Seokmin smiled warmly, just like he always did.

“I guess so.”

And then he kissed you again, and whenever he stopped to giggle because you tickled him, you could feel yourself fall harder and harder into a Seokmin shaped hole you kind of felt like you couldn’t ever escape again.

#svthub #dk fanfiction #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #seokmin fanfiction #svt au #dk au #dk imagine #svt imagine #dokyeom x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #lee seokmin x reader #lee dokyeom x reader

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chrysopoeias · 2 years ago

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opinion posting about riza hawkeye/otp on something i see a lot around town but i disagree with.

Anyway. One thing I see more often than not is the idea that Hawkeye joined the military in order to chase after Mustang because she wanted to protect him. Or that she chased him while in love. But that is actually not true. I know ‘Because I have someone to protect’ is meemed into everyone’s head, but that was not her reason for joining the army. And it does not make sense either.

Like in a strategy guide to get Riza laid any% speedrun, what option is most logical?

1) Go completely no-contact with Mustang. Attend possibly multiple years of the military academy, likely in a different region from where he is. Get into a speciality that is wildly different from him. Git gud at that and then hope that maybe, if all the stars align her future boss will one day for some random reason put her in the proximity of this magic scientist she has not spoken to in years. And then ??? profit?

2) Literally just call Roy on his phone number, perhaps sent him a nice letter, or visit his address.

Sure, the first thing is what actually happened. But it's way too uncertain for that to have been planned. She did not need to be a soldier to be close to him. Roy was not a stranger to Riza, she had his current up to date contact info. He gave it to her on page/screen after her dad died.

When she first sees Mustang in Ishval Hawkeye looks angered and shocked to see him. The first thing she says to him is ‘Do you remember me?’. These two had no contact at all between 1905 and 1908. Mustang got flame alchemy and skedaddled out of her life (even though he was supposed to look after her lmao) and Hawkeye also had clearly no intention of seeking him out when she could have done so easily. She did not join the army to protect him. And also, she says why she joined:

She wanted to improve the lives of the people of Amestris. So am I saying it had nothing to do with Mustang? Well no. Her reasons for joining the military are the same as his.

She looked up to him. Here is this young man who has been to places beyond her sad little town and graduated from the military academy, he is a genius alchemist and must know what he’s talking about, right? That is on top of whatever their relationship was like before then, and whatever adoration she had for him already. She trusted him and thought his dreams were wonderful. Riza also wanted to believe in a peaceful future. Remember that they live in a totalitarian military dictatorship that has been in continued armed conflicts since the middle ages. There has never been a time of peace, ever, since the country was founded. And from the normie Amestrian point of view, they are just defending themselves from outside attacks. I believe that if Hawkeye and Mustang were sent to a border conflict instead of the civil war, they would have never questioned their government.

Anyway, Riza saw an opportunity to be useful with her own two hands, beyond being a walking notebook. Even if she could die in the process, it’d be worth to try. (And the military would also give her a salary after growing up in poverty and a place to live that is not the house she was abused in). She was a teenager with no family, no guidance, no idea what to make of herself. But this was something she could do. (She could have chosen many non-violent paths instead too, to be fair, but I digress).

And then it all went to shit obviously. You cannot become a sniper and never expect to kill. Selling your agency to the state means you can’t just play hero when you want to, you will be sent where ordered whether you like it or not, and forced to commit horrors or die a traitor. Believing the naive ideals of protecting her country was a mistake. Blindly admiring and trusting Mustang was a mistake. Smarter people than me can go expand on that.

But the ‘because there is someone I have to protect’ reason Hawkeye gives for being in the military is actually the reason why she stays. She could have gotten her diploma after Ishval and leave the military behind. But she chose not to.

She stays and will continue to kill because flame alchemy is her responsibility and she has created Mustang, all his kills are mentally hers. If she quits or kills herself while he does not, flame alchemy is still loose in the world outside her control. And just like Roy, she never fully gives up on her dream about protecting everyone. There must be a way to make all this worth it. There is still a way to change the country so future generations won’t have to go through what she did. She’s already doomed so she will take that responsibility so others won’t have to. She violently and fully clings to that.

If Mustang dies before doing anything positive for the world with their dreams and his abilities, all Hawkeye has done with her short life is cause destruction, murder and create a murderer, all the suffering would have been a waste. She cannot life with that guilt or continue the path alone, she will give up and kill herself. Especially in the scenario where she kills Roy herself, and with that her only hope.

There is no way out for them. But their murder-suicide pact was not planned for since they were young. They never intended to see each other again and spend their lives like this. You can blame dad for setting them up for failure.

#verwijder later #thanks for reading my rambles if you do #i have to write it out or it keeps bouncing in my head and distracting me all day at work

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years ago

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Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 7 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 8

Summary : Loki is taken away from you and you fear that he'll forget you just like everyone else.

Warning: mention of psychological torture, bit of angst

So this was happening. Like really happening. You were standing in the middle of your apartment with two gods giving deathly glares to each other, if looks could kill they would both be dead right now.

"So i–" before you could finish your sentence Thor interrupted you. That was Thor, the god of thunder, the Asgardian god everyone lusted after, the man you never thought would be standing in your room someday.

"Are you tired of playing these childish games now brother?" He asked Loki and Loki could only smile in response.

"Games? I haven't even done anything"

"He's right" you mumbled as quietly as you could.

"You fled with the tesseract" Thor raised his voice and you were hoping Mrs Geller had remembered to take her pills today. Otherwise the field day she'd have with this tomorrow will be insane.

"I barely picked it up because it fell right by my feet, I was teleported here, did you want me to surrender myself knowing too well that you'd take me back to Asgard so I am trapped in that forsaken cell for the rest of my life?" Loki glared at him, his voice laced with mixture of anger and sadness so you grabbed his hand and gave him a comforting squeeze. His eyes softened immediately at the touch.

"You commenced a war on earth Loki, what did you think would happen to you? I'm here to take you back to the tower. Let us go now"

He stormed towards Loki so you got in front of him, you were trying to protect a powerful god from an equally powerful god. How smart did you have to be to do that?

"Look he's your brother alright, if you'd just sit down and talk to him about what he did and why he HAD to do it, you'd understand him better –"

"Lady y/n i would advise you not to speak on this matter –" He interrupted you again. For a prince he sure lacked manners.

"She will speak her mind, you daft ill-mannered rhinoceros. Have you forgotten that it's rude to interrupt a lady while she's speaking? Oh!! pardon me you never had such manners to begin with"

"Okay I am–" you were going to say something but then you turned around and grabbed Loki's hands to take him to the kitchen, you could feel Thor's eyes on you both and it made you uncomfortable.

"What is going to happen Loki I'm scared" your eyes teared up, all of this was nerve wracking for you, not knowing what they planned to do to him was terrifying. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead, he could also feel Thor's eyes on him so that was making him act a little differently with you, he had never been one to indulge in such a display of affection before.

"They can not harm me darling, I am the youngest prince of Asgard, worst comes to worst I will be prisoned–"

"Lokiii" your eyes welled up more so he hugged you as tightly as he could, he knew he had to see this someday, he just didn't know it would come so soon. Before he fell asleep he thought about things he wanted to do with you tomorrow but he knew he won't be seeing your pretty face first thing in the morning any longer"Do you perhaps want to accompany me?" He asked you so you pulled away to look at him.

"Lo i.."

"I know it is not appropriate of me to be asking you for this but I just –"

"Stark said she can not come–" Thor chimed in to give his two cents.

"Are you his slave now? Are you willing to accept your truer purpose in life?" Loki answered him, even the way they conversed with each other gave you snappy siblings energy.

"I can't lo.. I have a job here and my family.. I have never been to NYC and ..it's just too much" you placed your hand on your face to control your sobs but it was futile, you really wanted to follow him but you felt afraid, you had never been someone to do something so impulsive in life. Maybe that's why you were left behind while everyone else moved forward and succeeded.

"I understand, just know that I will get back to you as soon as I can" he said to you. He wished you'd have agreed to come with him but he knew he was asking for too much too soon.

"You promise? Promise me that you'll be okay and that I'll see you again"

"I will be back to you i am giving you my word darling" you were going to kiss him but your eyes met with Thor again.

"Can you turn around creep?" You screamed at Thor, his eyes widened for a moment before he turned his back to you both, as soon as he did you got on your tip toes and kissed Loki as passionately as you could. Of Course this was happening to you now, you couldn't have kept him forever anyways, you just feared that he will forget all about you as soon as you're out of his sight, earth was filled with gorgeous women, of course he'd find someone else once he's not trapped in this bubble with you.

"Will you give me a call?" You asked him so he nodded. You sobbed as you felt your heart breaking.

"Why now? You said you knew about this, why didn't you come get him before? Why can't you just let him be? He had suffered enough" You stormed towards Thor so he took a step back.

"It is not my fault that my arrival in your city made national news, they assumed that I knew something, i couldn't lie anymore, maybe I should hone the art of lying. Loki can help"

Loki rolled his eyes at the comment. He was so used to such remarks that it didn't even affect him.

"You're not going to poke a hole in my ceiling right?" You asked Thor so he looked up.

"We shall get back to the roof then"

You grabbed Loki's hand as you all went upstairs, you couldn't stop staring at him, the thought of him not being there in your apartment made you feel horrible, it felt like a breakup, the nastiest breakup you have ever had. Knowing you won't get to cuddle him or kiss him, probably ever again, just made you not want to exist anymore. When did your feelings get this intense for him?

"Princess?"

"Mmmm" you mumbled because you knew you'd cry if you'd even try to talk to him right now .

"Promise me that you will not cry in my absence" Well he wanted you to cry it seems.

"Do you want me to lie?" You looked at him and his heart clenched. He didn't want you to cry because he knew he wouldn't be here to hold you and comfort you. As you all reached the roof Thor waved his hammer and you heard the thundering,

"Wait a moment–" Loki spoke, he wanted to look like an Asgardian before he leaves, one fluck of his fingers and he looked the same as he did the first day you had met him, his hair had gotten longer though.

"Am I ever going to see you again or I'll just be a forgotten memory–" you looked down because the words made you feel choked up.

"You will see me princess, you will see all of me I promise, what you have done for me can never be compared, what I feel for you is irreplaceable" he cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly. His eyes were teary too, all he wanted to do was take you back to that small apartment of yours and snuggle you but it was a luxury he could no longer afford. "Farewell for now, my beloved" he took your hand in his and pressed a small kiss before he stepped away from you.

"If you hurt him, I don't care if it's just a scratch, I swear to god I'll tell everyone about that thing" you said to Thor and he snickered in response.

"What thing?" Thor questioned

"The thing" Loki smirked

"You told her?" Thor glared at him

You smiled at Loki and he returned it. And then they were both gone. Your lo was gone, you couldn't see him and you felt empty without him, you felt hollow, your feet felt stuck on the ground beneath you, you didn't even want to go back to that apartment without him. Why didn't you go with him when he asked you to?

"Ohh goddd" you sat down on the floor because your knees felt too weak to keep you standiy. And then you cried for what seemed like hours, you missed him already, you missed him being close to you. When you entered your apartment it almost made you pass out, you could see him everywhere still, the number of times you wished for him to just appear out of nowhere was intense. The bed smelled like him and though it gave you a moment of relief when you laid down on it, the longer you stayed there the harder it got for you to breathe, your arms craved to hold him and knowing that you won't be able to do any of those things only made you cry yourself to sleep.

In the morning you woke up suddenly and turned the news on to see if there was anything about him. A part of you feared you would be sent to jail but you knew you hadn't done anything wrong. Right?

Everytime you looked around you just saw him, you saw him on that bed sleeping like a baby, you saw him reading his book on that sofa, you saw him watching the tv with that adorable look on his face everytime you came back home.

You waited for three days to see something about him on tv but you saw nothing, he had made no attempt to communicate with you and that kind of made you angry but then the worries kicked in. What had they done to him?

You hardly ate, your body felt sick all the time and you just hoped that they were not hurting him.

"Why won't he call..please call" you mumbled in frustration and then it hit you, he didn't have your number, he never needed it. "Ohh God" you were starting to freak out but then you remembered that they could easily get your information if they actually wanted to, they haven't even tried to contact you to ask anything about him and that bothered you, he lived with you for more than two months. Weren't they just a tad bit curious?

"Stop glaring at me reindeer games, this is for your own good"

Loki glared at Stark again for what felt like the umpteenth time in just a matter of an hour. It has been three days since he had been locked up here in this tower. He desperately wanted to communicate with you but they weren't allowing him, apparently there was a legal case against him by the state of New York and he wasn't allowed to do anything, they did give him a lawyer though.

He was grilled by the Avengers for hours when they got him there and they tried to pipe the information out of him so he just told them everything he knew, right from the the moment he fell off the bifrost, he told them how he was rescued by the men of the mad Titan Thanos and how they tortured him for a year before they sent him to do his bidding. The shock on their faces was worth sharing the embarrassing ordeal he had suffered through.

A press conference was to be held three days later where Nick Fury would introduce him as the newest Avenger, all of this felt like a joke to him but one of the conditions he had imposed was that he'd be able to communicate with you and they had promised him that after the press conference he would be free to make one phone call, he felt like a prisoner still but he was happy that they weren't taking him back to Asgard. He didn't want to be anywhere he couldn't get in touch with you.

He just hoped you weren't feeling hurt or betrayed by him, he didn't want to abandon you or make you feel how other people had done before. He missed you every second of his life, at night he couldn't sleep because the nightmares kept him up, he would always wake up with teary eyes and it was only the thought of your comforting embrace that would lull him back to sleep. He missed your warm body next to his cold one. He yearned for you with all his heart and he hoped you were missing him as much as he did.

"Thanks a ton for telling me about that Minnesota gal, my publicist is very impressed by the story" Tony said to Thor and that perplexed him, why was this publicist person impressed?

"Why?"

"A tortured escaped fugitive running from the world ends up in a random girl's apartment and she agrees to hide him? That's a movie, a blockbuster movie" Tony explained.

"And what it is that you're planning to do with the story, are you going to call her here?" Thor was a bit taken by your intimidating personality but he knew Loki adored you and that was enough of a reason for him to care about you, even if just a little.

"You'll see at the press conference" Tony winked at him before walking away.

You were in the gym when you saw the news. They were talking about Loki and Thanos and everything he had told you, also the things he hadn't told you yet. He was tortured for a year, that's why he had those nightmares, your heart clenched for him and all you wanted to do was comfort him and give him plenty of forehead kisses but he wasn't there with you anymore.

"Oh my god is that for real? I think they're making it up to make us feel bad about him" Lyla commented so you rolled your eyes.

"He's superrr hot though" Stacy spoke

Well, that you agreed with.

Apparently there will be a public press conference that will be broadcasted live tomorrow. You felt a surge of relief because at least they weren't trying to hurt him but then you felt angry, why hadn't he called you then? Did he not miss you?

You went home and cried again, of course you got so attached so quickly to a man who wasn't attainable. It wasn't the first time you had done that but at least you weren't in love with those guys.

"He's going to fall in love with someone else" you mumbled as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Of Course, that's exactly was going to happen, the first guy you liked was happily married now, the next one found his girlfriend while he was with you, the last ex of yours also found a girlfriend right after he broke up with you even though he claimed that he couldn't get lucky with girls and you were the ultimate dream come true for him and there would never be another you. You were like a blessing for these guys because you entered their lives and bam they were meeting the love of their lives left, right and center.

Maybe you were the problem here. Maybe you didn't deserve to keep men in your life. If those midgardian men were able to find someone so quickly then you didn't expect a god like him to wait around for you. He was probably getting himself sandwiched between the models that Tony Stark hung around with, that Ironman was a problematic guy, you didn't have to dig too deep to figure that out.

Thankfully you didn't have to work the next day so you made a cup of tea and sat down on the sofa to watch the press conference. You just wanted to see him even though you knew it would only hurt you further. You just wanted to see if he was ok.

"Brother, do not say anything you're not supposed to say" Thor told him so Loki rolled his eyes. He saw Anthony walking towards him with a tall blonde female by his side and it confused him.

"Loki ..meet Melisaa, you can call her Mel for short, is that correct?" Tony looked at Melissa and she smiled as she kissed his cheek then she turned her attention towards Loki.

"Well I think we need to have one conversation at least before the conference" She grabbed his hand and he was so confused, so was Thor, she took him away with her and Thor glared at Tony

"What is this? Is this some sort of bribe?" He questioned Tony.

"No it's for his public image, you see people don't trust him. Obviously. They need to trust him and whats the better way to reel them in than a human girl dating him"

"Dating? Are you out of your mind? He fancies lady y/n..from Minesotta"

"Yeah, my publicist looked her up. You see, she ain't it" Tony gave him a look of disgust as if you were beneath these people, he didn't think of you like that, he just found you annoying "He needs someone attractive, someone more presentable. Trust me a taste of Melissa and he won't even remember this lady of yours" Before Thor can speak further into this matter Tony walked away from him.

Loki didn't know why Melisaa was talking to him about you, she kept asking him questions about the things that happened the day he had invaded your apartment, however he was more than happy to talk about you with someone, he missed you alot, especially in this moment, he had to face all these people and all these strangers scared him a little. All he wanted to do was hold your hand, if you were here he'd just press his head on your chest and just have you comfort him the way you used to do.

He remembered that day he met you for the first time, you both were complete strangers but he had never felt so taken by a stranger before. You made him feel at home, something he didn't have anymore.

"Loki let's go" His lawyer told him so he nodded and Melissa hooked her arms with him to take him with her, the gesture confused him even more. Why was she there with him?

The conference went okay, he was able to apologize and speak his truth, he knew people of midgard won't forgive him so easily, there were also things he needed to discuss with these Avengers. Two Tony Starks and two Captains, why nobody was concerned about that? Why weren't they concerned about Thanos?"

You watched him on the tv and it made you cry furiously on that ugly sofa, he was so pretty and so soft in that dark blue suit he had worn, you couldn't even believe that you were blessed enough to have that godly man in your arms every night like that. You noticed the modelesque looking woman beside him and it made you worry. Did he find someone already or was it just for appearance purposes?

"Loki, hi this is Patricia from times now, you had disappeared for two months with something as valuable as the tesseract, where were you hiding all this time?" He was going to answer but a woman who introduced herself as Dalia came forward instead, whatever you heard next only made you want to rip your hair out. You flipped the channel but it was everywhere, the news had spread like a wildfire. You stopped pressing the button of the remote on some Entertainment channel and the more you heard about the situation, the angrier it made you feel.

"They say love can find you in the strangest of places and the new Avenger aka Loki the Asgardian god can probably relate. From last two months we were wondering where the certain god had disappeared to, shockingly enough, the tesseract, the powerful bundle of energy teleported him to an apartment in New York City which belonged to a local model named Malissa McKay, we got in touch with Malissa herself to get her reaction and it's adorable how their relationship developed in the time period"

You saw the model Malissa and she revealed how she threw a knife at him as she was in the kitchen looking for her salad when he came out of nowhere and how he told her that she didn't need that stuff because she was perfect the way she was. Your eyes teared up more and more as she continued to talk about him.

How dare he do that to you? How dare he agreed to replace you as if you meant nothing to him?

How dare he broke your heart like that when he knew what he meant to you?

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Ooppps

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#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader angst #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #post avengers loki #canon divergent au

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skyloftian-nutcase · 11 days ago

Text

Blood of the Hero Ch 16 (Link’s Parents Play BotW)

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

(AO3 link)

Previous // Next

Tilieth listened to the wind chimes in the distance as she washed Link’s hair. The world around her was warm and bright, and her pack was full of freshly harvested mushrooms and herbs. The bathing area for the Sheikah was a pond just up the hill from the village. There were two ponds, actually, though one had a strange massive flower bud that glowed, and the area was considered sacred. Tilieth didn’t want to upset anyone, though she did bottle some of the water, so she took Link to the watering hole everyone else used. It granted a beautiful view of the village, and it gave her some peace.

After Tilieth and Impa had chased Abel, and their subsequent return to the village, Tilieth had called for help, and Kollin had arrived quickly. Abel was given a potion to alleviate the alarmingly fast rate he was bleeding through his shoulder injury, and while the wound was now gone, her husband was utterly spent from blood loss, stress, and a lack of sleep. She’d stayed by his side until he’d passed out, and then she’d resolved to take care of Link before returning to her vigil. She’d needed to clear her mind.

Where should she even start? She was still reeling, heart having only just slowed down as she’d watched Abel steadily fall asleep, his hand clutched desperately in hers. The moment of clarity she’d had as they’d teleported to the village allowed her to stay calm for her poor husband, but now she was alone with Link, and her head wouldn’t stay quiet.

Abel had hurt her? He had gotten so desperately out of control that he’d hurt her? It was clearly a complete accident, one he regretted so much he was terrified to even get near her, but it was frightening in itself.

How far gone was her husband, that he could lose such control of his mind? Had he always been this bad and she’d simply failed to notice? Tilieth tried to think of other instances where perhaps Abel simply wasn’t acting right, but aside from his short temper or paranoia…

Perhaps that was it, then. It wasn’t that he’d always been this way, it was just the logical conclusion to worsening of his already bad habits.

But how could she possibly help him with this? What had tipped him over the edge? Was it the lack of sleep? She knew he hadn’t slept at least one night. She had to be more on top of it – her husband had always been the strong one, but it was clear now that in some ways the poor man was downright brittle.

And that was frightening too. Because Abel had always been her steady rock, and now he was crumbling.

This wasn’t the first time the man had faltered, of course. He’d snapped at her before, he’d shown signs of being worn down. But this was… far more extreme than she imagined him capable of.

Sleep, she resolved to herself. He needs to sleep well. I have to make sure he sleeps well.

Sighing, Tilieth glanced down at her son, who was boneless under her care. The past day or two he’d wake up easily to stimulation, and the cool water had startled his eyes open, but the gentle touch of his mother had soothed him back to sleep. She didn’t mind. He’d already eaten. He could rest. Hylia knew he needed it.

Carefully, Tilieth pulled Link out of the shallow edge of the pond, laying him on a blanket she’d brought and wrapping him in it. Link shivered, brow furrowing in discomfort, and she kissed his forehead.

I can be the strong one for a little while, she surmised, smiling down at her baby boy. They were just going to stay in Kakariko. She could run a calm, domestic scene just fine. She wasn’t alone here. She had plenty of ideas already for what she could do while her boys slept.

“Tilieth?”

She jumped, startled, but the voice was familiar. Glancing down the hill a little bit, she caught sight of the Sheikah chief, Impa. “Oh! You made it back safely! I was worried.”

Lady Impa smiled. “I was worried too. I checked in with Kollin – it seems Sir Abel is resting now?”

Tilieth nodded. “He…”

She didn’t know what to say, honestly, so she just gave a weak shrug with a small smile.

“He loves you,” Lady Impa said, reading her body language. Her words were spoken with sincerity and conviction. “He loves both of you so much. And he’s strong. He’ll be okay. He just… I’ve seen it. With others. The Calamity left scars on us all. I’m just… afraid that perhaps his wounds have not had the chance to heal to that point.”

No. They truly haven’t. “I hope you don’t mind us staying in Kakariko for a little longer. I appreciate your hospitality. You’ve been so kind to us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” the Sheikah chief replied warmly. “I’m going to return to the village, but I wanted to find you to make sure you were alright. Your husband’s horse is in the stable with Epona.”

“Thank you,” Tilieth gratefully said. “Truly. For everything.”

Lady Impa was too humble to acknowledge the gratitude once again, so she bowed her head and departed. Tilieth looked down at her son, drying him off a little and dressing him in the tunic she’d made for him, as well as a fresh set of trousers she’d been gifted by one of the Sheikah. Then she braced herself and clipped the harness to her back, slowly carrying the boy back into the village.

Liyah, the innkeeper, was waiting for her return, and she smiled warmly. “Welcome back, dear. Your husband’s been sleeping quite peacefully. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Tilieth acknowledged as she grunted, contradicting her words. Golden Three, why did her baby have to be so heavy? She couldn’t imagine hauling him around at his healthy weight – he was far skinnier now than he should be.

“He looks much more comfortable,” Liyah noted cheerily, leaning over Link as Tilieth tucked him back into the bed. “A good bath will do that. Perhaps you can help your husband clean up when he’s awake.”

Tilieth hummed, brushing hair out of Link’s face before glancing at her husband in the bed beside them. Abel’s face was worn and pale, but at least he looked at peace. He still had dried blood caked on his neck, though – his doublet had been removed to examine the wound, and the dirt, grime, and clots from the last day or so were evident where the clean bandages didn’t cover. A bath was a good idea. She was a little worried to take Abel any distance from the village, though.

“Oh, I remember long ago, before the Calamity, how there used to be this wonderful bath house,” Liyah continued, eyes lost to the past as her voice became dreamy. “My husband used to be a royal scientist, you know, and we’d travel often. Well, he would. I tried to go with him as much as I could. But ah, Tilieth, the bath house that my people built near Akkala! There were so many Sheikah spread across central locations of Hyrule, you see, so we made little settlements sometimes. Everyone loved that place – it became a vacationing spot, even! Utilizing the hot springs from the Goron lands was a genius idea.”

“It sounds nice,” Tilieth commented, imagining how wonderful a warm bath sounded. And to achieve one with no extra effort in making a fire to heat the water! She wondered if her family would have a chance to see Death Mountain at all on this journey.

The thought of it was certainly exciting, but also a little daunting. But now wasn’t the time to spiral over that. Tilieth knew that what everyone needed right now was rest, so she tried to only focus on the moment.

“Perhaps you should get some sleep too, my dear,” the innkeeper suggested.

Tilieth considered it, but to be honest, she was far too wired. If she laid down, she would only worry, not sleep, so she shook her head. “I don’t think sleep is attainable for me at the moment.”

“Well, then get yourself some fresh air,” Liyah insisted. “I can watch these two. If they awaken, I will retrieve you.”

Leave both of them? Tilieth watched the elderly innkeeper uncertainly. But, the more she pondered it, the better the idea sounded. Abel’s clothes were threadbare at best, worn thin from years of use with little to no repair. She had an opportunity to make something for him just as she had for Link. Perhaps she could even make something for herself instead of using an old repurposed dress as a tunic.

Yes… she supposed stepping out would be good. In fact, she was maybe even a little excited about it. Her heart still sped with anxiety as she looked at her husband, though.

“He’s resting,” Liyah said gently, following her gaze. “It will do neither of you any good to hover over him for now. Take care of yourself so that you can look after him, my dear. Now is the best time to do so.”

Tilieth sighed a little, feeling weight lifted from her shoulders as she smiled softly at the innkeeper. “Thank you. I… I needed to hear that.”

With a caring smile mirrored back at her, Tilieth happily went outdoors, feeling freer than she had in a while, ready to explore the village and set to work helping her boys. She could talk to Hakeez, the woman attempting to rebuild her clothing shop, in order to get materials; she’d helped Tilieth make Link’s tunic, after all. There had to be something Tilieth could offer in return. Perhaps she could make some garments for Hakeez as well?

She found the older Sheikah woman with the young mother who had just given birth recently. The new mother looked exhausted, nearly in tears as Hakeez tried to assure her with an offered baby blanket she clearly had made for her.

“Come on now, Pala, it’ll get better,” Hakeez tried to assure the young woman.

“Mellie just won’t stop crying,” the mother, Pala, lamented.

Tilieth recognized the desperation born from exhaustion, and she quickly stepped up. “Let me help. I can look after Mellie alongside Hakeez so you can get some sleep.”

Pala glanced at her, vaguely recognizing Tilieth from the celebrations the village had held for Mellie’s birth the other day. Hakeez quickly nodded, latching on to the idea. “Yes, we can help! Get some rest, dear, you need it.”

The tired mother didn’t put up much of a fight when a more familiar face made the argument, and Mellie was in Tilieth’s arms in no time, wrapped in the blanket Hakeez had made for her.

“Poor dear,” Hakeez lamented as the two exited the home, Mellie gazing up at Tilieth curiously. Tilieth smiled back at the newborn, admiring her beautiful red eyes, large and innocent as they were, light skin unblemished by the sun and not carrying a care in the world.

It was amazing, really, looking at such new life in such a broken world. In the chaos of Tilieth’s life, just holding the baby and standing there, rocking gently, gazing down at her, brought the tired woman some peace of her own.

Memories of her own children flooded her mind and heart, when she’d held Link for the first time, when her first few months with him were harrowing and exhausting, when Lyra made even more of a fuss than her brother at the same age.

She remembered Abel being there to help, having requested time home from the military, supporting her every step of the way.

Tilieth bit her lip, holding the baby close, closing her eyes and just soaking up the moment, remembering the love she had for her family and how much they loved her in return.

“Are you alright?” Hakeez asked quietly.

Tilieth exhaled slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat and smiling a little and nodding. The craftswoman continued to talk, then, being rather chatty and not wishing to stand in silence for so long. She cooed at the little newborn in Tilieth’s arms a moment before telling her about how she had made more clothes for the village. She did lament, though, that it was difficult trying to reestablish bartering and trade; money was rather meaningless within the village, and sometimes people’s offers of trade for her clothes were not what she’d hope for.

“What exactly do you need?” Tilieth asked, latching on to the topic as Mellie slept in her arms.

“Honestly, what I need is some of that stamina elixir that Kollin seems to know how to make,” Hakeez snorted. “I swear he hoards it for himself and his fiancée.”

Tilieth glanced at the seamstress, gleaning who it could be, confirming, “Lady Impa is engaged to Kollin?”

Hakeez nodded dismissively, sighing. “The point is that I’m always worn out and could use some of that stamina elixir.”

Well, if Tilieth wanted Hakeez’s help with supplies to make new clothes for Abel, she supposed she’d start there. Glancing down at Mellie to confirm she was still asleep, Tilieth headed towards Lady Impa’s abode, though she opted to stop by the inn first to check on her family once more.

The innkeeper, Liyah, looked a little surprised at the bundle in Tilieth’s arms, and then she chuckled. “Did poor Pala need a break?”

Tilieth smiled and nodded. “I didn’t mind. She looked pretty haggard.”

“The first one is always the hardest,” Liyah commented.

Tilieth bit her lip, thinking of her two children, and she looked at Link. Yes, it was certainly an adjustment when he’d been a baby, though Lyra had certainly been fussier.

Goddess, she missed those days.

Link was sleeping peacefully as usual, and, for once, Abel was still managing to rest as well. Mellie stirred, grunting a little, and Tilieth made a hasty retreat before the newborn could wake either of them. The little one’s wails caught the attention of one of the guards stationed in front of Lady Impa’s estate, and Tilieth recognized him as the child’s father. After quickly reassuring the worried man, Tilieth suggested that the little one probably needed a diaper change.

The guard blinked, looking anxious. Tilieth had to laugh at him, wondering if he’d even cleaned the baby up yet or if it had all been Pala. It was no wonder the poor woman was overwhelmed; at least Abel had helped. Though Tilieth supposed Abel had been staying home full time while this man was still working, but…

“Why don’t I show you how to do it?” She offered, tilting her head to the side.

“I—well, I don’t know, Pala—”

“Is exhausted,” Tilieth cut in. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to help her sometimes, you know. Mellie needs both her parents’ love and care.”

The guard deflated, relenting. Tilieth forgot all her worries as she spent the next ten minutes trying not to laugh at the man dry heaving while cleaning his little girl’s mess.

Men were so silly sometimes. They could handle blood and gore of the battlefield, but a soiled diaper was too much for some of them. Abel had muscled his way through it with Link, but Tilieth could tell the first few times he’d been similarly uneasy.

Mellie seemed much happier in her father’s arms afterward, and his partner at their post said he would watch for a while so the man could be with his baby girl. Tilieth took the opportunity to head inside the chief’s estate, feeling a little satisfied that she’d helped the guard and his wife.

She hadn’t expected to see Sheik inside.

“—should tell them already, this is—”

“What difference does it make?” Sheik hissed, body language tight and defensive as she crossed her arms so tightly she might as well have been hugging herself. “I have my path and he—”

Sheik cut herself off as she caught sight of Tilieth. Her face was still hidden, but Tilieth could imagine her cheeks were flushed with how worked up she seemed to be.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Tilieth said carefully, feeling guilty. She’d gotten so used to just wandering the village, she really should have knocked.

“Yet you did,” Sheik snapped, eyes narrowing.

“That’s enough,” Lady Impa said sharply. “We’ll continue this discussion later.”

The Sheikah warrior sighed, the fight draining out of here, and she walked by Tilieth without another word, exiting the building.

“Is everything all right?” Tilieth asked quietly. She supposed it really wasn’t her business, but if she could help at all, she wanted to offer. Lady Impa had done so much for her and her family, after all.

The chief seemed to debate something, watching Tilieth for a long moment, before she looked away. “Some matters simply must resolve themselves. How can I help you, Tilieth? Is Sir Abel alright?”

“Yes, he’s fine right now,” Tilieth hastily answered, embarrassed she’d seemingly pushed herself into Sheikah affairs. “I just… I was looking for Kollin. Not—not for Link or Abel, but I wanted to see if I could get a stamina elixir for Hakeez.”

Lady Impa raised an eyebrow. “What does Hakeez want with a stamina elixir?”

“I’m assuming she wants to not be tired,” Tilieth chuckled a little, lightening up. “I just want to make a tunic for Abel, but I need something to trade to get materials.”

Before she could stop herself, she added, “Speaking of Kollin, though, I didn’t realize you two were engaged! You two seem like you have a good chemistry with each other. When are you getting married?”

Lady Impa blinked a moment, eyebrows rising, before she giggled, growing somewhat bashful. “Oh. Well, thank you. I… we haven’t decided yet. We only got engaged pretty recently.”

Tilieth wished she could be there for it, but she knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Instead, she said, “Well, I wish you two all the best and happiness in the world. You deserve it.”

“You’re too kind,” Lady Impa quickly dismissed politely. “But if you’re searching for Kollin, he’s likely up by the fairy spring. It’s just beyond the shrine.”

Ah, yes, the spring that the villagers kept talking about. Perhaps the water did indeed having healing properties. She hadn’t given any to Link yet, so she hadn’t been sure.

Wait… fairy spring?

“He might be trying to talk to… well… a Great Fairy lives there,” Lady Impa explained. “But her power is dependent on rupees, and we hardly have any. She can still sometimes emerge, and Kollin tries to pay his respects.”

“Can she heal Link?” Tilieth immediately asked. “I’ll give her all the rupees we’ve found!”

Lady Impa watched her sadly. “I don’t think so. She can summon fairies, but I don’t think Cotera can actually heal anyone. But I suppose it’s worth asking, now that his wounds are not as dire as they used to be.”

Tilieth hastened outside, not waiting a moment longer for explanation, though she at least threw a hasty thanks over her shoulder.

It didn’t take long to reach the spring she’d passed a couple times by now, and she wondered why she hadn’t been told of this sooner. All the Sheikah seemed a little cagey on the matter, as if they wanted to protect Cotera, but it wasn’t as if Tilieth could possibly hurt a Great Fairy.

She supposed perhaps they worried Abel might try, to help Link. Honestly, at this rate, she wouldn’t put it passed him.

But there shouldn’t be a need for such force or concern! Great Fairies were powerful magical creatures, surely she could help Link somehow!

Kollin stood before the strange looking bud Tilieth had seen before, and she slid to a halt, catching his attention.

“Is that the Great Fairy?” She asked, curious and confused. “Is she in there?”

Kollin looked a bit startled, and he hesitated to respond. Tilieth was about to plead when he finally admitted, “Yes, but she hardly comes out anymore. We don’t have much to offer.”

“I have rupees!” Tilieth hastily said, pulling out all three hundred that she’d collected. “Take them!”

The bud made a strange noise, dark and even ominous sounding, and Tilieth immediately retracted her arms, nervous.

“Don’t be afraid, dear girl,” the voice spoke, sounding distorted. “Please, help me restore my power.”

Kollin smiled reassuringly. “I promise it’s safe. Please, let me see the rupees. I think she usually asks for one hundred.”

“Yes, yes, a mere one hundred rupees is all I require!” The supposed Great Fairy agreed.

Tilieth wasn’t entirely sure she trusted the voice, but she did trust Kollin, so she carefully handed the money over to him. A large hand reached out of the bud, snatching it and nearly knocking Kollin over, and Tilieth gasped, growing more scared by the moment. The voice made a sound of delight before the bud opened with a squeal, releasing puffs of pink smoke and blinding Tilieth. When she blinked her eyes open, she was dazzled by the sight of an enormous woman half submerged in water, adorned in shells and jewels, fairy wings peeking out from behind her ears.

Tilieth stared, amazed, mouth open.

“Oh, what a feeling!” The Great Fairy exclaimed, stretching and smiling. “That first breath of fresh air after such a long time of decay… it’s just so intoxicating!”

The fairy turned her eyes to Tilieth, leaning over a little and smiling serenely. “Thanks to you, I’ve been returned to my former glory. And as they say—one good turn deserves another. I can help you—”

“My son!” Tilieth immediately interjected, desperation pushing through her fear. “My son is grievously wounded, please, can you heal him?”

The Great Fairy gasped a little. “Oh, my. My dear girl, I wish that I could – perhaps my children can assist you?”

Tilieth wilted, already knowing that regular fairies were incapable of fixing the matter. The Great Fairy seemed to read that, and Kollin replied, “They haven’t been able to help, I’m afraid. But if you can summon them, I would like to have a few ready to assist my people and any traveler who passes through.”

“Of course,” Cotera replied. She raised a hand, and within seconds fairies seemed to materialize from the sky like snow petals, gently descending, wings flapping peacefully. Kollin bottled a few, thanking the Great Fairy once more, and then passed Tilieth, patting her on the shoulder sympathetically.

Tilieth stood alone, overwhelmed and upset, hope dashed once more, and she shivered as a drizzle started to speckle the area.

“Oh, dear girl,” the Great Fairy looked her over, eyes sad. “I may not be able to heal your boy, but let me help you in other ways. Allow me to enhance your clothing. It’s the least I can do, but I will need the necessary materials.”

Tilieth looked up to stare at the magical creature once more. Enhance her clothes?

“You see, I can increase their abilities to protect, or enhance inherent gifts,” Cotera explained.

But that meant— “Can you help me protect Link?”

“Of course,” Cotera answered gently. “Bring me his clothing and I can ensure he is safer than before.”

That was all Tilieth needed to hear before she was rushing down the hill back into the village. When she entered the inn, though, she immediately realized that Abel was awake and trying to ignore the innkeeper’s words.

“—all right, dear, your family is fine—”

“Abel!” Tilieth called, running to her husband as his eyes locked with hers. Abel reached out shakily, and Tilieth dragged him into a tight hug, whispering, “It’s okay, love, I’m here. Everyone’s safe, I promise.”

Abel felt heavy in her arms, sagging against her and trembling. He was clearly still exhausted, but he didn’t bother trying to argue any point, simply resting his head against her shoulder, hands grappling weakly on her tunic. He didn’t seem to have any more apologies, having spilled them repeatedly earlier, and Tilieth was honestly thankful for it. Her poor husband had apologized enough.

Tilieth kissed his ear, shifting and trying to get him to settle back down on the pillows. “You need to rest, Abel. Don’t worry about anything, okay?”

She supposed it was silly telling her husband not to worry. But he truly needed to rest – he’d driven himself nearly insane.

Abel watched her uncertainly, turning his head to look at Link. Despite wiggling a little on the mattress in an attempt to get comfortable, he couldn’t quite settle, though. Tilieth sighed, and Abel looked even guiltier for it.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him gently, brushing some hair out of his face. “It’s okay. Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

If he wasn’t going to sleep, he could at least rest. Tilieth would make sure of it. She advised Abel to stay put while she stripped Link of his tunic and trousers, leaving him bundled under some blankets, before guiding her husband to stand.

Abel was shaky on his feet, but he followed his wife wherever she went, letting her wrap an arm around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as they exited the inn.

“No more apologies,” Tilieth said firmly. “What happened is over, Abel—”

Her husband stiffened, looking at her and digging his heels into the ground. “I hurt you.”

“Yes, and then you hurt yourself,” Tilieth fired back. “Honey, I… you have to let me help you. It won’t get any better if you don’t.”

“But I—”

“You are exhausted,” she cut in, putting a hand on his cheek to settle him. “Honey, can’t you see that running away or beating yourself up about it will only make it worse?”

Tears were evident in her husband’s eyes, but he held them in, looking away and kissing her palm. When she got no further argument from him, Tilieth guided him outside of the village. Neither really knew what to say or if anything should be said as they moved. Tilieth was trying to figure out if she could even start confronting what had happened. She was afraid her words would fail her, that she would somehow make things worse, but she knew she was far more emotionally intelligent than her husband and they truly needed to address it. But Abel needed a moment to rest first. The bath would be good for that.

But first, they had to take care of helping Link. Tilieth wasn’t going to keep a Great Fairy waiting.

The fairy fountain was empty when Tilieth arrived, making her heart plummet. Had the Great Fairy left?

“What is this?” Abel asked, distracted. He watched it cautiously, but also with fascination – he too was taken in by the beauty of the place. His eyes also immediately caught sight of the fairies floating around. “Til, is… is this…?”

“A fairy fountain,” Tilieth finished for him, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

The water in the fountain rustled, making both of them jump, and then Cotera burst forth with an excited cry. Abel instinctively pushed Tilieth behind him, reaching for a weapon he wasn’t armed with, and Til tried to calm her husband hastily.

“It’s all right!” She said as the Great Fairy tilted her head to the side.

“Oh, you brought a friend!” The Great Fairy noted, intrigued. “He’s cute!”

Abel stammered, blushing, not expecting the remark. Tilieth laughed, but then she walked around her husband to offer the clothes. “Please, can you bless these? They’re my son’s.”

Cotera leaned over, examining the items. “Oh, yes, I should be able to. I only require a few items to do so.”

After hearing the listed items, Tilieth dug through her bag worriedly, and with great relief realized she had all the necessary ones. Abel looked between his wife and the Great Fairy, bemused, and watched as the large mystical woman received the offerings.

“I didn’t even realize there was a Great Fairy here,” Abel muttered. He looked shyly at Cotera, seeming a little apologetic.

Cotera looked at the clothes, smiled, and nodded, telling Tilieth to place them on the mushroom pedestal in front of her. The couple stood, waiting, and then the Great Fairy…

Blew a kiss on them?

Tilieth could feel a strange sensation, like warmth and tingling and energy, and she knew it had to be magic, could even see it in the air. But the manner in which it was delivered…

Cotera giggled in delight and then dove back into the water.

“What… just happened.” Abel said, monotone denoting a mixture of horror and confusion.

Tilieth hesitantly knelt down to examine the clothes. They didn’t look any different… but the magic had been there nonetheless. Surely it had to have done something.

“These magical creatures can be fickle,” Abel said quietly, kneeling down beside her. “Are you sure she didn’t just take your offerings and leave?”

“I saw the magic,” Tilieth argued mildly, hand running over the threads of the tunic. “Didn’t you?”

“I suppose,” Abel replied quietly, sounding dubious.

Tilieth bit her lip uncertainly. “Well… maybe we should just… well, we shouldn’t bother her, I guess. Let’s just get to the bathing area.”

Abel didn’t argue, seeming resigned to the matter. He grew quiet once more as they climbed the hill to the pond in question. Tilieth helped her husband strip down and ease into the water, exposing injuries old and new.

Tilieth’s hand traced an old scar on the back of his shoulder, and he shivered a little.

“I can bathe myself,” he finally spoke up, though his voice was still soft.

“I want to help,” Tilieth said firmly. Because that was what this was about, after all – Abel kept refusing help, continued to push himself to the point of collapse and near insanity.

It had to stop. She had already resolved she could be strong enough for everyone for a short while, long enough for Abel to get a little better.

Abel sighed, giving up.

The couple was quiet as Tilieth helped him bathe. She wasn’t entirely sure how to start the conversation of addressing what had happened, worried that he would just shut it down or she wouldn’t know what to say. Slowly, Abel started to lean back against her, letting her hold him, letting himself rest. He closed his eyes, calloused hands reaching up to gently hold her wrists as she wrapped her arms around his chest.

Tilieth finally found her voice. “What happened, Abel?”

Her husband grew tense in her hold, eyes opening, though he refused to make eye contact.

“The last thing I remember was that you had said you would sleep, and you didn’t,” she continued. “You snuck off to Hyrule Field of all places. I was so worried.”

Her husband’s face grew stony, eyes gazing off somewhere she couldn’t reach. She was worried he wouldn’t speak at all, and after a minute or so that seemed the case.

“I saw a guardian,” he finally admitted, so quietly she almost missed it.

Tilieth felt her blood freeze.

“It wasn’t real,” her husband added with a breathy, morose laugh. “I… Tilieth, I… I saw a guardian that wasn’t there, and I hurt you as a result. I’m… it isn’t safe to be around me.”

Tilieth tried to catch her breath, to make her heart rate slow down after the mere thought of a guardian being anywhere near her or her family. She swallowed thickly, moving forward to hold him again as if to prove him wrong.

Finally, she said, “The only thing… that isn’t safe… is you not sleeping.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Abel replied darkly.

Tilieth bit her tongue. No, perhaps it wasn’t. But that was the best way she could fix it right now. Lack of sleep had sent him over the edge.

But the truth of the matter was that there was clearly something wrong that sleep deprivation could lead to such a disastrous night. And, even worse, his choices as a result of that night.

Abel took a shaky breath. “My entire life… I… I’ve always had to take care of my family. But lately, I… Til, there comes a time when your usefulness is at an end.”

Tilieth swallowed, trying to argue, eyes widening with alarm.

Abel sighed, rinsing some soap off his shoulder. “I can finish up, love. Please… go back to the village.”

“No.” Her voice came out stronger than she anticipated, stubborn and hurt and scared and angry.

Abel stiffened, very obviously trying to keep his breathing even. His cheeks flushed, but his face grew cold, like it always did when he was getting frustrated.

“You’re sick,” Tilieth spat out. “You’re sick, and you’re hurt, and hurting, and—I’m not leaving you.”

“So I can get you killed too?” Abel hissed, turning sharply in the water, splashing the area around them so he could face her.

“You didn’t get anyone killed—”

“I told Link to go to Fort Hateno!” Abel yelled, rising. The area grew quiet as the birds flew away in fright, as Tilieth stared at him, speechless. “All those years ago—during the Calamity… I—I told him to go to Fort Hateno, that I would meet him there, and it got him almost killed! And then when the Shrine of Resurrection was his last hope—”

“Abel, the Shrine wasn’t your fault!” Tilieth interrupted desperately. “None of it was! You had no way of knowing—”

“What kind of father am I, that I couldn’t protect my children?!” Abel argued, tears starting to slide down his cheeks, voice shaking. “What kind of husband am I that I hit my own wife?! What kind of knight am I, that I murder my own people, that I fail to protect my king, that—”

Tilieth moved towards him hastily, holding him close as his words dissolved into sobs. Her own body trembled, mind whirling, wondering desperately how she could reach him when he had managed to get so far out of reach.

How long had he been stewing in this misery, she wondered? And why couldn’t she better help him?

It doesn’t matter, she tried to tell herself. I can’t change what was, only what is.

“You’re only Hylian,” she finally whispered, her own voice trembling as well. “You’re only Hylian, love. You’re doing your best. Sometimes we all falter.”

Abel scoffed, pushing her away. “Sometimes. Sometimes! My failures are constant—”

“You got us to Kakariko safely!” Tilieth stood up, voice strengthening, fists balling. “You protected us the entire journey from the Great Plateau, you’re single-handedly responsible for getting most of the spirit orbs that have been healing Link! You protect me for ten years! You served the kingdom faithfully! Do you really think you could’ve single-handedly stopped the Calamity? Even Link couldn’t, even the Princess couldn’t!”

Her words cut into him, which was apparent from how he flinched. Tilieth honestly wasn’t sure she’d ever yelled at her husband. Her heart was racing, her blood was surging through her, heartbeat drumming in her ears. She was terrified, but she was so frustrated—why couldn’t her beloved just listen to her?!

But the anger seeped out of her quickly. The tears returned, and she started to tremble, strength leaving her alongside her ire. “Can’t you see, Abel? Can’t you see that the only way you’re making things worse is by trying to fight me on this? The only way you can truly hurt us is by leaving us, by hurting yourself the way you are. You’re not perfect, love, none of us are. The only way we can make it though this is with faith in the goddess’ protection and trust in each other.”

Pain was evident on her husband’s face, and he took a small step back, seeming to shrivel into himself as the fight drained out of him. He looked down, ashamed. “I can’t even trust myself.”

“You don’t have to,” Tilieth whispered gently, kneeling down to be at eye level with him as he sank back into the water. She cupped his face with her hands, making him look at her. “Trust me. Don’t you trust me to take care of you?”

Abel’s lips twitched like he was going to argue further, but he thought better of it, sighing and leaning his head forward until their foreheads touched.

“I know you’re sorry,” Tilieth said before he could even try to apologize again, a small smile pulling at her lips.

Abel huffed a wet laugh, shivering and moving forward to hug her again.

Tilieth held him for what felt like an eternity, yet it still didn’t feel like long enough. Eventually, though, the coolness of the water made her husband start to shake, teeth chattering. She didn’t say anything else, out of words and exhausted, but hopeful as well. It seemed like she might have gotten through to him. Abel, for his part, also seemed too worn out to speak anymore.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress, and it gave her hope. Perhaps they could stop lingering on what had happened, then, and start to move on.

Tilieth helped Abel climb out of the water, wrapping him in a towel and holding him again so he could warm up. He rested his chin on her shoulder, leaning his head against hers, no longer fighting the matter at all. However, just as she finished drying him off and was reaching for his clothes, he said softly, “That platform… it looks like a shrine.”

Confused, Tilieth turned to look at the strange platform that she’d noticed when she’d bathed Link earlier in the day. She… supposed the color scheme was similar, but it looked nothing like a shrine, to be honest.

But Abel seemed transfixed now, eyes alight with thoughts. Tilieth let him stew on the matter a moment, more concerned about getting him dressed so he wouldn’t be cold. When she prompted him to put the clothes on, though, he continued, “Wait… the item… that orb in Impa’s home…”

Orb? There was an orb? “Honey, what are you talking about?”

Abel rose, heading towards the bridge to get back to the village, and Tilieth hastily got in his way. “Abel, get dressed!”

Her husband paused, distracted, only realizing then that he was still just in a towel, and hastily put his clothes on. Then he moved with purpose, Tilieth trailing behind him worriedly. He needed to rest, whatever this was about could wait—

Oh, who was she kidding? Abel was nothing if not persistent when he was on a quest. It was where Link got his stubbornness from. At least he was focusing on helping the family and not running away. But she would make him sleep once he’d settled the matter in his mind.

They moved hastily to Lady Impa’s abode, and the Sheikah chief looked surprised to see Abel there. Before she could get a word in, though, he pointed to something in the corner, and Tilieth felt herself gasp a little as she caught sight of it.

Honestly, she hadn’t noticed it before, but the orb did match the platform perfectly.

“We need that,” Abel said, voice not quite as firm as it usually was, but commanding nonetheless.

“I—what?” Lady Impa looked between the glowing ball and Abel. “I’m sorry, but that is a Sheikah heirloom, you can’t have that. It’s been guarded by my ancestors for centuries.”

“Yes, probably millennia,” Abel insisted. “It has to do with the shrines, don’t you see that? There’s a platform where you can place it by your bathing area.”

Impa blinked, stuttering, before looking quickly between the orb and the knight once more. “Wh—I—but—”

To his credit, Abel was patient, lowering his arm and waiting for her to parse it out. Tilieth gasped as she realized it too. “Do you think it’s a puzzle of some sort for the shrine?”

Lady Impa sighed, easing herself to the cushion on the ground as she pondered the matter. “All our research on ancient Sheikah tech and I… really just had this right here in my family’s estate…”

Abel shifted, very clearly trying to hold himself back. “So… may we use it?”

The Sheikah chief rubbed her face a moment before rising and nodding, eyes firm. “I’ll go with you.”

The chief picked up the large orb, refusing to let Abel touch it, but she followed them as they made their way back to the bathing spring. Tilieth’s mind was whirling, but she felt pride in her husband swell in her as well.

The pride grew tenfold, mixing with relief and cheer, as Lady Impa placed the orb in a perfectly carved hole, and a shrine appeared from the earth.

“You really should give yourself more credit, love,” Tilieth said gently, putting a hand on his arm. “Even in your hurt and anguish, you still help us.”

Abel chewed the inside of his cheek, and she knew he was doing that to fight to maintain composure in front of Lady Impa. He was far too tired to succeed very well, though.

“This is amazing,” Lady Impa breathed, awed. “I—we should get Link right away!”

“Yes, we should,” Tilieth agreed, before turning to Abel. “But I want you to go back to the inn and rest, please. Lady Impa and I can handle this shrine.”

Abel’s face paled, eyes widening, before he stopped himself entirely from arguing. Looking defeated, he nodded, and the group made their way back to the village. When the chief rushed inside the inn, Tilieth pulled Abel aside outside the door so they had a moment alone, and she kissed him tenderly.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, looking him in the eye. “I just want you to rest. Please, Abel. Trust me. It’s the only way you’re going to get better.”

Impa let out a yelp from inside, and Abel and Tilieth rushed indoors in an instant to find the Sheikah chief blushing.

“I didn’t realize he was just in his underwear,” the chief waved off with an embarrassed laugh.

Tilieth couldn’t help her own cackling. “I got his clothes blessed by the Great Fairy. Here, let me get him dressed and we can get going.”

She gave one last look to her husband, who looked mildly amused, and kissed his cheek, guiding him to bed before turning her attention to Link. They’d get him to the shrine as the sun was descending towards the horizon, which meant she had just enough time afterward to make dinner for her family and make some clothes for Abel.

Considering how the day had started, this was an enormous improvement, and she thanked Hylia for it.

Abel sat on the bed, watching Tilieth dress their child, and leaned against the pillows reluctantly as she and Impa left.

And then there was silence in the building.

Abel shifted a little, uncomfortable and anxious. He didn’t want Tilieth and Link going to a shrine without him. But he also knew he was in no state to be helpful to anyone. He still had half a mind to try and leave again, but he knew that was irrational fear talking, desperation and panic driven from exhaustion and—

He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Of course he was terrified, he’d—

What sort of monster was he, anyway? And how was it fair in any way for Tilieth to have to clean up the mess he’d made? He was a grown man, he should’ve kept himself in check, should’ve realized that—

Abel let out a shaky breath, burying his face in his hands as he curled in on himself. Then he heard a foot rustle across wood, and he bolted to his feet, eyes alert.

An older woman gasped a little, holding her hands up. Ah. It was the innkeeper. He couldn’t quite remember her name, though.

“It’s just me, it’s all right,” she insisted gently. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You were resting quite well earlier.”

There was no way he would be able to sleep knowing that Link and Tilieth were exploring a shrine without him. Those things were dangerous. Abel didn’t bother replying, not wanting to be rude, but not really knowing what to say aside from no. He didn’t have the energy to really care about pleasantries. At least he wasn’t being irritable, he supposed.

He wished time could just… stop. That they could use the Sheikah slate’s time magic to stop everything, for at least a week. He felt like he could sleep a month, honestly, if he knew nothing would happen or change in that time.

But that was a fool’s wish. Time didn’t stop for anyone. Anxiety gripped at him once more, making his chest tight. He needed to do something.

Glancing around, he noticed the innkeeper had started sweeping the floor when he’d been silent in response to her. He felt bad for ignoring her, and he really needed to move. “Can… may I do that?”

The innkeeper glanced up at him, a little surprised. “Do… you want to sweep? Oh, young man, I appreciate your offer, but—”

“Please,” Abel interrupted, getting somewhat desperate. If he didn’t have something to do he knew he’d just leave this place altogether. “I… I can’t just stay in bed. Put me to work, please.”

The innkeeper watched him a moment and then sighed, face sympathetic. “All right, dear. But on one condition.”

Abel perked up, listening.

“If you get tired, you have to take a break,” the innkeeper said gravely, finger in the air to emphasize her point. “You’re supposed to be resting, after all. You’ve had a harrowing time lately.”

Yes, he supposed the innkeeper had seen the majority of his outbursts. Abel felt himself blush in shame, looking at his feet, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless. The innkeeper handed her broom off to him, allowing him to sweep the floor in peace.

The repetitive motion brought some calm to his mind, and he was grateful for it. He wondered if this was why Tilieth liked to clean sometimes, though he knew she was happiest wandering outside.

He tried not to think about the events of the early morning, but it was hard not to. Now that he’d gotten a bit of sleep and time to think about it…

He didn’t know. He still wasn’t entirely sure it had been a mistake to try and leave. He hadn’t been intent on hurting himself, but given the choice between eliminating himself from the equation and potentially hurting Tilieth or Link further, the decision had been very easy.

Abel paused, growing a little breathless. Was he tired, or was he overwhelmed?

What kind of weakling am I, that I cannot handle this anymore?

You’re only Hylian, his wife’s voice whispered back. Even the Princess herself couldn’t stop the Calamity.

Abel wasn’t trying to stop the Calamity, he was trying to save Link! But he couldn’t even hold himself together anymore!

He couldn’t do everything, but Tilieth couldn’t either. He couldn’t rely on her to take care of him and Link.

Was this simply pride? Or was Abel correct, knowing tha the should be stronger than this? When Tilieth had gotten ill all those years ago, he’d taken care of Link and had gone on a mission to Zora’s Domain, fulfilling his duty, financially supporting his family, and raising their son while Tilieth recovered in Hateno. Yet now…

Tilieth was asking for the same, was asking to take care Abel and Link so he could recover.

Could he recover?

Despair filled him for a moment, and he choked it down viciously, sweeping the floor once more and ramming the broom into the wall. His grip on the item trembled, and he stopped.

“Sir Abel,” the innkeeper said gently.

Abel felt anger rise in him, but he bit back whatever scalding remark was fighting its way out. He didn’t know how to stop this.

Have faith in the goddess. Trust in each other.

Abel scowled.

Faith in the goddess. What sort of faith could he have in someone who had abandoned her people? Had she abandoned the princess too? Was that why the young girl had been incompetent?

But do you not trust Tilieth?

He needed to lay down. The world was spinning. He wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

Sighing, Abel dragged his feet over to the bed. This was a nightmare and he didn’t know how to escape it. Tilieth’s words rattled in his mind once more, and he realized it truly was just a choice. He would feel the same either way, but he had to choose to trust his wife. Either he would be miserable and alone, or miserable with her.

But what if he hurt her again? What if he hurt Link?

They were wasting time here in the village, and it was his fault. No matter what he did, it… if he tried to leave again, Tilieth would track him down. It would be ceaseless, and Link would die. Abel had to… had to…

Funny, how Tilieth had wanted to separate but refused to do so now. Abel felt bitterness and frustration rise in his gut, and he tried to let it go.

The door to the inn opened, and he saw Tilieth returning, triumphant, as Impa carried Link indoors.

“Oh, honey, it was great!” Tilieth said excitedly, rushing over to him. “You solved the puzzle and we didn’t even have to do anything! We got in there and it was just the monk and an opal.”

Abel stared, thinking about it. That had… never happened.

Goddesses… were they getting an actual reprieve for once?

“That’s… good,” he offered hesitantly, watching Impa put Link in the bed next to him.

“It’s great!” Tilieth insisted, hands clasped together before she hugged him. Abel tried to return the gesture, but his wife was too excited and pulled away quickly. “Oh, I have to make dinner, and—will you watch Link, dear?”

Abel nodded mutely, and Tilieth was out the door in an instant. Her cheer was a little infectious, he supposed, pulling a small smile on one side of his lips. Then he slowly dragged himself over to Link’s bed, pulling the boy to him and laying down as Impa turned to leave.

Before the Sheikah chief could depart, though, Abel asked, “Who were those people? From this morning. The ones who attacked us. They didn’t dress like Yiga.”

Lady Impa paused, hugging herself uncertainly. “I… don’t know. They bore something akin to the Yiga symbol on their foreheads, but like you said, they… didn’t dress like them. I’ve never encountered those people before.”

Abel swallowed, holding Link closer. “Very well.”

There was silence between the two, heavy and awkward given their last conversation, and Abel finally said, “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

“I’ll always protect your family,” Impa insisted calmly, with conviction, facing him fully. “Including you, Sir Abel. I’m glad we found you in time.”

Abel huffed, only mildly annoyed.

“Please rest, good knight,” Impa said. “I will pray for your recovery. And it will happen. I’ve seen it in other members of my tribe. The Calamity left scars on us all. You have to allow yourself to heal. Tilieth is more than willing to help.”

Abel stared at the wall, unable to face the chief, feeling like a fool, like a child lost in Castle Town’s bustling atmosphere, freshly orphaned and wondering what he was supposed to do now while his sisters cried. He hated feeling this helpless. He nodded, and he heard the chief leave.

The room fell silent. He wondered if the innkeeper was still there, or if she’d stepped out. Link was silent and motionless as usual. Abel felt tempted to rouse him just to see his eyes, just to talk to him, but he figured the boy needed rest more than he did. So he simply kissed his head and closed his eyes.

He didn’t know what the future would bring. But he knew this respite couldn’t last, no matter what choice he made. They would have to leave tomorrow. But for tonight, he wouldn’t think about any of it, even if that went against every fiber of his being.

Recovery was a choice. Trust was a choice. Tilieth made that choice as she prayed outside at the Hylia statue while the food simmered in the cooking pot. Abel made that choice as he tried to sleep, disregarding Link wiggling in the bed, listening to the crickets peek out and start their symphony of the night.

Trust was a choice. He would try to make it.

He would try.

#Oh wow this chapter got long #Sorry about that #Tilieth embarks on a million side quests and finishes approximately a third of them #Don’t worry I’m sure she got that stamina elixir eventually #Had to make those clothes after all #Sheik is a sourpuss #Abel is a Hot Mess but he’s trying to rest #Emphasis on the trying lol #Me: yeah yeah Abel will get a break :)#Me when I actually write the chapter: ok but like let’s be realistic here he wouldn’t relax that easily—#Abel is hopeless and so am I apparently #BUT HE’S TRYING OK #IT STILL COUNTS #HE GOT A NICE BATH AND CUDDLES AND HUGS #IT. COUNTS.#Anyway guess who got another ✨heart container✨#Link in his comatose state: Why do I sense so much drama and feel the need to be part of it #Impa needs a vacation #honestly they all do #too bad that ain’t gonna happen #Abel said “fine I’ll rest NOW CAN WE GET BACK TO THE PLOT PLEASE”#Yes Abel we can #I’ll stop rambling now #writing #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #Abel #tilieth #Breath of the wild link #blood of the hero

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vallxlkzal · 27 days ago

Text

So, I decided to write another little fanfic because I can't stop thinking about it 🌚✨

💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔

The Detective drove home and purred his own tune under his breath, not even listening to the radio in the car. And why? No more notifications of another murder, no more crimes committed by Waldo.

No more Waldo as a killer, because...

The Detective looked at the ring on his finger and smiled wryly. At first, it was just a way to calm Waldo down, an attempt to play his game, but it seems the game went too far for both of them. Unironically far.

Now they are a family, now they are husband and husband. How it happened, they still neither understood, but they never went back to the past. It's still better than chasing him around the world and deciphering red letters.

Well, okay, Waldo still leaves some encrypted notes on the fridge and laughs when the Detective tries to decipher them. Or he walks around the house with a hat and a stick, refusing to put them down. He says that the hat and the stick are a part of him, and he feels inferior without them. The Detective would never have thought that this creature feels anything, but Wenda has never taken off her hat in the past and always carried a camera or an umbrella.

She and Waldo are quite similar, so the Detective sometimes even forgets that it is not Wenda, but Waldo. One warm night, the difference between them was completely erased, and everything fell into place as if it was meant to be. As if Waldo was Junior's mother.

Or the Detective just went completely crazy. And for some reason he began to like it very much.

It was nice to come home again. He were waiting, always waiting. Junior and Waldo, whom the little boy called his own dad. Maybe it was true. Maybe Waldo was Junior's real dad, but the Detective couldn't say for sure for one reason... The cop just hoped that this was the LAST time. The last Waldo. That there would be no more repetition of this story.

The car drove smoothly up to the house and parked. The Detective went outside and took with him some purchases he had made at the store before returning home. He still could not believe that he was buying Waldo some things or gifts just to see his smiling, calm face. Waldo had said that he was sick of peace and this life, that he needed killing, blood, chase, adrenaline, but then he lay with the Detective in a warm embrace in front of the TV and smiled, hugging Junior, who decided to join them in watching a movie. Waldo finally came together and there were no more five of him. He was one and unique.

The Detective hoped so.

At times, he was afraid that he would lose Waldo as well. For some reason, this fear remained, and now it has woken up again.

The lights in the house were off. Perhaps everyone was asleep. Yeah. That's right. Everyone was asleep. Nothing bad had happened.

The Detective walked to the front door with his usual calm step and unlocked it with his key, finally turning on the light in the quiet, empty living room.

Waldo always waited for the Detective here. He could even lean right up against the window and stand there for hours, scaring passersby and taking a break to look out at the street just to spend time with Junior.

Waldo could have jumped into a hug, appeared unexpectedly and kissed him, or simply waved his long, thin, striped arm from the other room to greet his husband.

But none of this happened now.

The Detective put his things on the table and went into the bedroom without taking off his shoes.

Sometimes Waldo would just sleep. Surprisingly, this striped creature was very fond of sleeping, could sleep for days and could easily be killed if they were still enemies. The Detective smiled nervously. Please, let Waldo just sleep...

The Detective did not see Junior anywhere on the road either. Cop called out to everyone, but no one came. Panic gradually began to creep into the man and, unfortunately, there was a reason for it.

Abruptly opening the door to the bedroom and turning on the light, the Detective exhaled in shock, realizing how dizzy he was getting and how his body was getting weaker from the familiar powerlessness in front of a familiar situation.

The entire bed was covered in blood. Bright red blood, fresh. Is it possible...

The Detective quickly walked around the bed, looking around the room. A bloody trail led to the nightstand where Waldo's phone was lying. Then these crimson traces broke off halfway and began to slide down, as if the hand that had tried to take the phone was trying to hold onto the nightstand with its last strength, but the strength was leaving its weak, wounded body.

No, not again... No, no, no...

Looking down even further, the Detective swallowed the heavy lump in his throat and grimaced as if the stick that had been driven through Waldo's chest had also pierced the Detective himself. Because they were now one, a family, it all felt too painful.

Waldo was dead. But, before he died, he tried to reach for the phone and apparently dial the Detective's number. Poor thang failed.

Now Waldo was sleeping an eternal sleep. One of those Waldos who was cured by the Detective's kindness.

The Detective knelt down exhaustedly in front of Waldo's corpse, the next corpse in his miserable life, and picked up a glass of whiskey that had been generously filled with expensive alcohol and carefully left by someone right next to Waldo, drinking it all at once and to the bottom.

The Detective lifted the red envelope from Waldo's face and looked into his husband's dead eyes: wide open in the sheer fear he felt before he died, and wet with tears, which could indicate that everything had happened quite recently. Maybe even when the cop was driving home.

The Detective couldn't help but cry, which was becoming more and more every minute due to grief and fast-acting alcohol.

This all happens again and again. As soon as Waldo becomes calm, sweet and kind, not a psychopath with a bloodlust, this is inevitable. As soon as Waldo becomes attached to the Detective, as soon as he wakes him up in the morning with a gentle kiss on the cheek and laughs, as soon as he talks about things the Detective has never seen or heard before because he hasn't traveled the world, as soon as Waldo waits for him every day at work by the window and squeals with happiness, hugging the Detective from the doorway.

As soon as Waldo finds himself in bed with this man and makes love to him as if it were the last time...

And when he gives birth to Junior, saying that it was the happiest day of his long, long, striped life. And when the new one is next to Junior. And when another new one is next to Junior...

And it's happening again.

The Detective opened a new red envelope and saw not a cipher, but calligraphic, carefully written letters that drove the unfortunate man to hysteria, a sharp thorn growing all over his body:

"Dear Detective,

Do you think this is the last time or are there a few more Waldos you'll drag into your bed and make this striped, inhibited by your charms, dork yours, haha? This trick won't work with me. I am not your toy. You are my toy. Do you understand.

And by the way, I'm taking Junior. He is MY son, not yours.

Waldo"

***

Ukrainian version (original):

Детектив їхав додому і муркотів якусь власну мелодію під ніс, навіть не слухаючи радіо в машині. А навіщо? Більше немає сповіщень про чергове вбивство, більше немає злочинів, скоєних Валдо.

Більше немає Валдо, як вбивці, бо...

Детектив подивився на обручку на своєму пальці і криво посміхнувся. Спочатку це був просто спосіб заспокоїти Валдо, спроба пограти в його гру, але, здається, гра зайшла занадто далеко для обох. І неіронічно далеко.

Тепер вони сім'я, тепер вони чоловік і чоловік. Як так вийшло, вони і досі обидва не розуміли, але більше не поверталися до минулого. Все одно це краще, ніж ганятися за ним по всьому світу і розшифровувати червоні листи.

Ну гаразд, Валдо досі залишає на холодильнику якісь зашифровані записки і сміється, коли Детектив намагається розшифрувати. Або ходить по дому в шапці і з палицею, відмовляючись їх відкласти. Каже, що шапка і палиця — це частина його, без них від відчуває себе неповноцінним. Детектив би ніколи не подумав, що це створіння відчуває хоч щось, але Венда в минулому теж ніколи не знімала шапку і завжди носила з собою камеру чи парасольку.

Вони з Валдо доволі схожі, тому Детектив іноді навіть забуває, що поруч не Венда, а Валдо. Різниця між ними повністю стерлась однієї теплої ночі і все стало на свої місця, наче так і повинно було бути. Наче це Валдо — мати Джуніора.

Або Детектив просто зійшов з розуму до кінця. І йому чомусь це стало дуже подобатися.

Повертатися додому знову було приємно. Там чекали, завжди чекали. Джуніор і Валдо, якого маленький хлопчик називав рідним татом. Можливо, воно так і було. Можливо, Валдо і був справжнім татом Джуніора, але Детектив вже не міг точно сказати з-за однієї причини... Коп просто сподівався, що це ОСТАННІЙ раз. Останній Валдо. Що більше не буде повторення цієї історії.

Машина плавно під'їхала до будинку і припаркувалась. Детектив вийшов на вулицю і захватив з собою деякі покупки, які зробив в магазині перед поверненням додому. Він і досі не вірив, що купує Валдо якісь речі чи подарунки просто щоб побачити його усміхнене, спокійне обличчя. Валдо ж казав, що його нудить від спокою і такого життя, що треба вбивства, кров, погоня, адреналін, але лежить потім з Детективом в теплих обіймах перед телевізором і посміхається, обіймаючи Джуніора, який вирішує приєднатися до їхнього перегляду фільму. Валдо нарешті зібрався докупи і його більше не було п'ять. Він був один і неповторний.

Детектив сподівався на це.

Часами він боявся, що втратить і Валдо. Залишився чомусь такий страх, і саме зараз він прокинувся знову.

Світло в домі не палало. Можливо, всі спали. Так. Точно. Всі спали. Нічого погано не відбулось.

Детектив звичним, спокійним кроком підійшов до вхідних дверей і відчинив їх за допомогою свого ключа, вмикаючи нарешті світло в тихій пустій вітальні.

Валдо завжди чекав тут Детектива. Міг навіть прямо до вікна притулятися і стояти так годинами, лякаючи перехожих і відриваючись на споглядання вулиці лише щоб провести час з Джуніором.

Валдо міг стрибнути в обійми, з'явитися зненацька і поцілувати, або просто помахати з іншої кімнати своєю довгою, худою, смугастою рукою, щоб привітати свого чоловіка.

Але цього всього зараз не відбулось.

Детектив поставив речі на стіл і, не знімаючи взуття, пішов до спальні.

Траплялось таке, що Валдо просто спав. На диво, це смугасте створіння дуже любило спати, могло спати днями і його можна було б легко вбити, якби вони все ще були ворогами. Детектив нервово посміхнувся. Будь-ласка, нехай Валдо просто спить...

Джуніора Детектив теж ніде по дорозі не бачив. Він кликав всіх, але ніхто не підійшов. Паніка поступово почала закрадатися до чоловіка і, нажаль, цьому була причина.

Різко відкривши двері в спальню і увімкнувши там світло, Детектив приголомшено видохнув, розуміючи, як починає паморочитися в голові і як тіло слабкішає від знайомого безсилля перед знайомою ситуацією.

Все ліжко було в крові. В яскраво-червоній крові, свіжій. Невже...

Детектив швидко обійшов ліжко, оглядаючи кімнату. Кривавий слід вів до тумбочки, на якій лежав телефон Валдо. Потім ці багряні сліди обірвалися на півдорозі і почали сповзати вниз так, неначе рука, яка намагалась взяти телефон, з останніх сил хотіла триматися за тумбочку, але сили покидали її слабке, поранене тіло.

Ні, тільки не знову... Ні, ні, ні..

Опустивши погляд ще нижче, Детектив проковтнув важкий ком в горлі і скривився так, неначе палиця, яка була наскрізь пробита через груди Валдо, також пробила і самого Детектива. Бо ж вони тепер були одним цілим — сім'єю, тому відчувалось все занадто болюче.

Валдо був мертвий. Але, перед смертю, він намагався дотягнутися до телефону і, очевидно, набрати номер Детектива. Не вдалося.

Тепер Валдо спав вічним сном. Один з тих Валдо, якого вилікувала доброта Детектива.

Детектив обезсилено опустився на коліна перед черговим трупом Валдо в своєму нікчемному житті і взяв в руки стакан віскі, який був щедро заповнений дорогим алкоголем і дбайливо залишений кимось прямо біля Валдо, випиваючи все одразу і до дна.

Детектив підняв з обличчя Валдо червоний конверт і подивився в мертві очі свого чоловіка: широко розкриті в суцільному жаху, який він відчував перед смертю, а ще мокрі від сліз, що могло свідчити про те, що все відбулось зовсім недавно. Можливо навіть тоді, коли коп під'їзджав додому.

Детектив не втримався від сліз, яких з кожною хвилиною ставало дедалі більше з-за горя і швидко діючого алкоголю.

Це все повторюється знову і знову. Як тільки Валдо стає спокійним, милим і добрим, не психопатом з бажанням крові, це стається неминуче. Як тільки Валдо прив'язується до Детектива, як тільки будить його зранку ніжним цілунком в щоку і сміється, як тільки розмовляє про речі, які раніше Детектив ніколи не бачив і не чув, бо не подорожував по світу, як тільки Валдо чекає кожен день з роботи біля вікна і пищить від щастя, обіймаючи Детектива з порогу... Як тільки опиняється з ним в ліжку і гаряче кохається зі своїм чоловіком, ніби в останній раз...

І коли він народжує від Детектива Джуніора, кажучи, що це був найщасливіший день в його довгому-довгому, смугастому житті. І коли новий він поруч з Джуніором. І коли ще один новий він поруч з Джуніором...

І це відбувається знову.

Детектив відкрив новий червоний конверт і побачив там не шифр, проте каліграфічно, старанно виведені літери, що довели нещасного чоловіка до істерики, гострою колючкою розростаючоюся по всьому тілі:

"Дорогий Детективе,

Як думаєте, це востаннє чи є ще декілька Валдо, яких ви затягнете в ваше ліжко і зробите цього смугастого, загальмованого вашою чарівністю йолопа своїм, хаха? Зі мною цей фокус не пройде. Я вам не іграшка. Це ви — моя іграшка. Ясно тобі.

А, до речі, Джуніора я забираю. Це МІЙ син, не ваш.

Валдо"

🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔

#lumpy touch where's waldo #lumpy touch #warning trans waldo #ouuuuggghhhhhh

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byizoyas · 1 year ago

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honkai star rail ; drabbles

2023. byizoyas — pls do not plagiarize or repost and claim as yours ! thank you very much :)

✘ sfw. sharing a dance with your ex boyfriend ✘ blade x gn!reader

the moment you stepped into the large crowded room was the moment you realized you just made a mistake when agreeing to come.

a few months ago, you would’ve been enchanted by the idea of wearing a fancy dress, eating and drinking for free while partying with friends you would lose time to meet up with after that.

the music wasn’t too bad, even though it wasn’t your favorite genre and everyone was pretty well dressed. but a few details caught your attention immediately.

first, your friends didn’t arrive at the party yet.

second, you weren’t fully free; the teachers were staring and obviously controlling the situation; but you didn’t expect less since it was organized by the college and they had to make sure y’all were responsible.

finally, your ex was here. and the moment you stepped in, you caught his eye; sharing a king and awkward eye contact.

you couldn’t really read the expression on his face now as it was quite dark in here. but you never managed to do so even when his face was right in front of yours.

blade was mysterious. a little too much actually and that was the main reason you guys broke up.

you cut the moment when you stared back at serval who walked towards you.

‘y/n ! you’re rocking that outfit.’ she exclaimed before patting you gently on the shoulder. she stared at your face and noticed the light makeup you put on before coming.

‘appreciate the effort.’ she said, and you both chuckled, knowing well it wouldn’t happen again. not that you didn’t like putting on some makeup, you just didn’t do it really often as it took some time you didn’t have.

she looked around the room and came closer to your ear to whisper a few things and making sure you’d hear her.

‘will you let me put your name on the box ?’

you frowned.

that was a pretty unique question and you didn’t understand its true meaning. but she quickly explained that two people would be picked up from two bowls to share a dance, with blindfolded eyes. and if you were being honest with yourself; you weren’t really interested but it seemed to matter to her and since she asked to you personally; you had no idea but to agree.

‘fine. put the paper with my name.’

‘thank you !’ she said hugging you before quickly running away.

you genuinely had no idea what she would win by adding your name to it; but as long as your friend was happy, you were fine with it. and there was a really small chance of you being chosen, right ?

at least that was what you thought, because time passed, your friends had arrived. you were partying and had almost forgot about this whole dance sharing thing.

next thing you knew you were blindfolded, standing in the middle of the room and pushed in the arms of the other person chosen.

‘y/n.’

‘how do you know it’s me. we weren’t supposed to be aware.’

blade chuckled. his hand tightened slightly and he killed the slight distance you had out between the two of you. with a hand holding yours while the other was pulling your waist closer, until you could almost feel his breath tickle your skin, you guys were now the center of the attention. you had no idea how many pairs of eyes were on you right now.

blade whispered against your skin; making you shiver again. ‘perhaps i know your body perfectly well and i do not need my eyes to recognize you.’

you sighed. you couldn’t say you despised him flirting with you; after all it did have its charm and you were still infinitely attracted to blade.

but you two weren’t a thing anymore and these words might mean nothing to him. after you mentally scolded yourself for almost falling for his words; you finally replied.

‘this is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.’

blade laughed. that was a genuine laugh and you could tell by the slight vibration of his chest against yours.

‘alright. perhaps i changed all the papers in the bowls by yours and mine.’

‘why would you do that ?’ you instinctively said; until the realization hit you.

was serval a part of his plan ? she was your friend and you didn’t remember her sharing a single conversation with blade, ever. but everything could happen during these parties.

you were probably overthinking this way too much, but to have your body sticked to your exe’s wasn’t really your plan when you got dressed for the party earlier.

‘cat got your tongue ?’ blade teased you. he used to do that a lot around you. with the others he kept that stoic face and seriousness but with you, he could be himself and he loved it.

he missed it. he missed you. and what he said was the truth. he, indeed, switched all papers in the pots to make sure the two of you would share this dance.

because he would hate to dance with another person; but he’d hate even more to see another person holding you in their arms.

it did take some time; but at the moment he realized, he couldn’t let his only occasion to make up for his mistakes fly away. and so, he did what he had to do to have a special moment with you.

‘shut up.’ you only found to say after you kept thinking of it all. ‘why did you do that blade ?’

you gulped, asking yourself whether to add the words you had in mind or not. but it did slip out of your mouth. ‘are we not nothing anymore these days ?’

it did hurt to say it. it was said as a rhetorical question; yet you craved an answer.

‘our eyes are covered y/n.’

‘and..? what am i supposed to understand ?’ you asked, starting to get quite impatient by now.

the music around you made it almost impossible for other people to hear your words especially since you whispered in each other’s ears.

‘i miss you. i want you back y/n.’

now you understood his plan. blade always found it hard to express himself. the main reason you guys weren’t together anymore was that lack of communication about his own feelings.

and now he was hiding under a blindfold to speak his heart out. you couldn’t hide your disappointment, and took a distance, breaking the dance and the moment you two were sharing.

you took the blindfold off your face throwing it into blade’s hands. ‘blade. if you cannot be a man and look into my eyes when confessing; then I do not want to hear you.’

you sounded rude; almost cruel. he was struggling and that you understood it more than anyone; but you were always here for him. you’ve been waiting for ages for him to confess, and it never happened.

to hear him do it in the middle of other students only because his eyes were hidden almost felt disrespectful to you.

‘i’m done.’ you said while turning around to leave. you never were much into making a scene in front of other people but some of them had stopped caring by now.

‘wait.’ blade almost commanded you to remain unloving and close to him when he grabbed your wrist, forbidding you to leave that place; forbidding you to leave him.

‘y/n. look at me.’ he let down the two blindfolds, turning your face, his king and thin fingers caressing your cheeks really gently.

his fingers were cold compared to the ambient temperature around you; but it almost felt electric. as if all the tension between you two was busting out and y’all were freeing yourselves from unsaid words and undone things.

‘you’re beautiful. you’re beautiful and i.. I love you.’

his cheeks were almost the same color as his red eyes by now. it was the very first time he said these words to you. the very first time he said these words ever and it felt special.

you kept staring at his face. his y comfort was visible yet he went out of his comfort zone only to prove his attachment to you.

you threw yourself into his arms, burying your face into his neck and dropping kisses against his burning skin.

eventually the song came to an end, but the night was far from over and after many times apart, you needed to feel, hear, and love him in every possible way.

a/n. - this is rlly far away from perfect, even away from great but i won’t find strength to modify it later and i kinda like it that way, messy and free to imagine. I love blade sm, tbh I almost wrote him as myself rn bc this is some shit i would do kfwkkfkf my communication skills suck so this is a way to cope ig.. anyway talking a lot for not much thing. 🥴

#byizoyas.#blade #honkai star rail scenarios #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr scenarios #blade x y/n #blade x reader #blade scenarios #blade drabbles #blade x you #hsr x y/n #blade fluff #hsr fluff

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thequietkid-moonie · 3 months ago

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Sharing a darling

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Naoko & Kazuya ] [ Pumpkin Night ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just for entretaiment

⚠️ This contain heavy spoilers

I wasn't able to not write about the way across the main story, my mind just told me that it was a blasphemy to do it soooo this is write since the start of the manga... sorry... I love it anyways, hope you enjoy it too dear reader 🖤

It isn't too surprising that the two of them end up falling in love with you, it has being only the three of you for a long time after all. The first who catched feeling for you was Naoko, you were so kind to her being her friend, never judging her and, perhaps, even sharing her likings, it was just matter of time for her to love you, while for Kazuya it take a little longer, he was drag around by Naoko along with you, it was thanks to her that you two met and for him was also just matter of time for him to see how of a beautiful person you truly are, catch feelings for you too

Naoko was well aware of her feeling for you and embrace them with a smile, and it was also her who noticed the growing feelings of Kazuya for you, it was a surprise and it make her nervous at first, acting a little possesive and pouty when he was around you but after a sometime of thinking she just realice that Kazuya will not dare to do anything against you nor her, besides, Kazuya is the only one person she trust enough to let her darling with

Slowly both grow to have a silent agreement to share you since both like you with the same intensity and the other is the only one who they trust. Even when they felt like living a dream life that beautiful dream was soon broken the moment Naoko was taken away to the mental hospital. It was this whole situation what lead Kazuya to finally realice his feelings, he have lost one of the people he cares the most and nothing assure that those jerks wouldn't go against you too, leading him to me more protective over you and even paranoid

Kazuya spend all his time at your side, cursing himself for being a coward who wasn't able to protect Naoko, promising to himself that this time he will protect you with his life, slowly taking you apart from everyone for feeling paranoid, but still trying his best to keep you happy at his side

When Pumpkin Night arrived and started its hunting he was even more scared, he was scare that this person may try to kill you like with the others, feeling his heart stop everytime you were separate from him. But it was Naoko's stubborness that end up leading her to aproach you and reveal herself to you and Kazuya, wanting nothing more than have you in her arms again and tell you how much she had missed you, even if her hands are now bloodstained she is still the same Naoko who loves you with her whole life, she even thanks Kazuya for taking such good care of you

Still, the little dream was broke again when Naoko was almost killed, Kazuya end up finishing what Naoko started due her paranoic state, he was blaming himself for every that have happened and if he wants to stop being a coward he needs to finish the job, for yours and their sake

Being away from you was a torture for both, even if Naoko lost her memory for a while she knew something was missing, and Kazuya wanted nothing but destroy the mental hospital for keeping him away from you, and, honestly, it was just because you were with Matsui that Naoko found the strength to fight to free Kazuya, she knew that he loves you as much as she does and it would be unfair to leave him suffering like this after all he has done for both, so Naoko promised you to come back to you along with Kazuya so the three of you will be able to finally live your happy ever after (and threating Matsui to make sure nothing bad happen to you)

After all the mess that have happened during the battle in the mental hospital the first thing Naoko and Kazuya did was run to your side, taking you in their arms and crying their heart out, both expressing how much they have miss you and how much they love you, how you are the only light of hope that have being leading them to continue and how they can now life together

Honestly, since the start you have being dragged for them to their lifes and that will not change, you have no option nor room to protest (let alone after all what happened), now that Naoko and Kazuya finally have you nothing and no one will be able to set you apart again, both will make sure of that

Naoko and Kazuya cares so deeply for each other that are able to work perfectly together for the sake of their beloved darling, both know that the other love you with the same intensity and wil do everything to protect you, so they have nothing to fear. Normally they don't feel jealous of each other, they are completely willing to share, but if one feels like being left behind they will express it imediatly, while Naoko gets pouty and touchy Kazuya gets more possesive, holding you in his arms and covering you from everything else, but they can easily clear their problems

Naoko and Kazuya are completely capable to share you with each other, but only them, no one else is allowed to even get close to you (the only exception is babyface and still Kazuya tent to put himself between you two), you are allowed to talk to the others and relate to them but they hang by a thread, if they do as much as thinking on doing something weird or get too close they quickly get punished, Naoko and Kazuya will not hesitant to get violent to anyone who dares to get between all of you (even if is their ally, they have to learn that you are untochable, by the good or the bad)

Despite being kidnapted and insolated by the rest of the world Naoko and Kazuya are loving and really caring, they are living their happy ever after and they want you to be happy too, willing to fulfill any wish you have (as long as it doesn't involve leaving them), you can do whatever you want as long as you include them in your plans

#pumpkin night #pumpkin night x reader #naoko kirino #naoko kirino x reader #naoko x reader #kazuya makino #kazuya makino x reader #kazuya x reader #yandere naoko kirino #yandere kazuya makino #x reader #x gn reader #manga x reader

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apocalypticavolition · 1 year ago

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Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 34: The Wheel Weaves

What's in the box? Some people already know and some people don't. As a general rule, if you're in the "don't" category and you hate spoilers, you shouldn't keep reading. If you only know cause you're reading The Great Hunt or you've seen season 2 of the show but you don't want spoilers past that point, you also shouldn't keep reading. I spoil everything.

This chapter begins with the Wheel icon because big things are happening, like assassinations and discovery of the Horn.

He had meant the choices to be a private comment on their stupidity, never dreaming any of them might listen, much less be intrigued. Intrigued in a way. They had demanded more of the same, but they had laughed in the wrong places, at the wrong things. They had laughed at him, too, apparently thinking he would not notice, or else that a full purse stuffed in his pocket would heal any wounds.

Another sign of how divorced the nobility in this country is from the commonfolk and by extension reality. They have two very different storytelling cultures and little overlap on anything. And yet Thom's bitterness about this has a hint of hypocrisy - he complains they thought he wouldn't notice their mockery even as he had thought they wouldn't notice his.

He was still not sure what he had intended to say. Rand was gone with his friends, and the Aes Sedai. It left a feeling of something not done.

The important thing is that you tried, and of course that now you can be extra angry at yourself for what happened because you delayed.

She rolled limply onto her back, staring up at him, glazed eyes open wide above the gash across her throat. The side of the bed that had been hidden by her body was dark and sodden.

I mean, what is there to say? Girl had great potential as a person and as a character and all that matters, to the point where she certainly stops getting mentioned after only a book or two, is that she spurs Thom to act now.

“The Game? I’m not mixed up in Daes Dae’mar! Who would want to kill me for the Great Game?”

Thom's protestations ring even more hollow. Where Rand's naivety is excusable, Thom's speaks only to how out of practice he is. Dude met with someone everyone thought was a lord, is performing for other lords, and thinks he's out of the Game? He basically chose to keep playing.

And there has been a woman, a lady, I have seen more than once while asking after him.

Lanfear meanwhile is so contemptuous of the Third Agers that she doesn't even care to disguise herself properly among them, I guess. I'm surprised she doesn't just spy herself though.

“If you mean Barthanes, you’re too late. Everybody’s talking about it already. He is dead. His servants found him this morning, torn to pieces in his bedchamber. The only way they knew it was him was his head stuck on a spike over the fireplace.”

Forget who killed Asmodean, who the heck killed Barthanes? It probably wasn't Galldrian; killing a random is one thing but having his rival brutally eviscerated is another. It couldn't have been Fain, he was already gone. Ishamael or Lanfear might have done it by way of the gholam, but what would piss either of them off enough? The Horn going to Toman Head is hardly Barthanes' mistake and doesn't really interfere with Lanfear's desired outcomes at all. Plus if they did use the gholam, what did it get up to all this time between now and its first appearance?

“These aren’t Barthanes’s men, Thom. At least, that one isn’t.” She nodded toward the fat man. “It’s the worst kept secret in Cairhien that he works for House Riatin. For Galldrian.”

This vaguely points at Galldrian being responsible for Barthanes' death as well I suppose, but like I said the method seems entirely out of character.

“Perhaps you had better think about leaving, too. It looks as if someone is firing the granaries.”

I'm also going to rule out the rioters as an unlikely suspect on the grounds that Barthanes' death is probably the inciting incident for them, not the first, implausbly well-hidden step. But seriously. Who did it?

*considers Verin for a moment*

Nah. She's the least suspicious person alive.

The pack horse bearing his precious burden bumped his leg, and he kicked it in the ribs without looking; the animal snorted and jerked back to the end of the lead he had tied to his saddle.

So obviously the part that immediately follows this about how Fain fed the horse's previous owner to the Trollocs is way, way eviler, but let's just appreciate exactly how dedicated to unpleasantness Fain has become.

Men gathered more information on the invaders, as if they actually believed they would eventually do something with what they knew, but they sometimes tried to hold back. Women, by and large, seemed interested in going on with their lives whoever their rulers were, yet they noted details men did not, and they talked more quickly once they stopped screaming.

I kind of don't buy this? Random women from every village are being taken away and never seen again. I'm not a woman myself but I don't think it's a stretch to say that such actions would put most women on edge for fear of the Seanchan coming back and taking more tribute, since they don't know about the damane selection process yet.

The people hurried about their business with eyes down, bowing whenever soldiers passed, but the Seanchan paid them no mind. It all seemed peaceful on the surface, despite the armored Seanchan in the streets and the ships in the harbor, but Fain could sense the tension underneath. He always did well where men were tense and afraid.

1) I'm very sad that this element of the occupation disappears in later books it rings a lot truer; everyone should be afraid.

2) Is Fain saying thinking this in the sense of looking back over his career as a Darkfriend and how he always did better scaring them with peddler's tales, or is this the sum total of his evil reflecting on Aridhol, the Ways, and more? Both?

Women went in and out of a house across the street, women linked by silver leashes, but he ignored them. He knew about damane from the villagers. They might be of some use later, but not now.

Seriously: what use can Fain be imagining for damane, considering his current power set?

He was always confident, but never more than where lords feared an assassin’s knife from their own followers.

This is definitely more all of the evil within Fain than his own experiences, as we have no reason to think he was ever an assassin in his backstory.

“I have seen chests such as this, chests from the Age of Legends,” the High Lord said, “though none so fine. They are meant to be opened only by those who know the pattern, but I—ah!”

Major points to Turak who easily sidesteps Fain's plans entirely by accident. As much as I loathe the Seanchan, I despise Fain more.

Still holding the Horn and the dagger, Turak looked at the cabinet, then away. He said nothing, but the other Seanchan snapped quick orders, and in moments men in plain woolen robes appeared through a door behind the screens bearing another small table.

For all the shit I've given the Cairhienien nobility, I suppose I also need to offer them some credit for at least not expecting their servants to interpret their every facial gesture. Rich people on every continent desperately need to get over themselves.

Fain could stand it no longer. He reached for the dagger.

Fain isn't anywhere near as slick as he thinks he is, considering he went about thirty seconds without trying to nab his precious. Fucking Gollum does better about this stuff bro, learn from him.

“I am to sound it.” Turak’s tone was flat. “And break the White Tower. Again, why? You claim to obey, await, and serve, but this is a land of oath-breakers. Why do you give your land to me? Do you have some private quarrel with these . . . women?”

And again, we see that Fain's schemes immediately crash and burn when given the briefest exposure to people who know what schemes are. He's just like all these nobles in his own twisted way: he's gotten so used to having the Darkfriends jump when he says jump (or die) that he doesn't understand why no one else will willingly be his puppets.

Turak was silent so long that Fain began to wonder if he needed further convincing; he was ready with more, as much as was required.

Pro-tip for those of you who find themselves in situations where you need to lie: less is actually much better than more. We can thus conclude that Fain isn't even good at lying, despite the fact that he's spent his whole career as a liar!

“But, High Lord,” Fain protested, “you must—” He found himself lying on his side, his head ringing. Only when his eyes cleared did he see the man with the pale braid rubbing his knuckles and realize what had happened. “Some words,” the fellow said softly, “are never used to the High Lord.” Fain decided how the man was going to die.

I myself am rooting for neither of these fellows, both so awful in their own right. And note again how the Seanchan veneer of civility disappears at a moment's notice without warning. There's no way a populace can happily adopt the Seanchan customs as a whole, not without rebellion after rebellion breaking out.

He had not even known of the existence of an Empress until Turak mentioned her, but access to a ruler again . . . that opened new paths, new plans. Access to a ruler with the might of the Seanchan beneath her and the Horn of Valere in her hands. Much better than making this Turak a Great King.

It's funny that he thinks this is an option for him, when his best case scenario is that he ends up doing exactly what Semirhage will do and thus completely destroys his advantage and his worst case scenario is that Semirhage shows up and starts experimenting with an absolutely fascinating case study.

If I kept the Horn of Valere, all between myself and the throne would think I meant to be first hereafter, and while the Empress, of course, wishes that we contend with one another so that the strongest and most cunning will follow her, she currently favors her second daughter, and she would not look well on any threat to Tuon.

I'm sure that name won't be relevant later!

“The Empress’s Listeners may be anywhere,” Turak continued. “They may be anyone. Huan was born and raised in the House of Aladon, and his family for eleven generations before him, yet even he could be a Listener.”

Secret police: a surefire sign that your civilization is doing just great for itself and won't collapse under its own bloodlust in fifty years or less.

At the Court of the Nine Moons, in Seandar, one such as you could be given to the Seekers for a shift of your eye, for a misspoken word, for a whim. Are you still eager?

I'm sure that Nine Moons thing won't come up again anytime soon either.

And again we see more evidence that the only reason the Empire is holding itself up is its consistent expansionary policies that consistently deliver it new victims to burn through. If the Empire's borders were ever truly stable it would collapse immediately under the tyranny of Seandar.

A young man, but vile in the Shadow beyond belief, with a lying, devious tongue. In many places he has claimed to be many things, but always the Trollocs come when he is there, High Lord. Always the Trollocs come . . . and kill.

Fain is not even a good Aes Sedai liar, since Caemlyn is still doing just great for itself at the moment, as are a variety of the places he passed on the road to it.

Fain let the grimacing Huan pull him out of the room, hardly even listening to the snarled lecture on what would happen if he ever again failed to leave Lord Turak’s presence when given permission to do so.

Considering that Fain was allegedly giving good information about a coming threat, this seems like another really shitty policy on the part of the Seanchan. The illusion of order that is easily cleared away by chaos.

Sadly, the illusion of time is less easily cleared away and ours is up because the chapter is done. Next time: Steddings!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #thom merrilin #dena #zera #padan fain #turak aladon #huan

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