#these two always live rent-free in my head

[quarterlifekitty]

Moth girl getting into that state with nesting, being tired, her belly hurts and she's just acting off.

König already knows it's the time of the year when she lays eggs. But some time passed, and she still didn't get better. Still didn't come out of the pillow nest.

When he's checking up on her, her belly is round and swollen, but the eggs are not coming out..

König having to help her out. Carefully pressing down on her belly, rubbing her little pussy to stimulate her and trick into finally letting the eggs go.

(I made that up, it lives in my head rent free.)

cw: egg laying stuff, overstim

König’s heart aches when he looks down at you, squirming and sluggish all at once, the distention of your belly obvious. His precious mottechen, so uncomfortable and full.

The only struggle he experienced was internal as he pulled you from your nest of blankets and pillows, your usual pips and chirps replaced exhausted whines.

He’d been warned that this could happen. That sometimes hybrids have trouble expressing, especially if the eggs are unfertilized.

He’d gotten you into bed, your back to his stomach with your legs spread and ankles hooked over his thighs.

One of König’s massive hands is splayed over your abdomen, cupped to create a bit more pressure from his gathered fingertips as he rubs ellipses over you.

Your hands grip weakly at his forearm as he tries to stimulate you. You look up at him with barely formed tears gathering at your waterline from how long and tiring this process has been, keeping you exhausted and restless at once.

“Ich werde es besser machen, liebling, I promise,” he coos, shifting his legs to spread you a little better. It feels… a bit wrong to be touching you this way when you’re not well. Like he’s taking advantage, even though he knows it’s the least invasive way to help you. It doesn’t help that you can definitely feel him hard against your back.

His touches start feather-light on your clit, flicking and rubbing to try to spur your inner muscles into making the necessary contractions. His petting and stroking gets heavier, until your hips are twitching and your eyes clench shut with the strain as you pass the first egg in your clutch.

König lets out a breath he’d had no idea he was holding as the cream colored egg slips onto the towel beneath you. It’s a little bigger than the ones in your last clutch had been, which is probably what caused the issue, if he had to guess. His poor little siedenmotte.

The ones after the first come much easier, thank god. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing your face twisted in pain much more than he already had.

He grinds his teeth, sick with guilt when you thrash against him with what must be the last of your strength— your legs twitching as you try to free yourself from his hold, from the overstimulation. But he has to make sure you’re not holding onto anything, so he keeps you pinned, pressing down on your belly while two of his fingers find a home inside of your sore cunt. He makes you cum, finally, and heaves a sigh of relief when you don’t produce anything more.

Your eggs, which he typically finds laid in an array with almost mathematical precision, sit in a sticky pile on the towel. Not quite as many as usual, but noticeably more girthy, not as uniform either. He hoped it didn’t mean you were sick.

He puts the towel off to the side to be dealt with later, focusing on untangling your legs. He lays with you on his chest, and he starts to hum an old song he remembers from his childhood so you can feel the rumble in his chest. He doesn’t have the deepest voice, but it seems to do well enough for you, relaxing you enough to let your eyes close.

When he feels you’re recovered enough that he feels he can leave you alone to rest, he’ll dig out a flashlight from his dresser to shine through each of your eggs, just like always, just to make sure there’s nothing in them before they’re returned to you.

Hopefully you’d be back to your usual self tomorrow. He isn’t sure how much more of this his heart can take.

[mur-art]

A Calivada Essay in Song Lyrics

Lowkey inspired by @sleepdeprivedsimp234's song lyrics posts I decided to let my instincts win and put together a post full of song lyrics that are Calivada-coded to me. (Since the latest episode got me fully back on my Calivada bullshit. You could say they took a high-speed rail straight into my heart. )

The songs are roughly in order with how I picture the progression of their relationship. It starts with the early days of the Gold and Silver rushes and the Wild West, marked with periods of stormy and reckless whirlwind romance. Then it progresses into the early 20th century, with them growing apart, and yet together: Nevada finding his identity in casinos and sin, and California giving into the hedonism of Hollywood. Somewhere along the line, they became on-and-off again FWB, coming together when they're drunk, or lonely, or hopeless... or all of the above, locked in a frankly toxic and tumultuous co-dependent relationship. Not quite enemies, not quite lovers, definitely not friends... (or so they'll say).

Just... them. Anyway...

A bunch of these have been compiled from suggestions from various people over the past year-ish and some are just my shitty millennial taste in mid-2000s pop rock.

Link to actual playlist here

PART 1: "We're meant to be together like silver and gold"

California and Nevada meet for the first time. There's an immediate attraction to each other-- is it really love or is it simply a lust for the sparkle of silver and gold? Either way, it's a force of nature when they come together.

Silver and Gold- Parade of Lights (Cali's perspective)

Can you let me in if I take you home? / I'm never giving up 'cause I can't let go / I feel it in the air, feel it in my bones / We're meant to be together like silver and gold

Silver Stallion- The Highwaymen (Cali's perspective)

I'm gonna find me a reckless woman / Razor blades and dice in her eyes / Just a touch of sadness in her fingers / Thunder and lightning in her thighs

And we're gonna ride / We're gonna ride / Ride like the one eyed jack of diamonds with the devil close behind / We're gonna ride

Reckless Love- Bleachers (Nevada's perspective)

So give me a chance to remember / What I've given up to defend ya / I would burn my dreams away / Just to stand in the thankless shadows of your reckless love

gold rush- Taylor Swift (Nevada's perspective)

What must it be like / To grow up that beautiful? / With your hair falling into place like dominos / I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors / With my [49ers] t-shirt hanging from the door / At dinner parties / I call you out on your contrarian shit / And the coastal town We wandered 'round had never / Seen a love as pure as it / And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea / 'Cause you know it could never be

Stardust- MIKA (Nevada's perspective)

I could put a little stardust in your eyes / Put a little sunshine in your life / Give me a little hope that you'll feel the same And I wanna know if I'll see you again / See you again Funny how the time is rushing by / And all the little things we leave behind / But even then, in everything I do / Is a little bit of me, a little bit of you / When will I see you again?

Addict- Silva Hound (I think this is from Hazbin Hotel lmao) (Nevada's perspective)

So what if I misbehave? It's what everybody craves / You already know / So come if you're feeling brave / And fancy yourself a mate

You want it, I got it, see what you like? / We could have it all by the end of the night / Your money and power, my sinful delight / A hit of that heaven and hell, a hell of a high

PART 2: "We are brief summer lightning (we are sparks that spiral upwards in the darkness in the night)"

As they spend more time together, their affection for each other grows. They'll deny that they were ever in love, but the history between them doesn't lie.

Wild as You- Cody Johnson (Cali's perspective)

You're like wakin' in the morning by a mountain stream / You're like watchin' an eagle floating on the breeze / And as I listen to you dreaming by my side / I wish I could call you mine

But you belong where the four winds blow / Out where the untamed mustang roam / Like a sweet summer rain passin' through / Never seen anything wild as you

Hymn for the Weekend- Coldplay (Cali's perspective)

Oh, angel sent from up above / You know you make my world light up / When I was down, when I was hurt / You came to lift me up / Life is a drink and love's a drug / Oh, now I think I must be miles up / When I was a river, dried up / You came to rain a flood

Summer Lightning- Garnet Rogers (Nevada's perspective)

We are brief as summer lightning / We are swift as swallow's flight // We are sparks that spiral upward in the darkness in the night / We are frost upon a window / We won't pass this way again / In the end only love remains

Peaceful Easy Feeling- The Eagles (Cali's perspective)

I like the way your sparkling earrings lay against your skin so brown / I wanna sleep with you in the desert tonight / With a billion stars all around

Death Valley Queen- Flogging Molly (Nevada's perspective)

Death valley queen where have you been? / Since they crowned you in glory / Filled your head with dreams / But it still goes to show in every desert / There's a rose that's bloomin' for all to be seen

House of Memories- Panic! At the Disco (Nevada's perspective)

Those thoughts of past lovers, they'll always haunt me / I wish I could believe you'd never wrong me / Then will you remember me in the same way as I remember you?

Baby, we built this house on memories / Take my picture now, shake it 'til you see it / And when your fantasies become your legacy Promise me a place / In your house of memories

Joy Ride- The Killers

(I showed enough restraint to wait until ALL THE WAY DOWN HERE to include a Killers song. Y'all should be proud /s )

It's gettin' close to sundown over the Sierra / Stranded on the heatwave, burnin' with desire / She was on the sidewalk, looking for a nightlife / We talked about the real things and drove into the fire

Headlights on the highway, the desert wind is howlin' / Rattlesnakes and romance are spillin' with the rain / Candy apple red dress, bleedin' when she kissed me / Heaven a ragtop, take away my pain

PART 3: "Just call me angel of the morning, angel..."

The relationship has lost its initial shine and turned tumultuous. Difference in personality emerge and disagreements become common. And yet, they still can't keep their hands off each other... maybe they both like the drama. They are both performers, after all...

The Way it Was- The Killers (Nevada's perspective)

I drove through the desert last night / I carried the weight of our last fight / Elvis singing "don't be cruel" / And I wonder if you feel it too / It's like we're going under

Somewhere outside the lonely Esmeralda county line / The question of my heart came to my mind

If I go on with you by my side / Can it be the way it was when we met? / Did you forget all about those golden nights?

Bend and Break- FM-84 feat. Ollie Wride (Cali's perspective)

Leave your reason at the door / 'Cause the writing's on the wall / The sunshine's gone / Maybe it's too soon to call / But we've both been here before , so I'm waiting on

No our music it ain't done, 'cause I found our revelry / In the highways and the dancehalls that filled our history

Angel of the Morning- Juice Newton (Nevada's perspective)

There'll be no strings to bind your hands / Not if my love can't bind your heart / There's no need to take a stand / For it was I who chose to start / I see no need to take me home / I'm old enough to face the dawn

Just call me angel of the morning, angel / Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby / Just call me angel of the morning, angel / Then slowly turn away from me

Body- Jordan Suaste (1st part- Cali's perspective; 2nd part- Nevada's perspective)

Body, let me see your body / Take off all your makeup and your clothes / Trust me, why don't you just trust me? / You're the only beauty, show me more

You're not a dime a dozen / Oh, your skin is golden / Let me show the whole damn world / You're one in a billion / The only thing you're missin' / Is some tape over that mouth

BABY SAID- Maneskin (Cali's perspective; Nevada is "baby")

Baby said "When you're talking, I go dead" "Shut your mouth, give me your head" (uh-uh-uh-uh) I know you really want to Baby said "Let me taste your silhouette" "You can talk between my legs" (uh-uh-uh-uh) I know you really want to

Faithless- The Airborne Toxic Event (Cali's perspective)

I wake up early my head ain't right / It's the fever dream of what we did last night / I flex my fingers and feel my age / Fifteen minutes till we take the stage / And I call you when I wake up drunk / My arms are cold and my head is sunk / They say the lights go up at ten PM / Just make sure you're okay by then

Neon Medusa- The Midnight (Either one tbh)

It's a highway, highway to the dark / And a neon medusa's got your heart / Sweet canyon lullabies, don't look straight into its eyes

Alone Together- Fall Out Boy (Both)

Cut me off, I lost my track / It's not my fault, I'm a maniac / It's not funny anymore, no it's not / My heart is like a stallion / They love it more when it's broken / Do you wanna feel beautiful, do you wanna? / I'm outside the door, invite me in / So we can go back and play pretend

and also

This is the road to ruin, and we're starting at the end

PART 4: "I only love you when I'm drunk"

Fast-forward to today (well, the past few decades, really), and they're THOSE TWO drama-Filled Frenemies With Benefits (although the benefits are debatable at this point).

Jilted Lovers and Broken Hearts- The Killers (Nevada's perspective)

Why did you roll your dice, show your cards? / Jilted lovers and broken hearts / You're out on the wind and I'm still waiting to be found

Yeah, will I ever win? / Only time will tell / You've gotta suffer to remember how well / That our ideals never really marched in time / That's the bottom line / Jilted lovers and broken hearts

Getting Even- White Lies (Cali's perspective)

If you're getting even, you're getting even / Trying to get even, better start believing / I can forgive and we can forget / Even after all this wrestling of conscience / I can forgive and we can forget / Even after all this love and other nonsense

Love You When I'm Drunk- MIKA (Both)

Don't get me wrong, last night I didn't change my mind / It was the drink, it was leaving me blind / And when I kissed you, it was such a big mistake / A couple drinks, that's the chance that I take

We All Get Lonely- The Wrecks feat. TOMI (Nevada's perspective)

You're so in love with self-destruction / You're bringing me down

Why'd you come over? / Are you sober? / Are you playing around?

You touch me gently / But it's empty / You should figure it out

Don't say, say you love me, need me / Until you've had your fun / Use me when you get lonely / We all get lonely / You're not the only one

FUCK ABOUT IT- Waterparks (Nevada's perspective)

I like you but I need some space / I like you kinda far away / It's not hard to kill a day lookin' at your face / I like you but I need some room / Been givin' me your attitude / It doesn't always stay that way / I hate the aftertaste

Ancient History- Set it Off (Both)

Damn, pick up the phone, I know I'm drunk again / And you, know my intentions 'cause it's two a.m. / It's fun and games until we both get hurt / We play with fire 'cause we like the way it burns / No use in patching up a sinking ship / This is the last time we do this, baby / This is the last time you taste my lips

I know, I know how to drive you wild / You know, you know how to make me smile / But I need you to be / My ancient history

I know, I know who you really are / You know, you know how to break my heart / But I need you to be / My ancient history

Walk Me Home- P!nk (California's perspective-- despite everything that's happened between them, he still goes to Nevada when he's hurt and lonely)

Walk me home in the dead of night / I can't be alone with all that's on my mind / So say you'll stay with me tonight / 'Cause there's so much wrong going on outside

Till It Shines- Bob Seger (Nevada's perspective; reflecting on California's loneliness)

Storm the walls around this prison / Leave the inmates, free the guards / Deal me up another future / From some brand new deck of cards

Take the chip off of my shoulder / Smooth out all the lines / Take me out among the rustling pines / 'Til it shines / Oh 'til it shines

Like an echo down a canyon / Never coming back as clear / Lately I just judge the distance / Not the words I hear

and this part:

See the rich man lost and lonely / Watch him as he dines / Sitting there just testing all the wines / 'Til it shines

AND OF COURSE...

Waking Up in Vegas- Katy Perry

I think this one speaks for itself, BUT...

Spare me your freakin' dirty looks / Now don't blame me / You want to cash out / And get the hell outta town / Don't be a baby / Remember what you told me

Shut up and put your money where your mouth is / That's what you get for waking up in Vegas / Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now / That's what you get for waking up in Vegas

[fatedroses]

Two former military elites taking merc jobs perform absolutely hellish battle tactics together.

[forcebook]

Yes, thank you, Theo. Akk couldn’t have done this without you!

[moonfil]

(based of @/tulipsempai's thing with Jeremy anon)

[add1ctedt0you]

From this:

The most laughable one was the YunmengJiang Sect, the people of which either had been killed or had scattered, leaving only Jiang Cheng, who was younger than even Lan XiChen and was still a child born yesterday, who had nobody in his hands but still dared call himself sect leader, holding up the banner of rebellion as he recruited new disciples.

To this:

No matter which clan you chose to offend, you shouldn't offend the Jiang clan. No matter which person you chose to offend, you shouldn't offend Jiang Cheng

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #27 - An Aria For Pigs

[Downfall Timeline, Death, Grief, Mild Description of a Dead Body, Mild Body Horror]

The Hero of Time is nowhere to be found. The princess of a doomed kingdom takes matters into her own hands. As always, Impa follows right behind.

----

You can read it on Archive of Our Own Here!

I haven't beta'ed it, it's kind of weird and very Unhallowed Vespers' related, but it's also some weird Impa and Ganondorf and it's also spooky and also Impa almost says fuck. :>

----

It is unknown when or how, or even if, the Hero of Time had died.

Most people left in Hyrule still believe in heroes. They trust that a mythical figure will rise from the ashes of a golden age long since consumed, and put an end to their common misery. They are hylians after all —unused to the idea of coping with despair, its prolonged chafing. Impa can hardly blame them for it. But she knows.

She has known for a long time.

The princess had fidgeted with the idea herself, independently, but had refused to accept it for as long as she could. Denial curdled into obvious delusion until it suffocated her. Impa chose to keep her mouth shut and let her process this on her own terms. The absence of light may be Impa’s domain, but Zelda still clings to its presence, seeking it sometimes beyond reason. At seventeen, Zelda no longer identifies as a princess —princess of what? Her kingdom had been stolen, her lands scorched and torn into crude, uneven parts— and now she hid in dusty clothes Impa pulled from secret crevices near Kakariko. Bandages, daggers and bones. Zelda is now known as Sheik. Why the hell not. They had picked the name together; a title rather than a name, not that anyone still alive would know but Impa. And yet, despite that process of reshaping her identity for protection and safekeeping, the poor girl still knows to embrace her divine role within the fate of the world. So does Impa. This is what she tells the girl, in great detail: everything known about the course of time, godliness, destiny. The rules of the holy land they were born to preserve.

Perhaps this is what had convinced the princess to take the matter into her own blessed hand.

Impa arrives alone at the empty castle. Ganondorf the usurper had destroyed the old one. White stone turned to black, vulgar work. Charred oxygen and the rancidness of unearthed magma; and yet the halls are so cold.

Places Impa used to know were mangled. She had haunted these halls long before they’d been dead; and she expected some measure of longing, some heartache for the perfect gardens of green, for the flowers in bloom and the careless laughter of a content crowd. But the old thing had been obliterated. There is nothing to recognize. As always, its new master cares for dominance and symbols in a way that never once proved anything.

Impa walks through the new meaningless construction at a steady pace. Ignored by monsters, of course. Not only is she quiet, but hardly ever recognized as something worth killing. Fairies ignore her wounds just the same. She walks one step removed from reality. Shadows draping her, always.

As she rises towards the central tower through endless stairways, Impa notices the press of something against the inside of her throat.

She enters a cavernous room, cathedral-like, bathed in sickening sunset-light, and sees her.

Impa walks to the bundle of cloth, slowly. Kneels. She traces the exposed throat. Cold.

Dead.

Zelda had been dead for hours.

Impa takes it in. The off-colored, wax-like sheen of a perfect skin. Blue eyes, pale and glossy. Blonde hair, tangled in a way she thinks needs brushing. Half-open mouth. She had seen so many bodies before, just like this, or worse. Somehow, Impa had never really prepared herself to welcome this one into her memories; even though she had spent so much, so much, so much of her existence shielding the girl’s fragile life from harm. Cupping candlelight between burning fingers. But it is over now. A sheikah knife lays next to the princess, and arrows, and a bow, and Impa doubts the fight, if there had ever been any, had lasted more than a minute.

She breathes in, and out, and closes the girl’s eyes with her thumbs, rolling loose fabric under her chin to keep her lips mended together, soft and asleep. Impa tries to look inward, with idle curiosity. She finds space between her ribs, a newfound clarity to the oxygen she breathes. She presses small hands together across her chest, across the single eye of her people, and thinks: after everything, the sheikahs and Hyrule died together as one.

Everything she ever upheld as meaningful, now tepid on the lush crimson carpet. Belief, mistakes, restraint, self-abandon. Love. Gone. It is over. It is over, and yet Impa cannot process it as defeat. Not her defeat —even though she had categorically failed at everything of import ever devised for her by fate.

The girl’s right hand no longer glows.

A guttural sound echoes from the depths of the large room, where pillars overcast the surreal gleam in strange moving shadows. Something large and grotesque. A thrill, on the edge between a demonic hiss, a human voice, and something far worse than both.

Impa lets go of the girl and stands. She breathes unburdened. No tension left in her besides the simple mechanics of motion. Taking the blade out of its sheath has nothing to do with self preservation. At most, it feels like a social cue, expected from her by a crowd she can’t see and didn’t really care for.

She walks towards the moving shadows. A quiet pace. No need to rush. Anything about to happen now is but an epilogue.

The darkness itself seems to pulse. Large shapes overlapping, the smell like untouched depths of a cave beyond cracks in the floor, fizzling char, nearly suffocating her. Something gags with labored breathing. A man. A thing . Impa focuses, invoking her perception of truth among the pit of organic tar.

A shape. Human.

Ganondorf, or rather the imprint of him, has one knee to the floor, much like the first time they spoke to each other seven years ago. His face is hidden behind bloodied hands, long hair. Light shudders underneath his fingers: a map of his veins and bones backlit with divine fire. The limits of his flesh aren’t clear anymore. His body blurs, swept away and redefined amid the moving darkness.

“So you won,” Impa says.

A hiccup, hidden behind shaky hands.

“You should have known,” replies a voice, booming and strained and breathless, surrounding her yet pinned to a singular, fragile point. “Y-y-you should have guessed I had. Reclaimed. Courage already.”

The silhouette heaves, each word like a stab wound to himself. The fingers slip; Impa sees the eyes then, the nostrils and mouth, the fine lines embedded in his dark skin.

All of them burning from within.

“W-w-what does it. Feel like.” He groans, trying to look at Impa directly; but there is so much push-and-pull of darkness, pure light, and skin that focusing on the person behind is near impossible. “To know. To know you bowed to your masters. For this.” He tries to laugh, but the voice is too broken, his effort too blinding. “Hyrule. Is. Nothing now. I am…” He gasps. His defiance almost sounds like despair. “I am all that is left.”

A shadow on the walls behind him takes a strange form; hulking, something with claws and tusks and a gaping maw. But the shadow refuses to stay put, refuses to commit yet. The old Hyrule might be dead, but it has yet to be replaced by anything new.

“You still haven’t made your wish,” Impa notes.

Blackened nails ram their points into the flood of light threatening to bubble out of his flesh. “The Triforce is mine ,” he spits out, and Impa watches on as the sad spectacle of Ganondorf’s victory leads her to the only possible conclusion she can draw.

“You’re holding the pieces together by force.” Her breath constricts, half-stuck inside her throat. “The Triforce still wants away from you.”

Ganondorf writhes, his body lined in boiling gold. The cracks of a vase about to shatter. And yet, and yet…

With a groan, the gerudo’s face shifts back together, looking somewhat human through all the searing glow. Enough for Impa to recognize a bloodshot eye. Pupil blown wide.

“I can do it,” he rasps, fractured. “I will make the gods. Obey me.”

Impa can’t help the cruel smile carved across her skin.

“The Goddesses are long gone,” she says. “No one can make them do anything.” Impa watches him struggle some more, grasping for focus to remain enough of a body to reply, or react. A shape lost in a storm of his own making. She cocks her head to the side, curious. “You’re not drawing out the full strength of the Power you secured. Why is that?”

He hurls forward with a spasm —already bestial, already a monster. “I won’t. Debase myself. For their entertainment.” He tries to stand. Fails. “Or for yours.”

“Debasing yourself,” Impa repeats, ears ringing. “You killed a child today.”

She catches the glint of a mean grin among the sizzling chaos. Impa imagines reaching for the usurper, no matter the pain; coiling both hands through the man’s fiery scalp, and pulling the skull apart. The weakened flesh would cede to any kind of pressure. She could do this, and he wouldn’t be capable of stopping her.

But she doesn’t need to do this. All she has to do is watch this man torture himself, and pretend this feels like vindication.

“This is my victory,” Ganondorf grunts, squirming inside his rupturing skin. “It’s mine . I-I-I need to rule, as myself. I won’t let them…”

“You don’t want godhood to change you,” Impa concludes. A horrible cough-like laughter shoots out of her throat. She has not laughed like this in over a decade. “Do you even hear yourself? The gods hate you. Everything sacred hates you. Hyrule will never stop resisting your claim. The Triforce will fight you like one fights a disease. Whatever you think you are… They’ve already scraped it clean off. You’re clinging to a corpse.”

He makes a sound, that he must have hoped dismissive instead of agonizing. “I c-can’t. I can’t let them overwrite me.”

“Then stop trying to assemble the Triforce inside your body.”

“No. ”

He had barked this at her, like a child. A pang knocks behind Impa’s armor. She can’t name its cause; if it is simply anger, or a different kind of urge to scream.

“I c-c-can’t let the pieces back out,” He chokes, holding each side of his blinding face. Brute force against cosmic chaos. Somehow , he is still winning. “If I do… If I do...”

“You will be shattered,” Impa says, flatly. “Maybe you should die, then, if you can’t handle it. You should let it kill you.”

He looks at her, his smarting expression almost taken aback. The blade between her teeth had slashed thoughtlessly; the vicious evidence in her words pouring out of her like a fetid sigh, held back for far too long. There are no consequences for her cruelty anymore. She no longer has to pretend she was ever more than a body groomed to inflict pain. Light had been blotted out. And shadows always were her domain.

She allows the blade to drop; slipping from her open fingers and clanging against the muffled floor. One step. Two steps. His gaze fixates on her as she makes her way to the abomination; the warlord who had killed the only girl she had ever loved; the man who had set the ruins of her life on fire, cleansing all that remained until nothing was left . She stands tall, and he crawls.

Impa had never felt more free.

She drives her fingers through his hair —static jolts of fire and thunder and raw pain, and Impa welcomes each sensation with abandon. She yanks him closer to her; he doesn’t yelp, reaches for her wrist when she kneels besides him. His grip, for all its godlike power, is weak, unfocused, completely lost. He fights her as much as he clings to the concreteness of her body. His patheticness, not her grief, is what makes Impa want to cry.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” she murmurs through her teeth, so close to his deformed pointy ear she could bite off the excess if she wanted to. “Then do it. Go on. Become a god. Rewrite the world. Who cares what you make of it. Who cares what you once wished this would mean to you. Go on. Rip yourself apart, my lord.” He makes a choking sound, an echo of the grief she doesn't feel. He burns so bright against her. Impa stares ahead, right at the wall, at the sunset far behind, as each of her fingers sizzles and chars and fuses with him. “Do it,” she says, as her lungs threaten to collapse. “Do it, you coward, do it. ” Ganondorf’s essence shakes and sputters besides her. She can’t feel her arm anymore as he curls, as tension rises, as something wild and manic wrenches out from her accursed throat. “DO IT.”

Golden light erupts beside her in a shriek. Tears of relief boil right through her waterline.

She doesn’t close her eyes as Ganondorf implodes, blinding her.

Blinding everything.

At last, the Shape arises.

The golden light is weakened now, after the flash. Not mended together, but contained under endless blackened fur. A maw unhinges. More darkness than flesh. Timeless eyes open for the first time, pale and emptied and quieter. The walls of the castle are blown open to a darkened sky. Inky. Alive.

Ashes coat everything.

The Shape looks down at itself. Bones cling to its arm, tangled there, bleached clean off.

With terrible claws, the Shape plucks the skull off its dark fibrils. It is so small inside the palm of its hand. Boar-like eyes, fueled by divine violence and impossible dreams, stare mindlessly at the empty sockets.

The wind howls behind them both.

[achillesleftheel]

[haphazard-pen]

[purgatorygrl]

It doesn't happen to you that you are so calm in your day doing things and suddenly your brain simply "ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores, porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo los corazones" 🩷

[back-at-it-again-bish]

Want another Ineffable husbands' moment that I think fits Vikdecai incredibly well? Of course you do <3 so um

Once we all dried our tears, you can't convince me that they did not say something like this during the fight before the kneecapping.

After interminable minutes of just screaming and cursing, silence fell on the room, and they stayed panting and staring at each other in anger while trying to keep tears from falling from their eyes

"You can't leave Lackadaisy, you can't!" (you can't leave me, not after everything we went through, not after what we've built)

"...Oh Viktor, nothing lasts forever"

Viktor is the physical representation of betrayal; and so the screaming starts again, ending with a gunshot.

[1000dactyls]

I second the appreciation of keeping tgirl Hiccup’s name the same! Hiccup is a perfectly gender neutral name imho 😤 in my own fic poor Hiccup and his sister Hiccup literally have to share the same name cuz their parents and the Naming Dame have no originality when it comes to naming preemies on Berk lmaooo

I suppose it could be worse…I mentioned to a fellow writer that other “runt” names could be something traumatic like Inconsequential or Trifling or Twerplout or Leftovers 😭

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS hiccup is a gender neutral name truthers UNITE. it's a perfectly good name (though me and a friend have spent some time debating about the logistics of changing your name on berk that hiccup could hypothetically face, if it wasn't the name hiccup was born with)

YOUR FIC ITS SO GOOD!!! the double hiccup haddock horrendous the third trouble is absolutely hysterical to me. i love the different nicknames that stem from such, too... because no way would gobber holler hiccup the elder's full name across the forge. although, i suppose there would be something veryyyyy intimidating at getting your full name AND your birth order called out when you're in trouble...

oh noooooooooooooo 😭😭😭😭😭 am i an awful person for absolutely cackling at these names??????? (then again, both history and i have come up with worse names, sooooooooo....)

[fatedroses]

Reaper's Bounty.

[greatestmeepboie]

!!!!!!KENJI NODA HEADCANON TIME!!!!!!

He likes to draw scenery and sometimes brings his sketchpad onto the boat

He also likes showing his art to Akitsu and Mizushima. To varying results

Also please if anyone can elaborate on what Akitsu and Noda are I would greatly much appreciate it because I need confirmation

Like what. What is this. WHAT IS THIS

[a-legacy-not-to-be-forgotten]

An observation I made about Asgore and Ceroba

Mainly, I looked at my two favorite Undertale characters (Asgore from the OG, Ceroba from Yellow) and I came to the conclusion that I definitely have a type.

I mean, Asgore and Ceroba both:

Wield big sticks in combat

Use Orange and Blue attacks

Are furries

Are probably Bisexual

Separated from their respective partners and children, leaving them sad and alone.

Are willing to do anything for the sake of Monsterkind, albeit in different ways

End up horribly mischaracterized by the fandom (particularly Reddit)

Yeah, I definitely have a type when it comes to favorite characters. Especially ones I crush on and pair myself up with

[scamperin-shroom]

Final Moments

You won but at what cost 😔

I love recreating scenes from my AU like it's an official comic