#warrior reader

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDS React to a War General Reader

AN: Take a guess, I am reading Brandon Sanderson. I fucking love Dalinar and Kaladin. I would die for them. Alas I must write this. This is also why I have been writing so little.

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader

Ingredients: 100% pangst (pining x angst- my fav combo)

My Fav: Xavier because of course he would fall in love with someone older.

Xavier:

He is barely of age when he first sees you.

The war banners rise above the parade ground, crimson and silver, the kingdom’s crest stitched in gold thread , all symbols he has known since birth. But none of them matter.

Not when you're standing beside his mother, head held high, armor gleaming in the fading light. You are a warrior of her clan. A general. Her most trusted blade.

Your hair is braided back in soldier’s fashion, but a few strands have escaped, clinging to your cheek. You don't brush them away. Your hands rest calmly on the hilt of your sword. Not possessive. Just ready.

And then he sees it, the scar just below your right eye. Faint, half-faded, nearly lost among the curve of your smile.

Something fractures in him.

His chest tightens. His breath catches. The war drums beat in the courtyard, but he can only hear the thunder in his own blood.

Anxiety. Awe. Something darker. Something deeper. A sense of longing he doesn’t know how to name yet. He shouldn’t feel this. Not for someone like you.

But he does.

He watches you from afar for months. In training yards. In strategy halls. Once, in the rain, when you carried a wounded squire and scolded him with a laugh in your voice.

Each time, he falls harder. Softer.

He prays for battles just so he can see you ride out. He studies maps not for war, but for the chance to be stationed at your side.

Because you are the sword of the kingdom.

And he, he is just a boy in love with a flame that does not burn for him.

Yet

Rafayel:

The court sings of you. You, the general with sun-threaded hair and dimples that damned worlds.

Rafayel watches from the edge of the throne room, wine untouched in his glass, jaw set tight. He watches another group of nobles stumble over themselves just to get near you, and of course, you smile. Of course, you lift a fainting young lord into your arms and laugh like it’s all a game.

And the court laughs with you. Because you are beautiful, and beloved, and so damnably kind.

He mutters under his breath, "For a warrior, you smile too damn much."

But he watches. Always.

He watches the way your blade moves fast, clean, elegant. He watches the way you speak to soldiers by name. The way you remember their children, their injuries, their fears.

He watches you stand beside the Lemurian crown and never bow too low. You are not theirs. You’re not anyone’s.

Not even his.

But gods, he wants you.

In the darkest part of the sea, where even the sirens do not sing, you are his sun. The only warmth he ever knew.

And it infuriates him , that the court gets to see you laugh, to bask in his sun.

He dreams of you. Of you loving only him.

And if that makes him selfish, so be it.

He’s already drowned for less.

Zayne:

You are not a soldier. You are not a general. You are something older. Something worse. Something eminent.

Zayne hears the earth shudder before the gate even opens. The stars above Astra dim as if to brace themselves. Then your laugh. Low, raspy, hungry, one that has been silenced for way too long.

He doesn't need to look to know it’s you. The one they warned him about. The one he was supposed to kill.

You do not walk. You arrive. Sword dragging, blood-slick, eyes sharp with some storm even the gods couldn’t name.

And still, he stands between you and Astra.

Not because he believes in the fate. Not because he believes in the god who owns his bones. But because he needs to see it. Needs to see if the stories are true. Needs to see if a god can truly be undone. To see if his wretched fate with you could ever be laid to rest.

You raise your weapon. You smile. You say nothing.

And Zayne, traitor, guardian, prophet, fool, finds himself shaking.

Because you are not fate. You are its end.

And he, broken thing that he is, loves you for it.

He does not beg you to stop. He looks forward to the end that brings him to you. Away from the world.

Sylus:

The general kneels in front of the wounded, sleeves rolled to the elbow, armor long discarded. Your hands are stained with the blood of soldiers no one will remember. Your voice is hoarse from barking orders and whispering comfort in the same breath.

He watches from behind the war tents. A dragon in name, in form, but not yet in freedom. Still bound. Still collared. Still owned.

He is no stranger to cruelty. He has seen the whip. Felt the fire brands burn across his scales. Heard his name used as a command, not a right.

But you, you speak differently.

You sit with the dying. Share your meals with the stable hands. Offer your water to those who carry the tents for the war camp.

For the first time since his capture, since the collar was tightened around his throat, he feels a human hand touch his snout without fear, without dominance just gentleness.

“Be free,” you whisper. The lock on his chain rusts, and then crumbles beneath your fingers. “Beyond the mountains,” you say, voice soft in the old tongue. “Where no one can name you but yourself. Where the skies are bright and the land men have yet to walk on.”

And then, just like that, you let him go.

You didn’t just free a beast. You gave him a name. And that name, Sylus, he has carried it through lifetimes, meant only for you to utter.

Caleb:

He watches the light bleed from your eyes. Not all at once, slowly, like a sun setting behind smoke. Like a lantern flickering through ash.

You’ve both fought too long. Too hard. You’ve won battles that should’ve broken you. Celebrated victories with laughter that always came just a second too late.

He’s your advisor. The arrow in your quiver. The plan beneath your fury.

But this time… this time, something has shattered.

The battlefield is still. The wind has no songs left to carry. Your helmet slips from your hands and rolls to a stop among the corpses.

And you...you fold.

Not dramatically. Not with rage. You just… bend. Under the weight of what you’ve done. Under the weight of what you are.

Caleb rushes to you. Drops to his knees before your crumpled form, hands trembling, reaching. “We fought for our people,” he breathes, brushing dirt from your cheek. “For our king. For our home. For—”

Your eyes don’t meet his. “It was for nothing,” you say.

Your armor is cold against his chest. Your tears are hot against his fingers. He tries again. “You protected so many. You gave them hope.”

But you shake your head, slow and dazed. “So much blood,” you whisper. “For nothing.”

And he knows then, this isn’t about the war. It’s about you. About what you lost to become the kind of weapon kingdoms needed.

He holds you tighter. Like maybe if he anchors you, you won’t slip away completely.

He is so cold. And so afraid. Because if you can fall, what else is worth saving?

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

so i heard you plan to write for hollow knight, welcome to the hivemind, my friend, i give out free cookies to each new member. 🍪🍪🍪

i was wondering if you could write for hornet x a tarantula hawk wasp reader, who tends to be mute warrior most of the time, but speaks to tell hornet that they love her?

regardless of your answer, thank you for your time.

Thank you! Glad to be part of the hivemind haha

..........

It seemed so long ago when you first clashed needles with Hornet. Like a distant memory.

You've come to Hallownest in search of challenges and triumphs.

Hailing from a wasp tribe who's been at war with tarantulas for many years, size didn't matter. You've fought opponents twice, or even thrice your physique, living by the mantra "the bigger they are, the harder they fall".

When confronting giants such as the Moss Chargers of Greenpath, you were eager to trim away their disguises and discover the cowardly little squibs they truly were, striking them down before they could retreat underground.

Unbeknownst to you, Hornet would spy on you from time to time, studying your fighting tactics as close as she could without being spotted. She observed your epic battle with the Massive Moss Charger, watching you slay the beast like it was nothing.

Were you a threat? Surely, you must be. Why else would you come down to Hallownest so willingly with a needle wrapped in tarantula bristles? And a fang strapped to your back as a momentum of your deeds? What was your purpose here? Were you truly ready to confront and accept the horrors that lied deep within this desolate kingdom?

The only way she could know for sure was by engaging you in a fight, and very quickly she realizes how strong you were, using your wings as an advantage. She tried to ground you, but to no avail. It's almost like you could predict her every movement.

Just when you could have easily killed her, needle at her throat, she's fortunate enough to learn you were bound by honor, sparing her life. Then you simply bow your head before leaping away to who-knows-where.

She swears she heard your quiet giggling as you ascended the canopy, as though you saw that duel as a game.

But that day, Hornet learns you're just like her. Trying to survive in these ruins, unafflicted by the infection. You weren't a threat.

At some point, she found herself crossing paths with you again and again. Almost like clockwork. Soon the surprise duels turn into casual sparring matches, and when either of you needed rest, the benches and swims in the soul springs evoked discussions about the Knight, the temple, the Dreamers...and whatever else came to mind.

But they were mainly one-sided, with her doing most of the talking--while you chime in with the occasional hum, grunt, wingbeat, or gesture. Anything that kept the conversation going.

She opens up to you more than she's willing to admit, and as time goes on she starts to see you as a friend. An ally who's got her back.

You like charging into battle, while her nimble and agile-self allows her to be nearly untouched. So when you return from fighting the Mantis Lords, you try sharing your triumph in earning their respect through expressive storytelling...but Hornet knows you're hurting and lightly scolds you when you hiss in pain thereafter, tending to your wounds.

Eventually, your friendship/alliance becomes something more. A feeling of deep connectedness buzzing in your souls. But so far both of you have mistaken that for overprotectiveness, a bond forged through your warrior code.

You're unsure if it would be anything more than that...until the night you both went into Deepnest, with her trusting you enough to show Herrah's current resting place--only for a Nosk to lead you straight into its lair, using her as a facade.

You find it odd she wasn't talking, but you only assumed that because the subject of her mother was a rather sensitive one.....but after seeing the webbed-up husks, you knew you had been tricked and draw your needle.

When the Nosk realizes you could see through their guise, a horrible shriek fills the air as grotesque wings sprout from its back, allowing it to take flight.

But you could fly, too, and you cut it down in one swing, permanently grounding the beast before driving your weapon through it's infected heart, taking cover as it screamed and bled orange acid. Once again, you've exposed a "mighty" and "deadly" creature for the pathetic wriggling thing it really was.

After it explodes, all that remains is the cracked shell of Hornet that rolls to a stop at your feet, but you smash it to pieces.

The real Hornet calls for you from afar, and you turn to see her rushing into the lair, looking panicked as she holds your prized fang in her hands.

It must've fell when the Nosk led you astray, and after hearing the explosion, she feared that you got caught in it and....and.....

Yet when she realizes you're hurt, but alive, all formalities go out the window as she shakily sets the fang down, lunging to hug you tightly.

You're in shock at her actions, and before you can properly react, she suddenly backs off, coughing nervously. "Ah..s-sorry. I..don't know what came over me." She huffs, collecting herself. "When I say "trust no one except yourself", I meant it. Now come on. It's this way-"

However, when she turns around, you take her hand into yours unexpectedly, and she looks back at you in bewilderment. She didn't let go despite her confusion.

"[Y/n]? What are you...?"

Then you gently bump masks with her, and before she can question you further, a small whisper leaves your mouth.

A simple and quiet profession that carried a great weight and a great risk (but you knew that, as you've been a risk-taker all your life).

"Hornet, I....love you."

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Congratulations

Thor Odinson x Guardian!Reader

Y/N has been Thor Odinson's guardian since birth, the highest of the Valkyries, sworn to protect the Prince with her life. what happens when she returns, thought to be dead for the past thousand years?

Fem!Reader

a/n: the villain i chose for this is actually from BBC's Merlin, go cry about it. also this isn't a romance i've just had the idea in my head for a good long while now. I also have REALLY inconsistent start of sentence capitalization.

my computer's a dick and wouldn't load any GIFs so I couldn't put one 😍

"we are gathered here, on the 1000th anniversary of the death of the mighty warrior, Y/n, to honor her and her legacy," Odin started. the same speech he gave every year. "she gave her life protecting the Crown Prince Thor."

"hold on," a strangely familiar voice emerged from the crowd. "last time I checked, I'm still alive."

~~~

the Lady Morgana was a fierce foe, and one of the greatest threats to the prince you've faced yet. making it your duty to stop her, by whatever means become necessary. she was a powerful sorceress, but so were you. and you wouldn't back down without a fight.

but you didn't get a chance.

her eyes flashed gold and you were knocked onto the soft grass.

and then you couldn't move,

couldn't speak,

but you could look around.

you could hear.

which remained your fate for the next thousand years.

until suddenly, you could move again. you could breathe, and you could talk.

after a thousand years.

you had watched as an entire village was built around you, and every spring they sacrificed a dove in your honor. who wants to bet it was the angel wings?

but one year, mere seconds after they plunged the knife into the heart of the dove, you were freed.

thank the gods Heimdall could still see you, or else you would have never made your way back.

back home.

~~~

all eyes were on you.

"Lady Y/n?" Odin's familiar voice filled your ears. he had clearly aged some. "you were thought to be dead. even Heimdall could not see you."

"I suppose I was dead. in a way." you breathed in before you continued. "The Lady Morgana turned me to stone. where is she? is she still alive?"

"the Lady Morgana is dead. she was killed shortly after your disappearance by a Midgardian sorcerer."

"Emrys. . ." you said under your breath. "where is Prince Thor?"

"he is safe, which I believe is only because of you," Queen Frigga spoke up. "would you like to see him?" "I would," you said with a smile.

~~~

"mother, you wished to see me?" said a deep voice as a man entered the room. surely, this could not be Thor? last you had seen him he was only five hundred years old. a child. he had grown handsome. he had golden blonde hair that fell just below his shoulders, his jawline gave the appearance of one cut by the ax you've wielded the entirety of your warriorhood. his blue eyes, though the same ones you had seen all those centuries ago, looked different. they were older. he had seen and learned far more than when you saw him last. his armor fit him perfectly, it was clearly made for his own form. he appeared strong now, and in his right hand he carried the same hammer he had since childhood. Mjolnir.

"Thor, you. . . you look so different." what a stupid thing to say. of course he did! it's been a thousand years! you shouldn't be surprised that he's changed, but what would he think of you now? would he even remember you? would he believe it was you?

"Mother, who is-" he cut himself off. "Lady y/n?" his voice could only be described as bewildered.

"it's me," you stepped closer to him, wanting to see him better.

"that's impossible. you died a thousand years ago."

Queen Frigga spoke up. "She didn't. she was turned to stone by a sorceress."

"And I was conscious for all of it," you added. "a village was built around me. they sacrificed doves to me every year. they probably thought I was some sort of goddess. how ironic is that?"

he gave a soft smile. "Does Loki know you've returned?"

"No, and I'm sure he'd prefer it that way," you said.

Prince Loki never liked you. you were sworn to protect his brother, while he was to be left in the dust. you didn't do it because Thor was your favorite, or anything, you had merely sworn to protect the crown prince. though while over time, you had grown a closer bond with Thor than you had with Loki, that was only because you spent all your time with Thor. with Loki, well, it was his choice how much time he spent around you. though you had prayed that he had overcome his childish grudge.

"though he will find out, sooner or later," the Queen said. "unless you try to hide."

"If he's the same Loki I knew back then, he'll find out all by himself, even if I do."

"somehow, I believe Loki has become even more Loki-like since then. It's like there's more Loki per Loki," said Thor.

"I doubt I'll ever understand you, brother," a new, unfamiliar voice said. looking past Thor to the grand double doors of the throne room, you saw another man, striding to stand beside Thor.

Loki too, had changed. his hair was dark, darker than any others you'd seen, and it was long. though not quite as long as Thor's. his eyes were green and were in a glare, with help from his low resting eyebrows. he was skinnier than Thor as he always has been, likely still relying on his magic rather than combat skills.

"Prince Loki. how have you been?" you needed no introductions. he knew who you were.

"progressively worse and worse, thanks. I suppose it's been the same for you?" he responded, his natural sarcasm still evident in his tone, even after so long.

"until it got better."

"I never thought I would see you again. what happened?" said the Prince. his tone didn't say it, but you could tell he was genuinely curious.

"Well," you breathed before retelling the story. "We had deemed the Lady Morgana a threat, both to your brother's safety, and also to the whole of Asgard. so, I went to Midgard to stop her before that happened. but it turned out that she was an even stronger sorceress than I had initially thought, and she was able to cast a spell on me, turning me into stone. I could still hear and see my surrounds, but I couldn't move. some Midgardian townspeople found me and built a village around me. they sacrificed birds to me every year, that's the only way I had of knowing how long it had been. but the day it hit the thousand-year mark, the spell broke, and I was free. I called Heimdall and he answered, and now I'm back!"

"What an amazing tale. such a good thing she's dead, oh the havoc she'd have wrought on Asgard," said the younger Prince, still with that damn sarcasm. did he want Asgard to fall?

Thor spoke up, saying, "and I can only guess you'd side with her." a high level of harshness filled his tone. what happened to the two? sure, they never got along well as children, but they never hated each other. is that what was happening here? perhaps. but maybe you could help sort it out.

~~~

but you didn't.

you never got the chance

he came too soon.

the Guardians too late.

you watched as Thanos killed half of your people, then Loki and Heimdall. both tried to achieve something, one trying to kill the titan, the other trying to send someone to Earth. but only one succeeded. then Thanos and his army of freaks left.

then you met people. the Guardians of the Galaxy, they called themselves.

then all but a damn raccoon died.

you got everything back, just to lose it all again a few years later.

but you had fulfilled your duty.

the crown prince, now king, was still alive.

congratulations.

[quarterlifekitty]

Cw: cum eating lol

Goddess!Reader as a forgotten deity— a small temple hidden in a cave, completely overgrown with vines and moss. The marble of the flooring is cracked and split with the dripping water and the roots of the overgrowth. There is a statue of you— life sized, not grand or impressive. The skylight of the cave bathes it in sun and moonlight as the days go by.

Warrior!König who finds your little shrine and is enchanted. He has always felt like an outsider— that he has never belonged, and never looked at with familiarity. Maybe it’s his loneliness getting to him, but he feels warmth in the gaze of the statue. You’re a beautiful figure. Despite the state of the place, he feels at home. He doesn’t have much— but he clears some vines and dust off of the offering altar and leaves a fig and a handful of oats.

In his next battle, he finds some uncanny things happening around him. He’ll be dueling an enemy, when a stray beam of light will move in just the right way to blind him for a moment, allowing König to land the killing blow. He’s about to be struck from behind with his assailant’s sword catches in the scabbard for just a moment— long enough for König to turn and fend him off. Could this be his offering at work?

He comes back. This time with an orange, and a gold piece. He gives himself a few moments to admire your form— your breasts perfect, your smile gentle and content. He uses his sword to clear a bit more debris— enough to leave you more clearly visible.

He continues to excel. Not through any supernatural strength, but due to these small strokes of luck finding him at the perfect moment. His sword striking at just the right angle to land in the chip of his enemy’s weapon, cracking it in the fault and rendering it useless. One of his arrows manages to pierce through one target and into another.

He becomes your single worshipper— and the most devoted. He brings fruits, coin, fresh cloth, milk…. And his visits become longer. He lets his hands linger when he touches the cool marble of your statue. He’s taken in a moment of weakness— infatuated with the one figure that seems to care for him— and he touches himself to your image, spilling his seed across your altar— against the red grapes he’d brought for you.

König falls asleep looking at your form. There is no plaque nor writing in your temple— he doesn’t even know your name. When he wakes, the pedestal holding your statue is empty, but he feels a warmth curled into his side, looking down to see you finishing the last of a stem of grapes.

[yanderedrabbles]

I'm thinking about a huge ex-warrior of a yandere. Big and bulky and all too familiar with bloodshed. You'd think years in the king's army would have hardened him, made him callous and cruel. But that's not true at all.

An ex-warrior yandere who cares so much about preserving life because he knows exactly how fragile and easy it is to take. A huge, scarred, mountain of a man who gets soaked to the waist in the dead of winter to save a drowning kitten. Who holds the shivering, mewling, runt of the litter in his hands with a gentleness you've seldom seen.

An ex-warrior yandere who doesn't even eat meat anymore. Who doesn't accept work slaughtering and butchering pigs when the holiday season comes around, even though folk offer him good money for his strength.

A good man, despite it all. Too good for you.

War is a terrible thing and you end up a prisoner almost entirely on accident. Said to be a spy though you're nothing more than an unlucky commoner who angered the wrong people.

He ends up a prisoner too, hauled off the battlefield when he's too injured to put up a fight. Just another prisoner of war, a dime a dozen. He's thrown into the duke's lockup and forgotten.

Whatever fate had in mind, you end up in the same dungeon. Cells next to each other, with nothing to do but tell stories and shiver.

It's miserable there. The gaolers are cruel for the sake of it. The meals are scant, the drinking water not much better. It's the sort of place where dying is considered the lucky option. And maybe you'd have given in, the both of you. Just closed your eyes and let your bodies waste away.

But unlike so many others, you have each other.

You can't see him and he can't see you. All either of you have is a voice in the dark. And somehow, that's enough.

Maybe you manage to escape together or maybe the Duke is defeated and his prisoners liberated. Whatever the case, he's right by your side when you step into the sun again.

How many years has it been? When was the last time you saw the sky?

You were sweet once. Kind, gentle. But years in the lord's prison have changed you. You're sharp and prickly now, slow to trust and even slower to forgive.

An ex-warrior yandere who sees the hurt under all your layers of indifference. Who decides right then and there, that first moment in the sun, that his one goal in life is to keep you safe.

An ex-warrior yandere who says he'll be your guard until you reach your destination, wherever it may be. You're weak, you're unfamiliar with the changes in the world. Anyone can come along and take advantage of you.

An ex-warrior yandere who follows you with a sort of quiet, implacable devotion. It doesn't matter if you're prickly or sharp tongued or so ruined that you fear your heart is forever frozen over. He'll always be there - two steps behind you to guard your back.

You try to send him away. Try to tell him you didn't need a guard dog. He just looks at you and says he's not going anywhere. Not forceful, but gentle and firm. He isn't leaving you, not when you're so scarred from the war that most days you don't speak more than five words to anyone.

It's baffling. Why does he care about forgotten detritus like you? What good will it do? He's still strong, still handsome despite the scars. He can still have a normal life.

But no. He chooses you.

Chooses to walk with you from one village to the next. Chooses to sleep rough even though folk offer him work. Chooses to endure the rain and the cold and the long nights spent sleeping on hard ground. 

"Why?" you ask him time and again. "Why follow me? Why make me your purpose?"

He looks at you over the fire, a small, slanted smile on his face.

"Why do you think?"

You can't quite manage to puzzle it out, though anyone who sees him at your side can almost immediately tell.

Eventually, you settle down. A broken down old cottage at the edge of the woods. A place the villagers are all too glad to hand over. Better you than the vines, even if your eyes do frighten them.

An ex-warrior yandere who fixes the cottage for you, brick by brick. Who cleans out the overgrown garden and trades his labour to buy you seeds. Violets and lilacs and daffodils. Mint and thyme. All the plants you told him you missed the most when you were locked away.

An ex-warrior yandere who spends his evenings sitting next to you at the hearth, not speaking much, just resting his head on your knees and carving wood. Thinking how lucky he is to have this bit of quiet. That all the years of war and captivity were well worth the price if it means having you.

An ex-warrior yandere who slowly heals the broken parts inside you. Who teaches you to watch the sky and the path of the birds. Who teaches you to breathe deep when the nightmares come. Who sits awake with you when you're too afraid of your past to sleep.

An ex-warrior yandere who tells people in the village that you're his wife, even though you've never even kissed. When you ask him about it, he just shrugs his massive shoulders and says it's safer that way. And it's only the trees that know the truth - he calls you his wife because he likes the way it sounds.

For a while, things are good. You tend your herbs and make your tinctures. For a while, he believes he's put his sword behind him for good.

But your past follows you. The angry lover who called you a spy, maybe. Or a lord who isn't satisfied that his secrets are safe with you still around. Whatever the case, they come at night. Watch you, wait for their chance.

You don't notice them, too focused on your brews and potions.

But he does.

When evening comes, he picks up his wood ax and tells you he wants to bring back a few more branches for the night.

"But we've got plenty. And it's dark."

He smiles then, warmed by your concern.

"I won't be gone long, dove. Just a short walk. Keep the food warm for me."

And it is indeed a short walk. He catches them by surprise, awfully quiet for such a big man. They don't even have time to scream or grab their swords before he's cut them all down.

An ex-warrior yandere who wipes the blood off his face and inspects the blade of his ax.

"Ruined," he sighs. "She'll give me hell for it, I hope you know that."

The cooling corpses have no reply.

An ex-warrior yandere who returns home with a stack of firewood and a bunch of wildflowers.

You take them from him and breathe in their perfume.

"Lovely. Thank you."

That makes him smile again. Look at you, saying thank you. Accepting his gifts. It's been a long road to get here. If he closes his eyes he can still see you on that first day, too bitter and angry to even say please.

The flowers fill your whole cottage with their wild mountain smell, and you don't notice the faint trace of blood underneath the perfume. And if he has his way, you never will.

An ex-warrior yandere who swears off his old life. Who swears off violence and death and blood. Unless it comes to you.

He'll burn villages to ash for you. Cut so many throats he can drink the blood like water. He's a good man, but for you he'll throw it all away.

And those who are stupid enough to try it? To hurt the only good thing he's ever had?

Well, they find out awfully quickly exactly what happened to the Butcher of Brostick. They learn awfully fast that a man can change his name, but it's a much harder thing to change his nature.

An ex-warrior yandere who is the kindest, sweetest man you've ever met. Who doesn't raise his voice or pick fights. Who's always at your side when you need a place to lay your head. Who loves you with the deep, immovable devotion of an oak reaching for the sun.

An ex-warrior yandere who always washes the blood off before he comes home.

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy filming warrior (2011)

[misswynters]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝 Part Two

featuring. sevika x reader x ambessa

warnings. smut (18+), plot with heavy smut, hexstrap/shimmerstrap, threesome, more ambessa/sevika kissing ofc, dom!ambessa, switch!reader and sevika, fingering, degrading?, squirting (kinda), multiple positions(reverse cowgirl,etc.), tittysucking, praising. wlw, slapping, slight dacryphilia, thats it i think?

synopsis. You were sent on a mission to train sevika for an underground tournament, by non other than the tyrant herself, Ambessa Merdarda.

wc. 6.6k

It was almost like the night almost felt like it stretched endlessly as you sat on the plush velvet couch in Ambessa’s private quarters. Her taste for luxury was evident in every detail. She has sleek black walls, golden accents, and the soft glow of ambient lights. Yet, despite the lavish surroundings, your attention was singularly focused on Ambessa as she moved around the room, preparing for Sevika’s arrival.

There was a faint hum of a glowing hexstrap caught your eye. It rested on a table nearby, its blue light casting faint, flickering shadows. You swallowed hard, knowing exactly what it was and what it meant. Ambessa only brought it out for the nights when she intended to lose control. And just the mere thought of her using it tonight sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

“You look stunning,” Ambessa said, her deep voice breaking through your thoughts. You glanced down at the short red outfit you wore, the one she had picked out and bought for you months ago. The fabric clung to your curves, leaving little to the imagination, and you could still remember the way her eyes had darkened when she first handed it to you, her smirk suggesting it wasn’t meant for public viewing.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost shy under her intense gaze.

She stood in front of the table now, her hands briefly resting on the glowing device as she adjusted it, her movements deliberate. Her broad shoulders and strong arms flexed with every small motion, and it was impossible not to admire the sheer power she carried so effortlessly.

The clock ticked on, minutes dragging into hours. Sevika was supposed to arrive at 5, and now it was past 7. You tried to hide your disappointment, but it was difficult. Ambessa didn’t seem to share your restraint. She sat beside you on the couch now, her legs spread wide in a display of utter confidence, her arm draped casually across the back of the couch. The air was thick with tension, and you could feel the storm brewing in Ambessa’s chest. She didn’t like being kept waiting, and she despised being stood up. The sharp edge of her jaw tightened as she leaned back, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

“She’s late,” she said finally, her voice low and almost dangerous.

You nodded, unsure of what to say. “Maybe something came up?” you offered weakly, though you knew it wouldn’t soothe her.

Ambessa turned her head toward you, raising a brow. “Something came up?” she repeated, her tone dripping with skepticism. “If she doesn’t walk through that door soon, something will come up, all right.”

You bit your lip, not daring to respond. The image of Ambessa’s temper flaring was not something you wanted to dwell on, though part of you felt a twinge of excitement at the idea of her channeling that intensity toward you instead.

As if on cue, a knock echoed through the room, sharp and decisive. Ambessa’s body moved fluidly, her size and stature dominating the space as she stood. You jumped up instinctively, excitement flickering in your chest, but one sharp look from her froze you in place. She tilted her head toward the couch, and you sank back down without a word, your heart pounding.

The door opened, and there she was. Sevika, standing tall and unapologetic despite her tardiness. Her expression was unreadable, though her eyes flicked briefly toward you before settling on Ambessa.

“You’re late,” Ambessa said flatly, her tone was like a void of emptiness.

“Had to take care of something,” Sevika replied, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. She didn’t elaborate, and Ambessa didn’t ask. Instead, she stepped closer, her presence towering over Sevika in a way that seemed almost impossible given Sevika’s own impressive build.

“You don’t keep me waiting,” Ambessa said, her voice low yet commanding.

Sevika didn’t flinch, though her jaw tightened slightly. “I’m here now.”

Ambessa stared at her for a long second, and you swore you could cut through the tension that was in the air. Then, as if deciding to let it go, she stepped aside, gesturing for Sevika to enter fully. “Come in, then,” she said, her voice taking on a smoother tone, though the undercurrent of authority was still there.

Sevika’s eyes flicked toward you again as she moved further into the room, her gaze lingering for just a moment longer this time. You felt your cheeks heat under her scrutiny, and you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on a random spot on the floor.

Ambessa’s voice broke the silence. “Sit down,” she instructed Sevika, gesturing toward a chair near the center of the room.

Sevika raised a brow but obeyed, lowering herself into the chair with a casual confidence that matched Ambessa’s. She leaned back, one arm resting on the armrest, her other hand idly adjusting the strap of her tank top.

Ambessa turned her attention back to you, her expression softening slightly. “Little one,” she said, her tone gentler now, though still laced with that natural authority she carried. “Bring us some wine.”

You nodded quickly, eager to have something to do. The tension in the room was palpable, and being in the middle of it felt both thrilling and overwhelming. As you poured the drinks, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the two women. Ambessa had a calm demeanor, and Sevika’s was cool and confidence.

When you returned with the drinks, Ambessa took hers without a word, her fingers brushing lightly against yours as she did. Sevika nodded in thanks, her gaze lingering on you for just a moment before she took a sip. The conversation started off slow, the topic of training brought up briefly, though it was clear that neither of them was particularly interested in discussing it in depth. Instead, the focus seemed to shift naturally toward more personal matters.

You sat quietly on the couch, sipping your drink and trying to ignore the way your heart raced every time one of them glanced your way. It was impossible not to feel caught in the middle, both literally and figuratively with each passing second.

Then Ambessa stood, her drink abandoned on the table as she moved toward the glowing strap. She picked it up, her fingers trailing over its smooth rugged surface before she turned to Sevika. “Let’s cut the chase,” she said, her voice low and steady. “We all know why you’re really here.”

Sevika raised a brow, her expression unreadable. “Do we?” she asked, her tone equally calm, though there was a hint of challenge in her voice.

Ambessa smirked, her gaze flicking briefly toward you before settling back on Sevika. “Yes,” she said simply. Their shared look was charged with hidden desire. You couldn’t help but shift slightly in your seat, your body buzzing with excitement. With a commanding look from Ambessa, you stood up towards the two older women. Walking over to them while looking at the one who was sitting.

"Go on, Sevika. I give you my permission to touch my pretty girl." she spoke, gesturing her to lay her hands on you. No one had to tell her twice.

Ambessa followed idly behind the two of you as you led sevika towards the bed. It was quite large, recently bought from the store. Almost as if she has the intentions of this encounter already planned out. Which didn't surprise you. Especially with the way she would talk about sevika, all her plans. The things she whispered into your ears, (which is was the main reason why you agreed to do all of this in the first place) that she would do to the two of you. Only if sevika was willingly.

Sevika's eyes never left yours as you gently pushed her onto the bed, her knees buckling against the edge of the bed. Looking up at you with those sweet puppy eyes, sending a spark straight to your core.

The tension in the room grew heavier as Sevika's hands roamed your body, firm and unapologetic. Her calloused fingertips traced over the shimmering fabric of your red outfit, igniting sparks against your skin. With a swift move, you straddled her large thighs that were bulging with muscles. As you moved your hips against hers, Sevika's breath hitched, a deep groan escaping her throat. You captured her lips, kissing her deeply with hunger, only to pull back just as she leaned in, a teasing smirk dancing on your lips. "You're playing with fire, sweetheart" she muttered, her voice rough, almost warning you to take it slow.

"Maybe I like the heat," you murmured, your voice teasing as your leaned closer to her face. "I’ve always been drawn to danger. But I promise, I’ll play nice… for now."

Her darkened eyes burned into yours as you dared her to take the bait. Before you could react, Sevika flipped you over, her strength undeniable. Your back pressed against the mattress, her larger frame pinning you down. Her hand easily captured both of yours, pressing them above your head with an iron grip. You gasped, feeling the weight of her against you, your chest rising and falling rapidly, drawing her gaze to the glittering fabric of your top.

"You look too good like this," she growled, leaning down close enough that her breath fanned over your lips.

From across the bed, Ambessa watched with a smirk curling at the edges of her mouth. Her slow, steady movements commanded attention as she approached the two of you. Her presence was magnetic, her eyes gleaming with approval.

"Getting carried away already, Sevika?" Ambessa remarked, her voice cutting through the moment like a blade. "I thought you were better at pacing yourself."

Sevika turned her head slightly, meeting Ambessa's gaze without loosening her grip on you. "And I thought you were better at staying out of the way," she shot back, her voice full of bravado.

Ambessa chuckled, low and dangerous. "Careful now. I wasn't the one pinned to the mattress just now with an audience," she teased.

Your cheeks flushed as their banter only added to the tension swirling in the room. As you lay beneath Sevika, helpless yet completely enthralled, your gaze darted to Ambessa as she stepped closer. The glow of the warm lighting casting her in gold. Her powerful frame was accentuated as she removed her outer jacket, leaving her in the fitted sports bra from earlier today, that showcased her sculpted arms and abs.

Ambessa's gaze dropped to you, softening just slightly. "Darling," she murmured, her tone yet again commanding. "Be a good one and let me take it from here."

Sevika raised an eyebrow, her grip on your wrists tightening slightly in defiance. "You think you can just take over?"

Ambessa tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. "I don't think, Sevika. I know."

The room crackled with tension as the two women faced off, their impressive statures and commanding presences filling the space. You couldn't help but feel small between them, and yet Ambessa's eyes always softened when they found you.

Without another word, Ambessa leaned down, her hand brushing against yours as she pulled Sevika up with effortless strength, breaking her hold on you. Placing her on the bed, making her take a place beside you. Sevika stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the sheer power Ambessa exuded, but the flicker of respect, that crossed her face.

"Now," Ambessa said, turning her attention back to you. "Let's show Sevika how things are really done."

You hesitated, your breath hitching as you caught the glint of something wicked in her eyes. Sevika remained by the bed, watching closely, her gaze darting between you and Ambessa. You sat up slowly, trying to steady your racing heart.

Ambessa extended a hand to you, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek before trailing down to your arm.

"Come here," she murmured, softer this time still with the same lustful tone.

Your hesitation only made her smirk deepen. "Don't make me say it twice," she warned, and that was all it took to get you moving.

As you scooted closer, Ambessa's hands found your waist, pulling you flush against her. Her lips claimed yours in a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a stark contrast to Sevika's earlier intensity. When she finally pulled back, her thumb brushed over your lower lip as if savoring the moment.

Sevika let out a low chuckle from her spot on the bed, her arms crossed as she leaned back slightly. "Looks like l'm not the only one getting carried away," she teased, though her gaze betrayed her interest.

Ambessa shot her a look, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "Stay long enough, Sevika, and maybe you'll learn something." The words hung in the air, a challenge laced with promise. Her voice was low and commanding as she leaned back, towering over you. Her gaze flickering between you and Sevika. "Who wants to go first?" she asked, her tone like velvet wrapped around steel.

There was heavy anticipation that lingered the room, the golden light reflecting against the intricate decor of Ambessa's chambers. You swallowed hard, a mix of eagerness and nerves flickering in your chest. "I'll go," you said, barely above a whisper, yet filled with confidence.

Ambessa's lips curled into a knowing smile. "I thought as much." She crossed her arms, her presence dominating as she watched you approach closer towards Sevika. "But let's make this interesting," she added, leaning forward slightly. "You'll have the privilege of taking the lead. And if you can get Sevika to submit-" her voice dipped, rich with implication, "—then maybe I'll keep rewarding you."

Sevika raised an eyebrow at you, her expression amused. "Think you've got it in you?" she teased, her deep voice carrying a playful edge. She let you push her down onto the soft bed again with a grin, clearly more intrigued. "Go on, impress me."

You rolled your eyes at her arrogance but felt a flicker of heat at the challenge. "Cute, Sevika," you murmured, leaning over her. "But don't forget, Ambessa gave me the reins."

Sevika smirked. "Only because she thinks you're adorable when you try. Don't forget this is your second chance, sweetie." Her words sent a surge of determination through you. You straddled her confidently, your palms pressing against her shoulders as you pushed her back. Sevika let you, her expression never losing that infuriatingly smug edge. She was testing you, watching to see how far you'd go.

"Adorable, huh?" you whispered, your lips hovering dangerously close to hers. You pressed a light kiss against the corner of her mouth before pulling back just enough to see her eyes darken. "Let's see if you're still calling me that in a few minutes."

Ambessa's laughter rumbled from her seat on the bed. "That's my girl," she said approvingly, her tone laced with amusement. You could feel her eyes on you even as you focused on Sevika.

Without warning, Ambessa came behind you, her hands resting lightly on your hips. "Go on," she murmured near your ear, her deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Show me how you handle her."

Sevika's smirk faltered slightly as you leaned down, pressing kisses against her neck, her collarbone, and lower as your hands worked beneath her clothes. Her breathing hitched, the steady rhythm breaking as you nipped gently at her skin. "Not bad," she muttered, her voice rougher now. "But you're gonna have to do better."

Ambessa chuckled, her hands steadying you as she lifted the hem of your top. "Oh, don't worry," she said, her voice dripping with authority.

"My darling here is just getting started." You felt Ambessa's warmth behind you, her hands brushing against your waist as she whispered something low and indecipherable. Her control was intoxicating, and combined with Sevika's tension beneath you, the air in the room felt electric.

Sevika's hands, rough and calloused, found your thighs, gripping firmly as if she was daring you to push her further.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she asked, her voice low, her gaze sharp. "Thinking you're in control?"

You leaned close, your lips brushing her ear. "Maybe I am," you whispered. "Or maybe you're letting me."

Ambessa's rich laughter filled the room again as her hands briefly tightened around your waist. "Clever," she remarked. "Both of you. I wonder who's truly in charge here."

She adjusted the glowing hextech strap that she had oat her side, its faint blue light casting ethereal patterns against the dimly lit walls. The buzzing sound of its energy resonated in the room. An underlying current of power that heightened every breath, every lingering touch. She loomed over you, her presence overwhelming as her large hands traced along your waist, lifting the delicate fabric that clung to your body.

"Relax," Ambessa murmured, her deep voice urging you to obey. She pushed her hips toward yours, her strength noticeable in the way she moved. Each subtle movement sent shivers coursing through your body. Her thrusts were precise, the sounds of your hips slapping against each other filled the room. Yet she kept her gaze locked onto your ass, watching every action with a smirk of satisfaction. The way your pretty folds part as she presses her cock deep inside you. Clenching around her so perfectly.

"Fuck-" you cursed under your breath as you could feel the tight knot in your stomach grow. The wetness of your pussy became more prominent making it easier for the long and thick strap to hit the deepest parts. You didn't know if you wanted her to go harder, faster or slow down. However you were trying your hardest not to beg for anything more, now that sevika was underneath you. Showing her submissive side. But you couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Please go faster!-" you begged against Sevika's neck as you left love bites on them. How could the woman say no to you when you were being so obedient. Her pace quicken trying to get you to come for the first time tonight. Wet squelching noises could be heard across the room, as you were almost reaching your release. After a few more seconds of it, you finally came on her cock. The arousal seeping outside your folds, coating the strap in a thin layer.

"Good job, little one" Ambessa breathily said as her grip was still on your hips this time slowly pushing inside of you.

You groaned as she pulled out completely, the hexstrap hummed as it shot a load onto the small of your back. The glowy substance felt warm, having the near same consistency as the real thing.

Sevika was beneath you, her sharp features softened by the flicker of light and the slight upward curve of her lips. She let out a low, approving hum as you leaned closer, your lips brushing hers in a kiss that grew increasingly hungry.

Her calloused hands settled on your hips, guiding you as your fingers began to explore. The warmth of her skin beneath your touch sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t resist trailing your lips down her neck. Each kiss you left on her skin felt like a brand, earning quiet sighs and groans of approval from the woman beneath you.

“Don’t stop,” Sevika begged, her voice husky as her fingers tightened their grip on your hips. Her gaze locked with yours for a moment, her dark eyes betraying the vulnerability she rarely let anyone see.

From behind, Ambessa’s presence remained firm. Her hands rested at your waist as she slipped inside you against. Keeping the same slow pace. earning a moan from you as your thighs shivered. “Take your time,” she murmured, her deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Enjoy her.”

Encouraged by her words, your hands slipped beneath Sevika’s shirt, pushing the fabric up and over her shoulders. She assisted with a smirk, lifting just enough for you to pull it off completely. Her toned form was on full display, and your breath hitched at the sight of her.

“You’re staring,” Sevika teased, though her voice faltered slightly when you leaned down and pressed your lips to the curve of her collarbone.

“Can you blame me?” you shot back, a playful smirk on your lips before you resumed your exploration. Your kisses trailed lower, each one met with a quiet groan from Sevika.

Ambessa’s fingers tightened slightly on your waist. She leaned forward, her breath warm against the back of your neck. “You’re doing well, little one,” she whispered, her voice a mixture of approval and pride.

Sevika’s chest rose and fell rapidly as your lips moved lower, pressing against the curve of her mounds. You placed soft kisses there, savoring the way her body responded to your touch. Her hands tangled in the fabric of your clothing, her sharp nails grazing your skin as she fought to keep her composure.

"Fucking hell. You're going to drive me insane," Sevika admitted, her voice rough as her hands settled on your shoulders. Tilted her head back against the pillow.

Ambessa chuckled softly behind you, her hands sliding along your sides. "Then let her," she said, her voice rich with amusement. "She's clearly quite skilled at it."

Her hands gripped your hips firmly, her strength an anchor that steadied and overwhelmed you at the same time. You felt her fingers tighten on your hips, spreading your ass cheeks so she can see her cock go slowly inside of you. Guiding you against her pelvis, the wet lewd sounds coming from your pussy again could be heard. Her gazed remained at the place where the two of you connected. The strap was glistening with your arousal from earlier.

Her low voice broke the silence, thick with satisfaction. “Look at you,” she murmured, her words carrying a mix of pride and affection. “Taking my cock so perfectly like it was made for you.” She leaned forward again, her breath hot against the shell of your ear.

As the woman behind you became more determined, the rhythm became slowly more relentless, making you lean forward and reach for Sevika's lips. She met you eagerly, her hands traveling along your sides, exploring every curve with an almost possessive need. Her lips were warm, her kisses hungry. It was as though she wanted to mark you as hers with every brush of her lips, every press of her fingertips.

Each thrust of Ambessa's hips pushed you closer to Sevika, your body molding against hers. A low, guttural sound escaped your lips as Sevika’s strong hands roamed across your back and down your thighs, leaving a trail of warmth and sparks in their wake. Her grip tightened suddenly, her nails digging into your skin, the slight edge of pain grounding you further in the moment.

“Can’t get enough of you,” Sevika muttered against your lips, her voice rough and thick with desire. Her hands slid lower, brushing against the fabric of your clothing before finding the warmth of your skin beneath. She tilted her head to the side, giving you better access to her neck as you continued to kiss and mark her. Leaving a trail of faint red where your lips and teeth had claimed her.

Ambessa's voice broke through again. "You're beautiful like this, little one," she said, her words wrapping around you.. Her hands moved in sync with her thrusts, her grip harden as she picked up the pace. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the space, the atmosphere thick with heat and longing.

Sevika's hands suddenly shifted, her fingers trailing between your thighs. Her touch was hot as her fingers moved in gentle, teasing circles, her smirk widening when you let out a sharp moan. "That's it," she murmured, her voice lower now, laced with satisfaction. "You're doing so well for us."

Ambessa's pace quickened, her strength shining in every thrust. Each push from her brought you closer to Sevika, your body pressing against hers as though trying to merge with her completely. The sensation of both of their hands on you: Ambessa's steady grip on your hips and Sevika's teasing touch, was overwhelming in the best way. It felt like they were both guiding you, their movements perfectly in sync.

Your lips found Sevika's again, your kiss messier this time, full of need. She groaned into your mouth, her hands gripping your waist tightly, almost possessively. The slight sting of her hold only heightened the intensity, making you melt further against her.

Ambessa's voice returned, softer now, yet still commanding. "Don't hold back, little one," she murmured, her eyes fixed on you with unwavering focus. "Let us hear you."

Sevika’s fingers pushed deeper against your clit, her touch perfectly timed with Ambessa’s movements. You clung to Sevika, your hands tangling in her hair as you pressed kisses along her jaw and down to her chest, leaving marks wherever your lips landed. Her fingers slipped inside your folds as well, causing a strained moan from your lips. Oh how good it felt. Her fingers began to go deeply inside of you constantly hitting that sensitive spot repeatedly.

Noticing this, with jealousy that your attention was focused towards sevika other than her, a switch flipped inside of her. She pushed your upper body down onto the other woman's chest as she hoisted your hips up. You cried from underneath her, staining Sevika's chest with your tears and drool as she fucked you into ecstasy.

Ambessa kept pounding into you, her huge thumb rubbing your clit. “Just like this, little one? Only i could fuck you this way, nobody else can make you cry like this.” Ambessa chuckled as you nodded in response.

You cried once more before Ambessa thrusted into you, hips slamming hard against yours. Trying your best to continue your kisses and bites that you were leaving on Sevika's chest, moving forward with each relentless thrust. To silent your moans you began to suck on her tits, swirling your tongue around her nipples.

Ambessa leaned her head back as she continued her pace. Biting away her moans as she gripping your hips so hard that it was definitely going to leave bruises the next day. She groaned silently, "Fuck, so tight around me"

“Little one, can you beg for me again?” she whispered soft as she leaned over towards you, your back against her large frame. You couldn’t respond as you were too busy sucking on the chest that was infront of you, hearing her low soft moans. Ambessa noticed this and directed a hit on your ass, getting your attention immediately. And once she got you to stop, she caressed the spot where she spanked you. Gosh you didn’t know she was into spanking. This makes the situation you were in much better. Remembering what her words were you spoke again.

"Fuck me like you did earlier, harder this-"

Out of nowhere Sevika's lips captured yours roughly. She sat up her warm chest against yours, her arms around your waist. Ambessa was shocked to say the least but she didn't stop. No, she wanted to see where this could go.

With a smirk, Sevika began to fondle your chest harshly, her lips mouthing down your neck and towards your hardened nipples. Through the thin fabric of the lingerie, she took one of them into her mouth and sucking on it. Just like you did to her. She looked up at you. "Just wanted to return the favor, sweetheart."

Tears began to fill your eyes as you began to feel the knot in your stomach tighten again. But it felt different this time. There was more pressure building up. With a cock slowly antagonizing your folds, Sevika's fingers buried inside you as she rubbed your clit and now her mouth on your chest. It felt like a dream. Sadly it was too good to be true.

Just before you could reach your climax, Ambessa stopped her pace, pulling out of you completely. Sevika followed suit as well, her fingers left a void inside your folds and her lips were no longer on you. She looked at you with a teasing smirking face. No way this wasn't planned, they both stopped at the same time.

"My dear," the women behind you spoke, clearly talking to Sevika. She leaned against your back as she hungrily pushed her lips against the other woman. Both of them were moaning softly against each others lips, it was a scene to behold. You were caught in between them as they ravished one another, tongues dancing within their mouths for the upper hand.

Ambessa began to slowly cupping her mounds, pinching her sensitive nubs as their kiss began to be more needy. Saliva began to build up on their lips as sevika began to slightly drool down her chin. 'Not fair, not at all'. You thought. They were leaving you empty, with nothing to do but stare.

You sat there watching, unable to do anything at all. Starting to whine, as you lazily tried to bring Ambessa's hand towards you.

"Don't do anything, Darling," The taller woman whispered into your ear as she momentarily stopped before continuing her ravishing attack on Sevika's now swollen lips. Ambessa bite her lips with such force that it drew blood. "Stop suppressing your moans, my dear. I wanna hear you"

A strained moan erupted through Sevika's lips immediately as Ambessa pulled her closer. You were now being smushed between them. The heat that was radiating from all three of your bodies was unbearable.

Ambessa's hands were now roaming your chest, pinching your nipple as well. You leaned back towards her rough shoulders in pleasure. The rough material of her sports bra, moved against your back. You began to buck your hips backwards trying to get the emptiness feeling a inside of you a start-up.

"Fucking hate you" the younger of the two whispered against her lips. Smirking, trying to get a reaction from the elder. But it wasnt enough. You were sitting there right between them when it happened, close enough to feel the tension crackling in the air like a storm about to break.

Smack.

The sharp sound of the slap echoed in the room, starting you into a shock stillness. Sevika's hand was still raised, trembling slightly while Ambessa remained perfectly still her head turned from the force of the strike.

You could feel the weight of their gazes, the anger in sevika's eyes and the dangerous calm in Ambessa's. Slowly she straightened, her smirk returning, though her expression now carried a hungry edge.

"Well," she drawled, her voice low and rich, making your skin prickle. her eyes flicked to yours for the briefest moment, and you swore you saw amusement. Leaning closer to Sevika, her arm wrapping around your shoulder. "Ha! Didn't think you had it in you," Ambessa chuckled her fingers tracing the spot where Sevika's hand had landed, savoring the sting feeling.

Her voice dipped lower, you could barely breath as her voice coiled the air between like smoke. "Careful, my dear. A move like that could lead to...dire consequences."

"Oh come on, you bitch!" sevika whispered against her lips slightly, pushing at Ambessa's shoulder causing her to let go of her hold on you. Unbelievable. You looked at sevika with worry, knowing that Ambessa doesn't like to be told the opposite of what she wants to hear. In this case, it was disobedience. However, it was weird to see her be amused like this.

Ambessa chuckled softly, as she moved behind you, her steps slow. You turned instinctively, your heart pounding as she settled herself on the bed leaning against the headboard. Her legs spread with a casual confidence, and her hand patted her lap with an air of command, her eyes locked onto yours.

“Come here,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. You hesitated, caught in the lustful moment. Before you could take crawl towards her, Sevilla turned, her sharp gaze slicing through the air as she grabbed you firmly by the waist. Pulling you back against her.

“No,” Sevika said firmly, her voice a warning, hinted with a softer, almost pleading tone.

Ambessa mirrored her response, her smirk widening as if this was all a game to her. “No?” she repeated, her voice dripping with amusement. “We’ll see about that.”

With an ease that defied her strength, Ambessa leaned forward, her arm snaking around your waist with a controlled grip. You barely had a moment to react before she lifted you effortlessly and placed you on her lap, holding you there with an authority that made your breath catch.

Her gaze flicked to Sevika, daring her to act, while her other hand rested lightly on your back, keeping you steady. “Comfortable?” Ambessa asked, her smirk now a full grin, as if she already knew the answer.

Sevika’s jaw tightened, her hand still outstretched as though she might reach for you again. The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with unspoken words and unrelenting stares.

Ambessa leaned back into the pillows for a moment, her arms spread out along the headboard as if she owned the entire room. Which she did. Her gaze was sharp, predatory, as it settled on Sevika. A slow, knowing smirk played on her lips as she issued her next command.

“Sevika,” she said, her voice smooth, yet laced with the kind of challenge that made your heart race. “Come here.”

Sevika froze, her body tensing visibly. She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she held her ground. “Are you fucking crazy?” she shot back, her voice edged with disbelief and anger.

Ambessa’s laughter was rich, almost mocking, as she shifted slightly forward. Her eyes glinted with amusement. Like it was a game. “Oh, I’ve been called worse,” she said, her smirk widening. “But let me make one thing clear, I love putting people in their place.”

She straightened, her presence overwhelming as her words cut through the tension in the room. “And tonight, I think I’ll start with you.”

Her gaze flicked down to you briefly, and her expression softened just enough to make the contrast with her earlier tone striking. “You,” she murmured, brushing her fingers lightly against your arm, “always do what you’re told. Why wouldn’t you? I take care of you. I make sure you’re safe, comfortable—everything you need, I provide.”

Her words sent a ripple of emotion through you, but the moment was fleeting. Ambessa’s attention snapped back to Sevika, her voice sharpening like the crack of a whip.

Without warning, Ambessa sat up on the bed. You couldn’t help but feel small under her towering presence as she closed the distance between herself and Sevika. She stopped inches away, leaning down until her hands rested on her knees, her face mere inches from the younger. Her eyes burned with intensity, and the air in the room grew heavy, charged with hot tension.

“You’ve got a fire in you,” Ambessa murmured, her voice low and dangerous. “But let’s see if you can follow a simple instruction.”

Sevika glared back, her defiance unwavering, but the slight hitch in her breath betrayed her unease. Ambessa reached out, her hand swift and firm as she gripped her chin, tilting her head up with an rough precision. The gesture was primal, and the air between them was suffocating. You could only watch as Ambessa’s thumb brushed against her jawline.

“Get me the other strap,” Ambessa ordered, her voice calm but with a bite that made it clear she wasn’t asking. She tilted her head toward the nightstand without breaking her gaze, her smirk returning as she studied Sevika’s reaction.

For a moment, the room was still, the air thick with defiance and control. Sevika’s eyes darted to the object on the nightstand, then back to Ambessa’s unyielding stare. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

Ambessa’s gaze didn’t waver as she held Sevika’s chin firmly in her grip. Her voice, broke the heavy silence. “Put it on,” she said, the words clipped but carrying an undeniable weight.

Sevika’s jaw clenched under her hand, her defiance flickering like a flame that refused to be extinguished. But even she seemed to understand the futility of resistance. With a sharp breath, she reached for the glowing device on the nightstand.

Ambessa released her chin with a satisfied smirk, her attention shifting back to you. In one swift motion, she moved back to her spot, pulled you onto her lap once again. Her arm wrapping securely around your waist.

“Now,” Ambessa continued, her voice like velvet over steel, “Come here. Sit behind my darling here.”

Sevika paused, the device still in her hand as her eyes darted to you, then back to Ambessa. “You can’t be serious,” she muttered, though there was a hesitance in her voice that hadn’t been there before.

Ambessa chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. “Oh, I’m very serious,” she replied, her smirk growing as her free hand rested lightly on your shoulder, a silent reminder of her control over the situation. “Do as you’re told, Sevika. Or would you like me to remind you why I’m the one in charge?”

The challenge hung in the air, thick and unrelenting. For a moment, you could feel Sevika’s internal battle, her grip tightening on the strap. But then, with a reluctant sigh, she moved. Slowly, she approached the two of you, her movements cautious as though she were trying to maintain some semblance of control in a situation that had clearly slipped from her grasp.

As Sevika settled behind you, her proximity added another layer to the already charged atmosphere. Ambessa’s smirk widened, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low murmur meant for you alone.

“See?” she said softly, her words laced with amusement. “Everything falls into place, just as it should.” As if she was pondering her discussion just now, it was a like a light bulb switched on her face.

"Actually, Little one" She spoke into your ear as she caressing your hair with her big hands. Your eyes widened at her request, almost murmuring a no. However you knew better. Settling beside the woman, you shyly ushered sevika to sit on Ambessa's lap.

Hesitantly but surely she did, as she was told.

Sevika reached down again with her hand to line the glowy cock with her folds. Slowly, she lowered herself down, pausing briefly when the tip pushed inside. Once it was inside, she grabbed Ambessa's thighs, as she sunk down on the cock. Her mouth open as each inch filled her completely. The initial stretch burned for a short second, but after that she had to take a moment to adjust to the girth.

Her nails digging into her thick and muscular thighs. She leaned towards you, kissing you of the lips as a hand pushed her towards you at an angle. Arching her back deliciously. Slowly, the woman began to bounce of her length already getting used to the feeling, as her own strap followed the movements. Moaning into your lips as every time Ambessa's hips bucked upwards.

"Fuck." she breathed out.

"That's it, be a good girl and cum on my cock" Ambessa gripping her hips tightly, as she began to bounce the woman at her own accord. With each thrust the wet noises that came from her folds grew louder. It was a nice thing to hear, someone who wasn't you crumbling against her.

part three?

taglist. @blckbny @themostlesbianever @galaxydreamer468 @mpenguin7 @mvistl @dollstry @abitchnamedtia @ab2ysw1fe @lizzy222y @lexi2000 @sevsluts @yer-boiiii @jayden-prentiss @humbledaylily556 @desnaa @lottiesviolence @abitchnamedtia @twinklewrinkle @waffleurs @ariariarr @robzo4 @queenofboredom02 @wolfessa @thesecondhandwoman @darktrashpoetry @sssydneyyyosallie @moonlight-dreamer-04 @nyxportals @kaidain @mommymilkers0526 @yaeil @fortluocha @gravegoer @themostlesbianever @m00nd0v3 @idk2anym @hhot289 @eddiemunsonsgirlie @pitstopsapphic @cewl-casper @nikaachuuuu @randomstuffthatdontmakesense @femme-historian @randomperson291 @cookie-crumble2 @brrrkdslek-personal @sevikelllsss

[vunblr]

Masterlist

Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy the journey through these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

The Weight of Choices (Slight angst. Smut.) Oneshot.

Summary: Torn between his instinct to protect his family and his desire to be a part of their lives, Bucky tries to deal with the reality of his ex-wife going on a date while he stays home caring for their son.

An Unfinished Goodbye (Slight Angst. Side-story of The Weight of Choices.) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky tells himself he’s only watching over his ex-wife and son for their safety. But when someone threatens to alter the status quo, his quiet vigilance falters.

What If?... (Fluff. Smut) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.

The Memory Remains (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: An unexpected encounter brings Bucky face-to-face with someone from his past, stirring memories he thought were long buried.

Wounds and Walls (Slight angst. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky starts to walk into his new civilian life but struggles with his painful past, while slowly building a connection with someone who sees through his walls. As the relationship deepens, he must decide if he’s ready for something more, or if he’ll hide and push it all away.

Crumbs of Connection (Fluff.) Oneshot

Summary: When Bucky wanders into a quirky late-night bakery, he doesn’t expect the warmhearted owner to challenge his defenses.

Spells and Fangs (World of Warcraft AU) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky, a grumpy worgen warrior, and his sharp-tongued mage partner are sent on a relatively simple quest that quickly spirals into chaos.

Roots and Branches (Fluff. Smut. Lumberjack AU)

Summary: Bucky has built a quiet life in the woods, content to keep the world at arm's length. But when a new neighbor moves to town, her presence ignites emotions he’s hesitant to face.

A Heart in Hiding (Angst-Hurt/Comfort) Oneshot

Summary: Caught between the shadows of his past and an unexpected connection, Bucky wrestles with his demons and his growing feelings for a new Avenger.

To Mend a Soldier (Slight angst. Comfort. Fluff.) Oneshot

Summary: Pressed by a worried Sam, Bucky reluctantly agrees to try an alternative -and, if you ask him, weird- therapy program: rent-a-mom. What starts as an obligation soon turns into something far more meaningful than he ever expected.

Toy Soldier (Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Smut) Ended.

Summary: She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.

The Broken Waltz (Angst. Hurt. Sprinkles of comfort. Dark content.) Toy Soldier's Side-story. Oneshot

Fifteen Minutes (Angst. Hurt. Sprinkles of comfort. Dark content.)

Toy Soldier's Side-story. Oneshot

Summary: Before freedom, before choice, there was only function. A tool and a weapon, bound in a dance orchestrated by Hydra’s cruel hands. The tool was meant to mend, the weapon to destroy. That night, the tool got to witness the weapon's other purposes.

The Price of Silence (Blue-collar Bucky) Ongoing

Summary: Porn with a little plot. Cynical and disenchanted with the world Bucky finds a job at a construction site after the blip. Tasked with retrieving lunch from a local bakery, he never expects to fall into a fuck-buddies situation with the clerk.

A Hand in the Dark (Angst. Hurt/Comfort.) Ongoing

Summary: In a brief moment of lucidity, Soldat makes a choice. And some choices echo across time, shaping the future in ways no one could predict.

Foundations (Slight Angst. Fluff) Ended

Summary: Bucky is doing his best to build a stable life for his newfound son, rescued from the guts of a Hydra facility. As he struggles with unexpected fatherhood and his own circumstances, he meets someone who slowly becomes part of their lives, establishing a connection he never saw coming.

Plump & Ripe (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: On a routine visit to the fruit shop, Bucky ends up with more than his usual goodies.

Lush (Fluff. Smut.) Oneshot

Summary: After Bucky is reminded by an offending shirt that his body isn't what it used to be, Sugarplum finds just the right way to get him out of his head.

Terms of Attraction (Fluff. Slight Comfort. Sexual Tension.) Oneshot

Summary: Long hours, sharp tongues, and unbreakable trust have defined Industrial Inputs CEO Bucky Barnes and his secretary’s dynamic, always walking a fine line. But some lines aren’t meant to be left uncrossed.

Tangled (Merman! Bucky. Fluff. Slight Angst. Teratophilia.) Ended

Summary: Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.

Built to Last (Fluff) Oneshot

Summary: Bucky took up carpentry to keep himself busy, but didn't expect a hardware clerk to make him want more.

A Star Without a Sky (Slight Angst. Comfort. Fluff. Smut) Ongoing

Summary: A wounded Sheriff Barnes seeks shelter in a young widow’s home, and finds himself wrapped in a warmth he no longer believes he deserves, and longing for something he thought long buried.

Behind Closed Doors (Slight angst. Mommy Kink) Oneshot

Summary: Most days, Bucky is a functional, dependable, and even deadly man. Others, when the noise in his head gets too loud, behind closed doors, he becomes Jamie.

The Trouble With Saturdays (Fluff) Oneshot

Summary: Life at the Thunderbolts Tower is loud, chaotic, and full of questionable moral choices. Bucky’s used to keeping to himself, until one night, after one of those questionable moral choices was made, the guys got him high.

Spasibo (Smut) Oneshot

Summary: She offered kindness where there should’ve been fear. Now it haunts her in silence, starved for warmth it can’t forget.

EVENTS MASTERLISTS

AA Bucky's 108th birthday Bingo

AA Kinky Bingo

Chains of Fate (Fluff. Smut.) Destroyer!Chris. Oneshot

Summary: A florist keeps having trouble with her bicycle, and Chris, her rugged mechanic neighbor, is always available to help. Or isn’t he?

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

[hxney-lemcn]

I Got Reincarnated as an NPC From my Favorite Video Game and the Protag Won't Leave me be! — Hyrule Warriors! Link x gn! reader

summary: hit by a car, you find yourself transported into a video game, and it's just your luck the protagonist falls for you.

tw: death, drunk kiss/confession (that gets rectified)

a/n: I MADE IT! I did so much research about medieval times for this fic I feel like a scholar.

wc: 4.6k

Master List

It happened in a split second. One moment you’re crossing the road, the green walk signal lulling you into a false sense of peace, then you’re tripping on a crack in the road causing you to drop one of your bags. You quickly scramble to pick it up, only for a loud horn to blare, a screech, and something hitting you full force, knocking you unconscious. 

You woke up in a daze. Your mind felt completely blank at first, eyes squinting as you woke up to scratchy sheets and pillow that did not support your head that well. Then it seemed to all come to you at once. You were on your way home from a small grocery run, then something hit you. Adrenaline filled you as you tossed the blanket to the side, inspecting your body for any damages. Odd, not a single blemish on your skin besides some calluses that lined your palms. Strange becomes stranger. It was then that you looked around the room, expecting to find yourself at the hospital, but instead you felt your stomach drop. It looked like you were in some medieval historical museum.

What the actual fuck was going on. 

You stood up, legs shaky. The room was small, it held a bed, a wardrobe, and a small fireplace. You felt all out of sorts, looking down at the long white nightgown that you donned. You weren’t sure what you would find when you descended the stairs that led out of the room, so you decided to check the wardrobe for a change. Perhaps that will help you feel a bit more stable doing a routine you were familiar with. Wrong. The wardrobe was filled with…tunics? There were a variety of colors, some with long sleeves, others with no sleeves, some beige, others vibrant colors. You felt way too out of your depth at the moment. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself, your mind was in overdrive and you needed to take things one step at a time. 

With shaky hands, you grab a long sleeved beige tunic. It seemed like that was the first step, it looked like an undershirt. Placing it on the bed you went back to look over the more vibrant tunics, some with short baggy sleeves, others with no sleeves at all. It would make sense the tunic that is more flashy would go on top. Picking out a color you liked, you placed it next to the first tunic. Next you went to search for pants, most were brown or beige, picking the one that matched your chosen tunics the most you finally were ready to change. 

You wished you had a mirror to see how you looked, but you suppose they weren’t as common in this time period. What the hell were you saying? Time period? Had you really gone back in time? No, don’t think about it. You took in another deep breath. At least the clothes were really comfy. Why the hell had people stopped wearing these? 

With a long sigh, you decided it was finally time to tackle the question of what was beyond this room. Slowly, you walked down the wooden steps, peeking down and seeing that it was what seemed to be a living room/kitchen. An old stove was against the wall, the brick opened at the bottom that held a small fire that was slowly dying. So that’s how they cooked foods back in the day…in this day…? Whatever. A small wooden table rested on the opposite side with two chairs, a small bookshelf rested next to it. It seemed kinda cozy if you were being honest. Another set of stairs led down into another unknown area. Your stomach grumbled, echoing in the silent room. With all your panicking and shock you hadn’t realized how hungry you were. 

It seemed that whoever you had become…were you still you? In a sense…yes and no. You don’t want to think too hard about it. Whatever. It seemed no matter what you were a bit lazy in any time period, as a kettle was on the stove with some boiling stew. Picking up a piece of wood from the pile that sat in the corner, you added it under the stove, causing the fire to rise once more. Ladle in hand, you stirred to see all that was in the soup. Bones, meat, carrots, peas, and corn. Grabbing a bread bowl, you scooped yourself up a portion and took a seat at the small wooden table. 

As you ate your meal, you reassessed your situation. You were hit, most likely by a suv, bus, truck, or other large vehicle. Then you woke up in some medieval seeming house with medieval clothing. Wasn’t this the plot to some trashy isekai novel? Weren’t you supposed to be the villainess or heroine or something? Why were you some seemingly random peasant? A harsh sigh escaped from your nose. Sure, you didn’t mind reading one of those stories, but to live one? Was this some cruel joke? You needed to know where and when you were, and also who the hell you were. What was your name? Was it the same? With a shake of your head you grabbed one of the books on the shelf that sat next to you. Perhaps a story will help you find some crucial information. 

Taking a bite from the bread bowl, you opened the book, only for another wave of horror to wash over you. The text was completely different. You couldn’t read the alphabet-

You clutched your head as a sudden intense, blinding white hot pain overcame you. Your eyes were squeezed shut as a ton of information washed over you. No, not information. Memories. This body’s memories. Memories of when you were a child and your parents walked you through the market, memories of being a teenager and already working in the bakery that sat below you. Memories of your parents dying when you were only eighteen, memories of navigating life in the city on your own, making friends, greeting customers, baking goods. You let out a loud gasp as the pain finally dulled into a throbbing annoyance, white dots littering your sight when you finally opened your eyes once more. 

It felt like you were two people in one body, two different sets of memories held in your brain. You need to hurry and start baking so you can open shop. Do you even know how to bake? Of course you do, you’ve done it all your life. You quickly finished the bread that made up your makeshift bowl, rushing down the stairs and looking in awe at the brickstone oven that took up the center of your quaint shop. You started working like it was muscle memory. Taking out the ingredients you needed to make dough, cookie batter, pie crust, and pastries. Then you would put the dough in the oven after the fire died down and you brushed the ashes out. Once the dough rose, the pies cooked, and the cookies settled, you took it all out, bringing them to a table that sat right outside your home, where you would stand all day till your stock sold out or the day was over. 

Perhaps you weren’t in such a bad situation after all. 

…

It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new/old life. You learned to accept that you had died, that things would never be the same. One part of you itched for a phone or longed for your tv, but another felt refreshed. You learned to live in the moment, and you felt like you were in a community. You’d greet your usual customers with a beaming smile, joke with the man you’d usually get your meat from, listen to the gossip that everyone and anyone would spread about. 

Everything finally felt like it was falling into place.

Until you met him.

It seemed like any other day. Waking before the crack of dawn to start your chores, setting up shop and waiting for your first customer. New and old faces popped up alike, until one face was all too familiar. You had accepted this was just some random world separate from your own, your body’s memories not bringing up any history lesson you recalled. But he changed everything. Blonde hair that swept to the left, blue eyes that matched the scarf that wrapped around his shoulders, green tunic and hat that made you want to melt and run away at the same time. 

YOU WERE IN A LEGEND OF ZELDA GAME?!

How the hell had you not realized for so long? You were flabbergasted, your merged memories causing you another headache. Oh gosh, this wasn’t even just any Legend of Zelda game. You recognized that scarf and pretty face anywhere. This was Hyrule Warriors. That explains the war, your body recalled. This was just about the worst Legend of Zelda game to be isekai’d into. You willed the Goddesses to take pity on you, but they seemed to be in a joking mood as Link walked straight to your stall. Great.

“I was wondering what smelled so good,” The hero smiled, eyes drifting across the various breads and desserts you were offering. “Heard that your stuff is the best in town.”

“It’s not,” You stated blankly. You were still fighting the urge to run, your fear coming out as indifference. With arms crossed, you squeezed your elbow tightly to get some of your anxious energy out. 

Link blinked at your tone, his stance faltering slightly before he straightened up, “Don’t sell yourself short, I’m sure someone as sweet as you wouldn’t have any trouble cooking up something just as sweet.”

‘Wow that was bad,’ you thought. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating, it could’ve been worse…much worse, but you didn’t want him flirting with you in the first place. 

“Did you want to buy something?” You asked, tilting your head and getting straight to the point.

“Uh, yeah,” Link fumbled, cheeks tinting a light pink. “Just a pumpkin tart, please.”

“That’ll be five rupees,” You told him, picking up the pumpkin tart. You took his blue rupee with ease, handing him the pastry. “Thank you, come again.”

Link was confused to say the least. Typically people would scramble to gain his business, swoon at his kind words, or even try to flirt themselves. You…you looked disinterested…scared even. Have you done something wrong? Why did you seem to avoid his gaze, shoot down his niceties without a second thought? You were strange, but he could take a hint, leaving your stall with a small nod of his head. 

You let out a sigh of relief at that, eying the two girls that were giggling to each other before rushing towards you.

“He talked to you!” Ame squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her curly brown hair bouncing with her every movement. 

“He bought your food!” Fisia exclaimed with a dreamy sigh, blue tunic swaying with her as she shifted side to side. “He’ll see how good of a baker you are and be quick to marry you!”

Your face contorted into a look of disgust, shaking your head vehemently, “Why would I accept? I don’t even know him.” A half lie. You were more worried about the drama that would ensue if Link knew of your origins. 

“Because he’s the captain and a hero!” Fisia cried out like you had cursed all her kin. 

“Not to mention he’s a total dream of a man,” Ame added. “You would be a fool to deny him.” You merely rolled your eyes at their claims. They had a point but you wouldn’t admit that. 

“You act like one meeting has set our future in stone,” You grumbled with a shake of your head. “Are you going to buy something or continue blocking my potential customers?” 

“You’re no fun,” Ame huffed.

“A man who has the potential of changing your entire life comes by and you throw it away,” Fisia glared. “If I were you I would’ve jumped at the opportunity.” 

“You’re still young,” You waved off their complaints. 

“I’m fourteen!” Sniped Fisia. “I’ve already crossed into my womanhood.” You cringed at the thought. Sometimes your blurred memories were a curse as you were forced to watch children married off to adults for social status improvements. 

“Whatever you say,” You let out a resigned sigh.

…

Once again you found your days pass you by. It had been nearly a month since your run in with the fabled hero. You nearly forgot about it, more focused on the smaller aspects of your life. Cleaning clothes, buying groceries, cleaning your house. Life seemed to be a lot simpler here, something you tried not to take for granted. You owned your three story home, something you inherited from your parents. You had a profitable business, you quickly learned bread was life here. No plates, no bowls, bread was used for all that. One thing you will always yearn for is modern plumbing. It felt humiliating going in the nearby river or digging a hole, but everyone did it! Not even an outhouse! You felt like crying at the thought of being able to flush a toilet or wash your hands. 

Point is, as used to this world as you were getting, it still seemed like something would flash back about your old life and remind you of advanced technologies you were missing out on. You shook your head, you needed to focus on the task at hand, picking up groceries for your bakery. Paying for the wheat, honey, and fruits, you hefted the heavy bag onto your shoulder, carrying the other goods in a basket. You made your way back through the crowds, weaving around running children and chattery adults. You nodded towards people you recognized, glaring at those who bumped into you. The sun shone down on you, causing sweat to bead at your hairline. All in a day's work.

“Hey, do you need some help?”

At first you thought you overheard someone’s conversation, it was midday and the market was lively, but then that stupidly handsome face popped into your peripheral and those damned crystal blue eyes were aimed right at you.  “I got it,” You replied easily, shifting the bag to sit a bit more comfortably. You almost thought you caught him pouting…

It doesn’t matter, you could see the door to your bakery just a few feet from you, he would just be hindering you more at this point. Besides, wasn’t he not only a knight, but a captain? Shouldn’t he be busy doing…whatever the hell a captain does? Why did you keep managing to catch him when he was free?

Then you ran into your next predicament. Opening your door. Sure, you could set your bundle of wheat down, open the door, then pick it back up, but that would strain your back terribly. You didn’t have long to come up with a plan as the hero picked up on your predicament.

“I knew I could help somehow,” He grinned smugly with a wink. Frustrated. That’s what you felt when your heart flipped at the gesture. Bad heart. Bad feelings. You were supposed to be avoiding this man not falling for him. You pursed your lips, squeezing the handle of your basket as you pass by Link.

“Thank you,” You acknowledged his gesture with a nod, missing his shocked expression. 

“Any time,” He replied, smile softening just the slightest. 

Your plight had only grown worse from there. 

“He’s coming by more often,” Ame giggled, poking at your shoulder.

“Momma says that the hero’s taken a fancy to ya,” Fisia joined, pushing back a dark strand of hair that fell from her braid, sly grin painting her lips. 

“Shouldn’t you girls be working?” You huffed, cheeks heating up at their implications. “Or are you trying to get a free sweet from me?” 

“Is it working?” Ame asked, Fisia cackling and pushing against her shoulder. 

“You two are going to be the death of me,” You shook your head with a sigh, something you found yourself doing more often than not these days. 

“You know, my papa said food is a way to a man's heart,” Ame pondered after calming down from her laughter. 

“Is that why you’ve been learnin’ more recipes?” You asked, trying to deflect from yourself ever so slightly.

“Mhm,” Ame nodded. “Gotta impress a noble to marry me and I’ll never have to work another day in my life!”

A small chuckle left you at that, “Good luck, it's a noble goal indeed.”

“That’s all the more reason why you should marry Sir Link!” Fisia groans. 

They had been feeding too many ideas into your head. You watched with careful eyes as Link interacted with you, the way he leaned towards you, large smile and soft eyes. It was dangerous to roll the idea of dating Link, the legendary hero, around in your mind. It had become more and more tempting as of late. He had managed to make you laugh more than you’d like to admit and you had to give it to him, he was charming when he wanted to be. But you liked him even more when he was being a total dork, it felt a little more real, like he was finally opening up to you. 

“Seems like I got lucky,” The familiar voice of the one who cursed your thoughts spoke up. 

“One loaf of bread left,” You agreed. “Unless you were craving something sweet.”

“Hmmm,” He hummed while tapping his fingers on the table which currently held your last good before you could close up. An…almost sheepish smile tugged at his lips as his eyes looked everywhere but at you. “Perhaps I could get both?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to clarify exactly what he meant. 

The sun continued to fall, its golden rays lighting up his blonde hair in almost an angelic way. It was getting harder to deny your ever growing attraction towards the knight. The streets weren’t that crowded as people started to call it a day, some heading home, others towards the pubs. You yourself we're looking forward to grabbing a book and reading till it was time to call it a night. 

“I’ll buy your last loaf…” Link started strongly, his confidence wavering a bit as he continued. “And take you out for a drink?”

…

Loud. That was the best way to describe your surroundings. A band was playing lively music as people cheered, sang music, and talked over the noise. The scent of alcohol permeated the space as nearly everyone had a pint of mead. A dish of King’s Chicken sat in front of you, the smells of meaty dishes making your stomach growl. You listened intently as Link told you a funny story from his training days, taking small bites to savor the more expensive end of food he had offered to pay for. As out of depth as you felt, you couldn’t help but feel a bit warm. No, not from the people dancing or the heat from the clay oven. It was a warmth that only the man in front of you could make you feel. Lips split in a smile, a laugh escaping every now and then as he gestured erratically to get his point across. 

You took small sips of your mead, watching Link down his third glass. He seemed a bit nervous, it seemed like he was drinking to take the edge off. You weren’t sure why he kept seeming more and more nervous around you. Sure, you had been a bit standoffish the first few times you met, but you had gradually warmed up to him. How could you not? 

You easily found yourself telling your own story, you had a lot, from bad customers to your own idiocy. You tried to ignore the shy smile that tugged on your lips at the way he leaned towards you, like he was waiting on your every word with bated breath. Your heart fluttered at the sound of his laughter when you said something funny, or how he would scowl when you recalled an irritated customer. You found yourself leaning closer to him as well, excusing it by thinking it was just so you could hear him better. 

This was dangerous. You could tell the alcohol was starting to get to him, dilated eyes never straying from you, cheeks turning a rosy pink, words becoming just the tiniest bit more slurred. It was getting late, you may not be opening up shop tomorrow but you still had household chores to do. You felt a bit fuzzy yourself, barely, but after one pint you had called it enough. 

“I think I should call it a night,” You yawned, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Link offered, stumbling to stand up.

“I think I should be walking you home,” You chuckled, standing up as well. The blonde vehemently shook his head, offering you his elbow. You took it and began to walk out of the pub.

“I wouldn’t be a proper knight if I let that happen,” Link explained. 

“Alright,” You agreed easily with a cheeky smile. 

Stars littered the night sky, many oil lamps snuffed out for the night. The cobblestone streets were dark as you two made your way towards your house. Quiet laughter and teasing remarks filled the air, the odd passer by glaring or piss drunk. As you got closer and closer to your door, you found yourself wishing to hang out with the knight again. 

“Thank you, oh valiant hero, for walking me home,” You grinned.

“Anything for you,” He replied without missing a beat, his words a bit too sincere for your poor heart. You stared at each other, seconds feeling like hours, minutes feeling like days. It was like someone put a spell on you, your eyes tracing his features. His eyebrows were relaxed, a small beauty mark rested under his right eye, his pink lips looked oh so enticing. It seemed the same thought was running through his mind as his hand lifted to hold your cheek, calloused palms brushing against smooth skin.  

“I think I’m in love with you,” Link whispered, the sounds of crickets and frogs the only background noise. You felt your mind short circuit as his face inched closer, the scent of mead invading your nostrils. “Can I?”

You knew you should say no. You both were intoxicated to an extent, you should wait till you were sober…but he was so close to you. His body heat made your mind turn even fuzzier than before, all rational thought slowly leaving as his lips brushed against your own. You gave in, pressing your lips together in a desperate, needy kiss. Link reciprocated with fervor, pushing you against the door of your house gently in contrast to how his teeth bite at your lower lip. 

You suck in a deep breath when you pull away, heart beating erratically as his lips start to trail from your jaw to your neck. You blink rapidly, trying to come back to reality.

“W-wait,” Your breath hitches as he kisses a spot that makes your knees weak. He stops instantly, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. Dear goddesses are you down bad for him. If you thought his eyes were dilated earlier they’re practically a black hole now. “You’re drunk.” You state, gently pushing against his chest to create some space, to try and regain your sanity. 

“It doesn’t make my feelings any less real,” Link murmured, nose brushing against your own sweetly.

“Then tell me tomorrow when our heads are clearer,” You mumble back, caressing his cheek before opening the door and entering your house. “Get home safely.”

…

It had been days. Your stomach felt like it was twisting in knots. Have you done something wrong? Was he sent away on a mission? Was it the kiss? Was it only a drunk induced mistake? You wanted to puke at the thought. You tried to keep busy. Make your goods, buy groceries, wash your clothes, clean your house. Do anything but let the thought of your feelings not being reciprocated rot and fester. 

“We made you somethin’!” Fisia grins as she and Ame run up to your stall. Your desolate expression melts, warming ever so slightly at the girls who you would call friends. 

“And what might that be?” You ask with a small grin.

“A friendship bracelet!” Ame exclaims, holding out a bracelet made of linen string. You felt your heart melt at the gesture, taking the gift and holding it reverently.

“Thank you,” You thanked them genuinely. “This means a lot.”

“We all have matching ones now,” Fisia explains, the two of them showing off their matching bracelets. Ame helped you put it on, the two of them happily comparing their hard work. This was the closest you got to a true moment of respite. 

Of course the goddesses couldn’t let you have the moment for too long. Ame let out a gasp, tugging at Fisia’s tunic and pointing towards your right. Turning your gaze to what could’ve possibly caught their attention you felt your stomach drop. There stood Link who was slowly walking towards you. He kept his head down, hands fiddling with his iconic scarf. 

“You think you can just come back after breaking their heart!” Fisia snarled as she pointed towards the hero. Eyes fell onto the four of you, causing you to shrink at the negative attention. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, was it that obvious you had fallen for him hook line and sinker? Link’s mouth gaped open before shutting tight, he worried his jaw. He looked absolutely racked with guilt.

“I came to apologize,” Link explained, but it felt like your world stopped. You couldn’t hear what he said next, your heart pounding in your ears. This was it. He was going to tell you it was all a mistake and that he didn’t mean any of it. Your breaths felt short, you wanted to run, you didn’t want to face the problem.

It wasn’t till he was standing in front of you, gently shaking your shoulders and calling your name that you snapped out of your panic. You watched him with wide eyes as he looked at you with concern mixed with regret.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Link sighed, forehead resting against your own. “I…I was going to come the next day, but then there was an emergency that I had to attend to and I didn’t have any time to write you a letter…” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I love you. I love you so much it scares me. I, I’d be honored if you’d allow me to court you.”

“I was waiting for you to ask you idiot,” You huffed, biting back any more scathing remarks in favor of pulling the hero into another, this time sober, kiss. So absorbed in your own little world, full of relief of happiness that your feelings truly were reciprocated that you didn’t hear the squeals of Ame and Fisia, or the whispers of the other towns folk who watched on. Link didn’t seem to mind either, pulling you flush against him as he savored the taste of your lips on his own. 

Perhaps you should thank whoever hit you, as you wouldn’t be in this situation without them.

[librarygarten]

Isekai! Reader's Hear Me Outs

The boys have a bet. You're determined to punish them for roping you into it. (Based on the Hear Me Out Cake trend. All characters were submitted by you lovely readers.)

“You grew up playing our games, right?” Wind asks. He has a mischievous smile on his face. “Who’s your favorite?”

“Aww, I could never choose my favorite Link. You nine are all equally a pain in the butt!” You laugh and ruffle Wind’s hair. It’s not even a lie, really. Sure, you prefer some games over others, but how could you possibly choose a favorite?

“Come on, spill!” Legend pipes up, “I got money on this!” Ah. So that was what this was all about. Glancing around, you’re disappointed to see that all the Links are listening in, no doubt all part of the betting pool.

“I mean it. Find someone else to rope into your gambling addiction.” You shake your head at the boys’ antics.

“What about other people?” Hyrule smiles innocently, “what other… uh, characters were your favorite?” It’s an innocent question, but you know it’s dark motive. The boys would simply tally how many people from their games you liked and declare that game the winner. Fine. If that’s how they wanted to be.

“I mean. I had a crush on Beedle when I was in middle school.”

“That guy that likes bugs?” Wild, Wind, and Sky all ask at the same time. They look between each other, surprised for a moment. You can see the gears turning in their heads. How on earth were they supposed to count that? One point each? Unless you meant only one of the Beedles?

“Yeah. He would love me if I was a worm.” You nod sagely, as if the boys would have any idea what that meant.

“Interesting taste.” Warriors snorts, “Any others we should know about? Maybe we can introduce you when we visit our eras.” He elbows your side playfully, but over his shoulder, you can see Four trying to sneakily add tally marks to a piece of paper. They were keeping score. Time to have some fun.

“The King of Red Lions. Boat form.”

“WHAT.” Wind gawks. “Y/N. Y/N, that’s a boat.”

“That’s not even the worst one.” You grin evilly. “I was a very cringe child.”

“What could be worse than having a crush on a literal boat?” Sky grimaces. You think for a moment.

“Batreaux. When he’s a bat. Oh, and Ghirahim, but I think that’s just a given.”

“I’m sorry I even asked.” He cringes.

“Let’s see… who else?” You rack your brain, trying to come up with characters that you had a crush on. There were honestly too many to count. What can you say? Nintendo makes some fine men.

“I’m almost scared to know.” Wild smirks, clearly having fun with this. Oh, that reminds you.

“The Satori was pretty cute.” You say, and Wild falls off the stump he had been perched on.

“The Lord of the Mountain!?” He sputters, “Y/N that’s a GOD.”

“Eh, he’s not the first deity I had a crush on.” You wave your hand dismissively.

“What other deity did you have a crush on?” Sky raises an eyebrow. As the resident Hylia-“enjoyer” he would question you, wouldn’t he?

“Chill, dude. I don’t have a crush on your girlfriend.” Before his cheeks have time to turn pink you continue. “I was talking about Fierce Deity.”

Time begins choking on his own spit. Warriors pats him on the back, but gives you a look somewhere between disgust and disappointment.

“Don’t give me that look!” You cry. “I haven’t even started talking about all the hot villains! You’ll have plenty of time to look at me like that once I actually give you a reason to!”

“Hot villains? Don’t tell me you had a crush on Ganon.” Hyrule wrinkles up his nose in disgust.

“Of course not!” You put a hand on your chest, as if offended by the implication. “I have standards, Rulie.”

“...”

“Ganondorf on the other hand…”

“Please stop.” Hyrule grimaces.

“Y/N. Please tell me you had a crush on one normal person.” Legend begs.

“Does the Happy Mask Salesman count?” You smile. “I love his little laugh.”

“No. No it does not and you know that.” Time sighs and buries his face in his hands.

“Rusl?”

“No! He’s like my dad!” Twilight gasps. He looks personally offended. What? It’s not your fault Twi’s father figure had you saying daddy.

“Fine,” you sigh, “what about Vaati? He’s cute. That’s not weird, right?”

“Which version of Vaati?” Four sounds tired. He has long since given up trying to record your answers for whatever bet the boys had tried using you for.

“...”

“Y/N. Which version of Vaati?”

“...I think you know it’s not his Minish or Hylian form.” You laugh. Four, like Time, buries his face in his hands.

“Okay, surely you have one person that isn’t a boat or a god or a monster.” Legend rubs his temples. Are your antics giving him a headache? Serves him right, you suppose.

“Oh! Do Dark Link or Shadow Link count as normal crushes? They’re cute.” You explain. Four and Time both shoot their heads up, their faces bright pink.

“You had a crush on DARK LINK!?!” Twilight sputters, “As in, the guy that’s been dragging us across time? The guy that stabbed me???”

“That was before I knew him.” You grimace at the reminder of Twi’s wound. Unfortunately, the moment of silence is short-lived.

“Wait, does this mean I won the bet?” Four’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are still dusted pink, but he seems a bit smug now, too. Shoot. Why had you said Shadow Link was cute? That’s basically calling Four cute, too!

“Actually, I think it goes to Time.” Legend counts out on his fingers, trying to remember all the… interesting… comments you had made. “They listed the Fierce Deity and Dark Link.”

“Dang it.” You groan, a blush creeping into your own face.

“You should know better than to try and stop our betting pools, Y/N.” Warriors winks as he collects a rather large pouch from Wind.

“I hate every single one of you.”

Honorable Mentions that I couldn't find a good place to add:

Lizalfos

Daruk

Zora’s Mask Link (Mikau)

Demise

Volga

The freaking Deku Tree????

Raru & Sonia

[rileyclaw]

you're nEVER going to guess who's alive!!! (me). I dont think I've logged into this site for at least a full year my BAD gang I was in the TRENCHES

I'm readvertising here for 2025 as I was just in a pretty un-fun car crash and definitely do not have the money to cover it (as my insurance will not fix my car), so I'm offering up any commission!

I also take custom feline design commissions (for you warrior catters out there) and animatic/PMV commissions, which I can whip up an estimate for if you reach out to my at my e-mail: rileyclaw.art@gmail.com!

Reblogs or shared are super appreciated, thank you!

(also a link to my ko-fi here, incase!)

[jabberwocky-warrior]

A Fan favorite HC for Malleus is him giving you jewels/gifts made from items in his horde. i agree that he definitely does, but i feel we're forgetting something else.

He probably has some of his mother's jewelry.

I think you'd have to be engaged/married before he'd give you anything. But imagine he proposes with his mother's ring. on your wedding day, you're wearing one of her crowns. (i don't think gender matters with the way the crowns styled)

I'd think most of Melanor's belongings are owned by the royal family with only some specifically personal items given to malleus. Same with his dad's things.

I'd think this would be a big deal for everyone but Mallificia especially. Maybe the way she shows her approval of you is through letting you use some of the items she's kept from her daughter. Or having the royal seamstresses rework some of melanor's old clothes into something for you. Same with reverne's clothes.

I think this would also go for more then just jewelry/clothes.

I HC, his dad was also a book nerd/scholarly type. If you're into reading, he gifts you one of his father's favorite books. While you're studying to become Malleus's consort, he lends you Reverne's notes from when he had to study the same things.

I feel like one of the biggest shows of love is letting you use his parents items. The last things he has to remember them.

I don't think lilia would give you anything physical. Instead he shares the most important thing to him. Memories. Lilia will sit with you for hours telling you stories of your future-in-laws. All the stories he can remember of malleus' youth and of the Draconia family in general.

[legendofmorons]

Little acts of affection the boys give you - blurbs

Sometimes, you just don't have the time for big or long acts of affection when you're traveling with the chain or working. That dosen’t mean the boys don't still show affection

This is written as romantic, so no Wind this time.

Four - linking pinkies

Four falls into step with you as your group pushes through the busy market street. His presence is always something that is welcome.

"Hey," he says as he hooks his pinkie with your own. "Is this okay?"

"This is perfect," you smile at him a little.

Hyrule - secret smiles

It's in the middle of packing up camp to get ready to leave for the day that you meet Hyrule's gaze. He stands across camp, helping Legend but his eyes meet yours anyway and he gives you a soft, warm, adoring smile.

His smile is the one he only uses for you. The gentle curve never fails to make your heart warm.

You aren't sure anyone else sees the smile, but it isn't meant for them anyway.

Legend - fixing clothes/ accessories

It's early when you leave the inn, a yawn still seems to linger somewhere deep in your bones. The sun is still rising to be fully in the sky as you and your group head out to talk to the locals.

"Wait," Legend says as he takes your hand in his so you don't go too far.

You turn to him, blinking a little at the furrow in his brows. "Ledge?"

He reaches out and fixes the cloak on your shoulders so it lays more comfortably and the clip is more secure. He gives a soft smile you aren't sure he knows he wears. "There. Better?"

"Yes."

Sky - tucking you in

Your slumber releases you just enough to feel someone pulling the blanket back up your lax form, tucking you in just so. The night breezes brushes against your face lightly.

"Hope you're having good dreams, sunshine," Sky's voice says in a quiet and fond tone.

You aren't awake enough to answer, but you can't help the vague fluttery feeling in your chest. This feeling only grows when a soft kiss is given to your forehead.

Time - leaving notes

You find the note in your bag as you dig throughout it for your tooth brush. It's a little note but you know who it's from before you read it.

'You looked like you had a lot of fun at the lake today, I hope you sleep well. If you need me at all feel free to come get me. I'm sorry we aren't sharing a rooms this time. If you'd meet me early for breakfast I'd love that bit if you need more sleep I understand. Sweet dreams - Link'

Of course 'Link' is your lover Time. He's so sweet to you. Even now, when he's watching over a hurt Sky, he takes steps to make sure you know he cares.

Twilight - forehead kisses

You sit on a log beside Wild as the champion cooks, warming yourself as you admire the fireflies in the distance. Dinner smells amazing, like it often does when Wild cooks.

Twilight comes over and drops a kiss to your forehead with a smile, standing to your right just a bit. "Hey, darlin'."

"Hey yourself," you grin up at him.

He laughs a little, that deep voice a delight like always.

Warriors - giving you a blanket

The cold creeps through your several layers against your wishes as you sit as close to the fire as you dare. Snow flutters outside the window of the inn room but you can't take being around many people now so in your room it is.

A blanket settles around your shoulders as Warriors sits beside you with his own blanket. He dosen’t speak, but he offers you a real and gentle smile.

You lean your head against his shoulder, "Thanks."

Wild - playing with your fingers

You lounge against a tree with Wild between your legs and leaning back against you. Your hand rests in both of his.

Wild plays with your fingers gently, careful of any sore knuckles or bruises that may cause distress. Any rings are frosting on the cake as he uses the time to slowly commit the lines and marks of your hand to memory.

He never wants to forget any piece of you. Ever.

[quarterlifekitty]

I'm begging with all the devotion I can muster PLEASSEEEEEE write part two for the goddess reader its such a unique creative concept that was written so well for being so short the people NEED it thank you for your service 🙏🏽

here's a little something something. Also, not really a content warning, but I feel the need to mention: I write intimacy/romance like a freak

cw: non-graphic sexual intimacy, mentioned death of a child

You can only appear to your devoted one through significant offerings. Trapped in the realm of the gods, you are powerless for as long as you lay forgotten by mankind. You tell König that his love is what gives you power.

His usual gifts to you are fruits and jewelry. At the end of his battles, he collects the gear of the fallen– armor, weapons, shields– and has it all melted down. He commissions the best craftsmen to create delicate chains, cameos in your image, beautiful bangles engraved with processions of animals. Rabbits are his favorite to adorn your altar with– representing luck, quickness, numbers… fertility.

His favorite piece for you is a hair pin. He had it made from the guard of a sword he pulled from some foreign noble– embedded with small jewels and molded leaves. He loves to see it glitter in the light as you turn to see him with that inspiring smile when he comes to visit.

Your temple features an impluvium– a tiled pool for catching rainwater. It’s purified from your influence, he’s drank from it many times. And one day, he sees your stolla neatly draped on your pedestal. Gold and silver are the only things decorating your ample form as you relax in the cool water, beckoning him forth like a nymph. He’s never shed his things more quickly.

He’s had women before. Paid women. Women whose time had a price– who wanted him to take what he wanted and leave quickly. He’s an efficient man, and it was never a problem for him, he understood that there was no room for true intimacy in a brothel.

You treat König to something so different it’s almost antithetical. It’s tantric, cool and warm at the same time, as many square inches of your skin pressed to his as possible. You are entwined. He could swear his flesh feels wedded to yours. To part from you would be death– to be alone in his own body.

The last time a person’s touch made him feel beautiful, he was a boy holding the hand of a girl, the young daughter of the man who owned the farm his family worked on. They were children when she died. He has felt robbed, alone, and abandoned ever since. You crack him open by the sternum and climb in between his ribs the same way that she once did. He would die for you and fight his way back from the underworld to die for you again.

[gliphyartfan]

Scenario where we stray a little to close and die in battle. Everyone is grieving, only for Time to grab all his boys and play the Ocarina of Time, bringing them back in time to like that morning well before the battle. Everyone is gushing and relived out of their mind all while we’re super confused and panicking because “why does everyone look like they went through HELL?! You all looked fine a second ago why are half of you injured?!?!”

I tried to make this a hint funny but quite frankly, those boys wouldn’t make even the slightest effort to smile after such a tragedy.

Anywho~ let’s begin!

——-

The battle had been dragging on too long.

They were too close to camp, too close to where (y/n) was supposed to be safe. The usual chaos of fighting monsters had turned into something coordinated, attacks coming in waves, blocking off paths, forcing them to keep moving rather than pushing back.

Something wasn’t right.

Then they heard it.

A scream.

(Y/n)’s scream.

Wild and Legend ran.

They didn’t hesitate, didn’t call out to the others, didn’t stop to think. Their feet moved before their minds could catch up, hearts slamming against their ribs like they were already too late.

(Y/n) should be safe. They should be fine. That scream shouldn’t have happened.

Please be safe.

Please be okay.

Please—

A monstrous roar cut through the air, deep and furious, shaking the ground beneath them.

The camp was in sight.

It was wrecked.

Torn fabric from their tents flapped uselessly in the wind, supplies were scattered and broken, blood smeared the dirt like something had been dragged—

And standing in the middle of it all was a Lynel.

(How. HOW did they not notice such a beast?! to think it got so CLOSE to camp!!)

Huge. Breathing heavy. Sword dripping red.

Wild and Legend didn’t need to search for (y/n).

They were there.

Collapsed. Motionless.

Blood pooling beneath them.

Their hair was covering most of their face, but from here—Wild could still see their eyes.

Wide. Unmoving.

No.

No.

No, no, no, NO—

Wild’s body reacted before his mind did, a sound ripping from his throat, something raw and enraged and desperate. He charged, drawing his weapons as he moved, his body running on instinct, on muscle memory, on rage.

Lynels. He knew how to kill them. He knew their movements, their patterns, their weaknesses.

And he was going to tear this one apart.

Legend barely noticed.

He was already on his knees beside (y/n), hands shaking as he scrambled for whatever potions he had left, pouring them onto their wounds, pressing down with trembling fingers.

Too much blood.

Too deep.

Too still.

“(Y/n)?” His voice cracked. “Hey, hey, come on. Stay with me.” His hands pressed harder, his magic flickering between his fingers as he tried, tried, tried to heal them. “You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine. You have to be fine.”

No response.

Their chest wasn’t moving.

He wasn’t losing them.

He wasn’t.

“Please, please, don’t do this.” he whispered, his fingers gripping too tight, as if he could physically keep them here.

As if he could stop them from slipping away.

Wild was still fighting, hacking, killing. The Lynel barely had time to react before he was tearing it apart, his strikes vocious, his movements fueled by something beyond anger.

But Legend didn’t look up.

His entire world had narrowed down to (y/n).

And those unseeing eyes.

——-

——

The battlefield behind them was eerily quiet, the last of the monsters taken care of. But there was no relief. No victory. Just a sick feeling crawling up their spines, twisting their stomachs.

They quickly followed the path Wild and Legend had taken, weapons still drawn, bodies tense. They felt something was wrong before they even saw it.

Then they reached the camp.

And the world stopped.

Wild was still hunched over his blade, tbe Lynel collapsing from the final stroke through it’s head, Wild’s breath ragged, blood, his or its, no one knew, dripping from his blade.

His eyes were wild, teeth bared, the rage that had driven him still bubbling beneath the surface. But he wasn’t moving.

Legend was crouched beside (y/n, arms clutching them close, his expression twisted with desperation.

And then there was (y/n).

Still. Too still.

The blood around them was so much.

No one spoke. The air was thick with a suffocating silence, as if even breathing too loud would make this, this awful, sickening nightmare, more real.

Hyrule was the first to move.

A single step. Then another.

Then he was running.

He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands already glowing with the familiar light of his Life Spell, fingers trembling as he pressed his hands to their skin.

The magic flared.

Then sputtered.

Didn’t take.

His breath hitched.

“No-” His voice cracked as he pushed more, pleading with the magic, with them. ‘Nonononono…”

The others started moving, drawn in like gravity itself was pulling them toward the only one that mattered to them. Slowly, cautiously, terrified.

One by one, they gathered around, forming a tight circle, as if their presence alone could keep you here.

No one said anything at first. There was nothing to say.

Twilight hovered close, hands clenching and unclenching, like he was barely holding himself together. Sky was shaking, his entire body rigid, fists curled so tight they were white. Warriors swallowed thickly, his usual composure gone, replaced with something raw and unreadable.

Wind’s lips were pressed together, his expression tight, angry in the way one locke in denial and grief often is. Four’s fingers twitched at his sid, his eyes locked onto (y/n)’s like looking away would make this worse.

Time was silent, his face unreadable but his hands shaking at his sides.

Someone, maybe Sky, let out a quiet, broken sound.

Then Warriors knelt beside (y/n), one hand gripping their shoulder, his voice hoarse. “Hey. Hey, come on.”

Like he was expecting them to just open their eyes and tell everyone this was all some cruel joke.

Like they’d wake up if he just held on tight enough.

Legend had stopped speaking altogether, his shoulders shaking as he bit down on his lip so hard it nearly bled.

Hyrule’s magic flared again, fighting to work, his breathing harsh.

“Please…” he whispered.

The others stayed so still, the air around them too fragile, as if any wrong move would send it all shattering into something worse.

They couldn’t lose them.

They…they simply couldn’t.

—-

—-

Time stood frozen, staring down at their still body. The world around him felt distant, the sounds muffled, like he was underwater, like he was drowning.

His breath came fast, shallow, the rush of blood roaring in his ears, drowning out everything else. His heart slammed against his ribs, a relentless pounding that rattled through his chest.

It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in so long.

Like he was a child again.

Like he was powerless.

He had spent his entire life fighting against fate, defying it, clawing his way through trials no one should have to endure.

He had walked through time itself, lived two lifetimes, shouldered the burden of Hyrule’s expectations. He had worn a mask that turned him into something beyond mortal, something that should have made him strong enough to protect what mattered.

And then that Sorcerersss had dragged him and many others into that war, he had fought alongside other legends, both old and new, had witnessed firsthand what it meant to lead, to command, to win.

He had survived all of it.

And yet here he was, standing over their body, feeling helpless.

His hands clenched at his sides, trembling.

No.

No, this wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

They were supposed to be safe.

He had watched over them, he had promised.

His vision blurred, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

It wasn’t supposed to be them.

He should have been faster.

Should have been stronger.

Should have-

He took a step forward, his foot landing in the pool of blood. Their blood.

His stomach twisted violently, bile rising in his throat.

He couldn’t do this again.

Not another person. Not them.

The others had gathered around now, their grief tangible, suffocating. Hyrule was desperately pushing his magic into them, his hands glowing too bright, his breaths too fast.

Time felt himself sway slightly, like the weight of it all was pressing down on him, crushing him.

A quiet voice, from somewhere deep inside, from the child he had buried long ago, whispered, Not again. Not again. Not again.

And yet—

They weren’t moving.

The world felt too small, like it was closing in, like his ribs were collapsing in on themselves.

He could hear Sky muttering something under his breath, Warriors pressing down harder on their shoulder, like he could just shake them back awake.

Wild was still kneeling beside the Lynel’s corpse, his body hunched over, his entire frame shaking with something between rage and despair.

And Legend was curled over them, his head bowed, his shoulders trembling.

Time forced himself to breathe, forcing back the panic, the nausea.

He couldn’t afford to break down.

Not now.

Not here.

Because if he let himself slip, if he let himself grieve, it would be admitting that they were already gone.

Time barely noticed when his hands started to shake.

His breathing was uneven, shallow, like he couldn’t get enough air. His heart hammered in his chest, erratic and painful. His mind was slipping, too many thoughts at once, too many emotions clashing and screaming inside him.

His fingers curled, nails digging into his palms, his hands trembling so violently that he could barely control them. He needed to do something, needed to act, needed to fix this-

His hand brushed against something within one of his pouches.

Smooth. Familiar.

His breath hitched. His fingers twitched, hesitant, before reaching in and slowly pulling it free.

He held it with both hands, staring down at it like it was something foreign, something he didn’t recognize. But he did. Of course, he did. (Was this disassociation?)

This was his.

This was a power he desperately needed.

His vision blurred, he wasn’t sure if it was from grief, from desperation, from the pressure crushing down on him. But his mind… his mind was erratic, scattered, racing in a dozen different directions.

To undo.

To change.

His breath came faster, harsher.

What if he could undo this?

His grip tightened on the ocarina, knuckles going white, his entire body trembling.

He could fix this.

He could make it right.

He could bring them back.

His heartbeat pounded so loud it drowned out everything else.

He lifted the ocarina to his lips, fingers poised, ready to play.

Only for a hand to grab his arm and yank it away.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Twilight’s voice was raw, edged with something frantic and desperate. His grip on Time’s arm was bruising, fingers digging in as though physically stopping him would undo the sheer horror of the moment.

Time barely turned his head, the motion sluggish, his mind still caught in a haze of grief and erratic thoughts.

Twilight’s chest heaved, his breath ragged, eyes wild. “You-You can’t just-” He choked, his voice catching like the words physically fought him to leave his throat.

Warriors was there too, stepping in, his face tense, unreadablex but there was a sharpness in his gaze as he stared down at the instrument in Time’s hands.

Twilight’s grip on Time tightened. “You don’t—You don’t get to play that song! You don’t get to—” He cut himself off, his breath hitching as he visibly struggled to get his words under control. “That song—it means—”

He stopped again, shaking his head furiously, his grip still locked on Time like he was terrified of letting go.

Time exhaled, slow, measured. “This is the only way..”

His voice was steady, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t the leader of the Chain speaking, it was something worn. Something dangerously close to the child he had long since buried.

But Twilight barely heard him.

“You don’t get to just—You don’t get to—!”

His hands curled into fists, his breathing was shallow, his body was locked so tight he looked like he was on the verge of breaking into pieces.

He couldn’t say it.

Couldn’t say the word.

Because if he said it, it would be real.

And he didn’t want it to be real.

Twilight was unraveling. He felt himself unraveling, his body too tight, too tense, like if he let go for even a second, he’d completely fall apart. His breath was coming in short, panicked bursts, his throat tight with something raw and unbearable. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, gripping Time’s tunic like it was the only thing keeping him standing.

“You—” Twilight’s voice cracked, his words slipping out, desperate and broken. “You can’t just—You don’t get to do this, Time!”

Time remained still. His expression unreadable. His hands, tight around the ocarina, steady in a way Twilight’s weren’t.

“Twilight.”

It was calm. Too calm. Like he was trying to soothe a cornered animal.

It only made Twilight’s breathing worse.

“No! Don’t—don’t say my name like that! Like you—like you know something I don’t! Like you’ve already decided—” His chest was heaving, his grip tightening before loosening again, his body betraying him, caught between fight and collapse. “You think you can just play that song and..and—” His voice broke, “They’re NOT gone, Time, you can’t just act like their soul needs peace! T…They’re just—” He shook his head, “they aren’t gone, they..they need help! ..w-we need to find a healer! A fairy! S-someone who can…can...”

A beat of silence.

Then—

Time exhaled and looked properly at Twilight.

And Twilight froze.

His whole body locked up, something primal inside of him screaming run but keeping him rooted in place at the same time.

He’d seen that gaze before. Seen it on him, when the moon was full and seemingly burning and the weight of something much older, much more terrifying, resting against his shoulders. White. Cold. Empty.

Not human.

Twilight’s breath hitched. His grip on Time’s arm vanished, hands falling away, shaking as he stumbled a step back.

Time’s voice didn’t waver.

“I will fix this.”

The words settled over them like a death sentence.

Final. Unwavering.

Twilight couldn’t move. He felt paralyzed, his whole body fighting between panic and something almost instinctual, something telling him that this wasn’t his mentor, this wasn’t the man he knew.

The air was thick with something they couldn’t name.

Then—

“How can you fix THIS?”

Legend.

His voice was sharp but quiet, words slow, careful, as if afraid of the answer.

His bloodied hands were still on (y/n), fingers curled, knuckles white. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, his face pale, his body unmoving.

And he was staring at Time.

So were the others now. Minus Wild who remained on his knees where he was.

Time’s grip on the ocarina never wavered.

He was looking ahead, staring at something they couldn’t see.

Then—

“What are you about to do?” Legend asked.

“..The Song of Time.”

The words left Warrior’s lips before he could even think to stop them.

And then everyone was looking at him now, including Wild.

every single one of them turned to Time in a split second.

Because they knew what that meant.

Time’s fingers tightened around the ocarina.

“You—” Warriors took a step forward, “You were going to play the Song of Time?”

Time said nothing. He just looked at him.

And that was enough.

Hyrule’s breath hitched. “Wait—wait, could he—”

“Twilight jerked like he’d been hit, his mind finally catching up to the weight of what was happening.

“You—” his voice cracked, “You were going to undo this? You weren’t…?”

Time finally blinked. The weight in his gaze lessened just enough for Twilight to suck in a sharp, shuddering breath.

But Time still didn’t waver.

“I will fix this.” He said it again.

Warriors’ breath was uneven, his mind racing, hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to rip that damn ocarina from Time’s grasp.

But he didn’t.

Because deep down, some part of him wanted to believe.

He swallowed hard. “Will it work?”

Time’s fingers curled tighter around the ocarina. His jaw tensed, his throat bobbing as he exhaled slow. “It will.”

And that was it.

That was all he said.

That shouldn’t have been enough.

But the way he said it, steady, certain, absolute,’like the sky was blue, like fire was hot, like the sun would rise tomorrow-

It made the air heavy.

It made belief an inevitability.

Sky’s breath hitched. “But—”

“How do you know?!” Wind cut in, shaking, desperate.. “How do you know it’ll be far enough?!”

“What if it only sends us back before the battle?” Wild snapped, voice raw. “We’d be dragging the beasts right to them! What if it doesn’t change anything? What if we just—” He broke off, his whole body trembling, his fingers digging into his arms like he was holding himself together with sheer force of will.

Time’s gaze flicked to him.

Then to Wind.

Then to Warriors.

To Twilight.

To everyone.

“It will.”

Like this wasn’t a question.

Like it was already decided.

Legend exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “And if you’re wrong?”

Time didn’t answer.

Because he wasn’t.

Because the idea that he could be was never an option.

Not when it came to (y/n).

Never when it came to that one person.

“Time-“ Twilight’s voice cracked, his whole body tensed, barely keeping himself from shaking apart. “Do you even know how far it’ll—”

“I do.”

Twilight flinched.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forceful.

But it was final.

It was a fact.

Like the way he breathed. Like the way he fought.

Like the way he had always been the Hero of Time.

This would work.

Because it had to.

“Now gather close, or you will be left behind.”

Time didn’t wait for another argument.

Didn’t give them another second to question him, to hesitate.

He just pressed the ocarina to his lips and played.

The first note rang out, trembling through the air, and the world shifted.

The melody poured from him like second nature, each note pulling at something unseen, unraveling the fabric of reality, tugging at the very threads of time itself.

The air around him hummed, thick with power, and he barely noticed when the others moved closer. Whether it was instinct or trust or sheer desperation, he didn’t know. Didn’t care.

All that mattered was the song.

All that mattered was fixing this.

The ground beneath him vanished. The sky unraveled like ink spilling across parchment. He was falling, weightless, the notes still lingering in the air as time itself bent.

And he knew this feeling.

Had lived this feeling.

He was used to it, the way time peeled away like layers of an old tapestry, the way the past reached up to swallow him whole.

But the others-

Some of them gasped, sharp and breathless, the weight of the shift hitting them like a punch to the gut. Some gritted their teeth, held onto each other, held onto him.

But Time didn’t focus on them.

Didn’t let himself get distracted.

Because there was only the song.

Only the pull of time wrenching them backward, dragging them through the currents of the past, demanding they return to where they were supposed to be.

He felt the moment it worked.

The moment the world clicked back into place.

And when his boots hit solid ground againc when the weight of his body settled into the morning light, into the world that had not yet seen blood,

He exhaled.

And opened his eyes.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

The morning sun filtered through the trees, golden and warm, birds chirping in the distance like nothing had changed—like everything hadn’t changed.

The smell of cooking drifted through the air, something light and familiar, the scent of simmering stew bubbling away in the pot that Wild—the past Wild—had left unattended just moments ago.

The camp was… whole.

No shattered remains of their tents, no bloodstains in the dirt, no lingering stench of burnt wood and monster corpses.

No… (y/n) lying broken on the ground.

Time let out a slow breath, calm and steady, as if this was exactly what he’d expected. And it was.

He knew it would work.

The others, though…

They were stiff, wary, shifting in place like the ground might give out beneath them at any second.

Legend was rubbing at his face, as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion that still clung to him. Wild was staring at the bubbling stew like it was some kind of hallucination.

Twilight stood a little ways off, staring at his hands, clenching and unclenching them like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Warriors was the first to speak. His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from all the shouting and grief of before, of a future that no longer existed.

“…We actually did it…” he muttered, like he barely believed it.

Wind swallowed hard. He looked down at his boots, scuffed and dirty from the battle that technically hadn’t happened yet. “We’re still—” He hesitated, gesturing at himself. At all of them. “Like this.”

Blood. Dirt. Scrapes and bruises from a fight that hadn’t even started. Evidence of what they’d just lived through, proof that it had been real.

That (y/n) had been-

Time exhaled slowly.

“It doesn’t matter.” His voice was even, firm. Grounding. “We’re here.”

He didn’t need to say why.

Didn’t need to remind them of what they needed to do next.

Because their heads all turned, almost in unison, toward the only tent still closed up for the morning.

The one where (y/n) was still asleep.

Still safe.

Still alive.

For a long, long moment, no one moved.

They just stood there, frozen in place, staring at the closed tent.

The urge to rush forward was almost unbearable, like a rope yanking at their chests, but no one made the first move.

It was too much.

The blood was still fresh in their memories. The sight of (y/n) lying there, unmoving, unbreathing—

They couldn’t go through that again.

So they stood there, tense and waiting, barely breathing.

And then—

Soft murmurs. A sleepy sigh. Rustling blankets.

The sounds hit them, sharp and painful in a way they couldn’t describe, their hearts all slamming against their ribs as the tent flaps finally shifted—

And (y/n) crawled out, rubbing their eyes, hair a mess, voice groggy as they blinked up at the group.

“…Mornin’,” they mumbled, completely oblivious to the way everyone stared.

No blood. No pain. No lifeless eyes staring up at them.

Just… sleepy, alive (y/n), squinting at them like they were the weird ones.

They yawned. “You guys okay?”

No one answered.

Because no one could breathe.

It was Hyrule who moved first.

Slow, cautious, like he was afraid to startle them. His hands trembled as he reached out, fingers barely ghosting over (y/n)’s arms, their shoulders, their face—checking for wounds that weren’t there anymore.

It was like his body was working faster than his mind, the overwhelming need to confirm pushing him forward before he could even think about it.

And then, as if his movement snapped a thread holding everyone back, the others surged forward.

They were on (y/n) in seconds, surrounding them, crowding close, hands reaching and grasping, pulling them into checks and touches that were both frantic and careful.

(Y/n) barely had time to react before they were trapped in a wall of bodies, everyone brushing over their arms, their back, their face—looking for injuries that didn’t exist.

“What— guys, what the hell—?” (Y/n) yelped, blinking fast as they suddenly registered how dirty everyone was.

Blood. Scrapes. Dirt smeared over their clothes and skin, like they’d been through something.

Like they’d just come back from a war.

(Y/n)’s breath hitched, their drowsiness vanishing.

“What happened to you guys?” Their voice was cautious now, eyes darting between the wild, desperate looks on their faces.

No one answered right away.

They were too busy touching them, reassuring themselves, trying to make sure this wasn’t some cruel trick—

That (y/n) was here. Alive. Whole.

Time, standing back from the chaos, finally let out a breath.

It worked.

——

——

It took a while for things to settle down.

At first, (y/n) was just confused,rightfully so. One minute they were crawling out of the tent, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, and the next, they were practically being smothered by the Chain.

And not in the usual overprotective way.

This was different.

It was desperate.

It took a lot of reassurance,(y/n) reluctantly eating breakfast while Wild kept glancing up like they’d disappear if he looked away, Warriors and Legend hovering nearby, and Twilight sticking close as if physically shielding them from something,before the group finally got moving.

Time made the call.

They weren’t staying here.

(Y/n) didn’t get why,nothing seemed wrong, their camp was fine, their usual routine untouched,but there was no arguing with him. He wasn’t going to change his mind.

So they packed up and left.

They moved far,not stopping until the area around them was completely unfamiliar, setting up camp in a much safer place, where there were no signs of monster dens, no ruins where enemies could be lurking, nothing.

And still, the paranoia remained.

No one relaxed.

Even after the fire was lit, even after dinner was done, even after everyone was settled in for the night, there was an edge to the air. Like the whole group was waiting for something.

(Y/n) had questions. So many questions.

But the longer they stared at the exhausted, shaken faces around them, the more they decided they didn’t want the answers just yet.

Eventually, one by one, the others turned in for the night. Even if they wouldn’t truly rest, they at least tried to pretend to.

(Y/n) was in their tent, laying down, half-expecting Twilight or Wild to come and insist on sharing their bedroll like they sometimes did when they got particularly clingy—

But instead, it was Time.

They blinked as the tent flap shifted, his tall form stepping inside. He moved slow, deliberate, like he was testing the space between them.

(Y/n) sat up, eyebrows raising.

“Uh… hey?” They greeted cautiously. “Something wrong?”

Time didn’t answer right away.

He just looked at them.

Really looked at them.

Like he was memorizing them all over again.

(Y/n) shifted under the weight of it, that unsettled feeling creeping back into their gut.

“… Time?”

Time sat down next to them without a word.

Not across from them, not a small distance away—right next to them, close enough that (y/n) could feel the slight shift in the bedroll beneath them.

He was silent.

Not just the usual quiet, the comfortable, thoughtful kind of silence Time carried.

This was heavy.

Thick.

Suffocating.

(Y/n) shifted awkwardly, the unease crawling up their spine. The others had been acting strange all day, but Time’s presence right now felt even worse. Like the weight of a storm about to break, something pressing down on them, making their stomach churn.

They hesitated.

Then, quietly, “Time… what’s going on?”

Still, he didn’t speak.

Didn’t even move.

Just sat there, shoulders stiff, hands clasped loosely together.

(Y/n) swallowed, forcing a nervous chuckle.

“Okay, you’re really starting to freak me out, old man. Did something happen?”

Finally, Time exhaled, slow and steady.

“…Something happened.”

(Y/n) perked up a little. “Yeah?”

Time nodded.

“I fixed it.”

(Y/n) blinked.

“…What?”

Another pause.

(Y/n) narrowed their eyes, the hairs on the back of their neck standing on end.

“Fixed what? What—”

“Don’t.”

The firm edge in Time’s voice startled them into silence.

It wasn’t a command.

It wasn’t an order.

It was a plea.

Time turned his head slightly, his jaw clenched, his good eye dark in the dim light of the tent.

“If you keep asking me…” he said, voice low, slow, measured, “I will tell you.”

(Y/n) stared.

He swallowed, his hands tightening into fists against his knees.

“And I don’t want to tell you…” He admitted, not wanting to te them how they all failed in protecting them. How their blood pooled beneath their cold body.. “So please… don’t ask me.”

(Y/n) felt their pulse in their throat.

Something was wrong.

The others had been acting strange, paranoid. Wild had barely let them breathe all morning. The whole group had been on edge, even after they had moved camp.

And now Time was sitting beside them, heavy and tired and quietly begging them not to dig any further.

(Y/n) licked their lips, their voice small.

“…Was it that bad?”

Time inhaled sharply.

His fingers twitched.

His mind flickered back-

The torn camp.

The blood.

(Y/n), limp and still, their lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

Time closed his eye.

“…Yes.”

(Y/n) barely had time to process the answer before they found themselves moving.

Their body acted before their mind, before they even realized what they were doing, reaching out, wrapping their arms around Time, holding onto him firmly, as if trying to ground them both.

For a moment, there was nothing.

Time sat stiffly beneath their hold, unresponsive.

Then his shoulders shook.

A breath hitched.

A sharp inhale, one that he tried to keep quiet, but (y/n) felt it against their shoulder, the way his body trembled, the weight of his grief pushing against them, too much to fully contain but held back just enough.

(Y/n) held him tighter.

They didn’t understand what happened.

They didn’t know what Time had done.

But whatever it was…

It had hurt him. Hurt them all. badly.

(Y/n) pulled back slightly, hands still resting on Time’s shoulders as they looked up at him.

His head was bowed, breath uneven, his expression twisted with something too heavy to name. The dim light of the tent only made it worse, casting shadows over the worn lines of his face.

Without thinking, (y/n) reached up, cupping his face gently and tilting it so he’d look at them.

Time’s good eye met theirs, surprise flickering through the grief.

(Y/n) gave him a determined look before brushing their thumb over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

“I won’t ask again.” they murmured.

Time exhaled shakily, the tension in his shoulders softening ever so slightly.

(Y/n) let their expression ease, giving him a tired little smile.

“But,” they continued, tilting their head, “I at least hope you and the others got revenge before you fixed it.”

A weak chuckle left Time, his voice rough.

“I think…Wild handled that part.”

(Y/n) huffed a laugh.

“Figures.” They let their hands fall from his face, nodding in satisfaction. “That’s all I need to know.”

Silence settled between them, but it was more relaxed now. The weight in the air wasn’t as suffocating, no longer pressing down so hard it was unbearable.

(Y/n) shifted, glancing towards the tent entrance, then back to Time.

“…I kinda don’t wanna sleep alone tonight.”

Time turned to look at them fully, his eye scanning their face.

(Y/n) rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly.

“Would you… stay?”

Time blinked.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

A small smile grew on his lips, the kind that carried warmth despite the exhaustion in his gaze.

(Y/n) returned it, letting out a breath of relief.

“…Good.”

Without another word, they shifted to make room, patting the spot beside them.

Time followed, moving to lay down beside them, a bit nervously but eagerly.

And as (y/n) settled next to him, still for a moment before arms wrapped around Time, he tensed before slowly wrapping his own arms around them.

Eventually, Time let out a deep sigh, his whole body relaxing as he feels their heart beat (alive, strong, such a wonderful rhythm) feeling their presence close, steady and real.

It was exactly what he needed. (He had a feeling the others will also get their own nights with their darling soon enough. (y/n) was just like that to be so considerate.)

It took no time at all for him to sleep.

[mallomars]

Sun wukong (Character Design)