#when my ability to draw comes back from the war i will finally sit down and make my dumb little aro/ace/agender/alienbrain zine

[really-burnt-toast]

Redesigning my COTL cast pt.1

HAHA I'm finally done! I only made busts tho bc Im lazy and Im not putting myself through drawing a size chart... YET.

It WILL come, just so I can show pretty outfits and show how ridiculous Leshy's hight is LOL

If you see any spelling mistakes, please ignore them <3

(more info and rambling under cut)

Here I'll write some more things relating to each character;

Lamb

Born in Darkwood to a single mother, their mom had named them Mellia after the flowers that grow there, since they had aided in striving off an illness she had during the pregnancy.

The Lamb grew up pretty happily despite being on the run. Their mother was eventually caught whilst they made an escape. During their years of hiding, they broke their leg during one particularly risky escape and were caught not long after.

Their number is 1.600.666 because I keep making a connection between Darkwood and Germany's Schwartzwald - there are 1.6 million sheep in Germany - so I decided to have that be the approximate number. 666 was just added for fun.

Their ear was tagged to keep track of how many sheep were caught in which realm. They just so happened to be the last to be executed. By mere coincidence.

They were born without horns and kinda made the crown shape into a set. It has the benefit that they can rip em off and use them as impromptu weapons.

Due to centuries of being treated as a tool for a prophecy and merely a vessel, their self esteem is downright horrid. Whilst they don't condone followers speaking ill of them, they pretty much let Narinder trample on their feelings up until they had snapped one day. In the end it did help them both, but it wasn't great it had to be taken to that point.

Extra: I added the vitiligo because when I imagine a human version, I couldn't help but see them as having Vitiligo. Their leg limp was made after I thought it would make them look more imposing seeing someone "weak" suddenly pull out a giant hammer.

Narinder

Found within a burning village under rubble, clutching a crown as war raged around them. He was found by Shamura and taken in.

He was the first to create resurrection and back then it was an EXTREMELY taxing ritual. It would require his own godly flesh to beckon people back to life - thus it would literally cause his skin and flesh to melt off his bones. Now that's not needed anymore but his body is still weak to it, meaning during certain stress factors, he can still become skeletal. He doesn't have scarring from it, but gained some cool markings.

He was bound by his arms, torso and neck - all of which are scarred. In the afterlife he was perpetually sitting, causing him to be paralyzed from the waist down. Once he was usurped he had to regain his ability to walk and was taken care of by the Lamb.

He was in a catatonic state for many years and it only got better gradually with many setbacks. For years he never left the bed and by the time his Siblings had been rescued, he had barely started going outside. He was also suffering from chronic pains which wasn't really helpful.

He's also very... Temperamental. It took him just as long to say anything nice to the Lamb and it took him extra long to see them as more than his vessel.

Extra: I changed his markings to be more like I had imagined them. The catatonic trait and chronic pain was added after the update and I remember how horrible it was having tendonitis and I wanted to channel my distaste into Narinder.

Shamura

Found and raised by the last gods, they weren't the greatest sibling. They may have taken in the others but it took them a long time to be anything other than cold. With Kallamar, Shamura was distant and strict - then with Narinder they attempted to be less harsh after the kid started crying himself to sleep. With Heket and Leshy they got less and less cold. They tried their best, they'd argue.

They got carried away by their feelings as they had feared at the start and that's when the first prophecy came to them. They had kept it hidden for way too long until the balance of the crown's powers were ripping at the seams due to Narinder's pursuit in power - and they made a decision. They had told Kallamar first. Then Heket and Leshy were brought in.

Stuff happened. Now they are barely coherent and at most have an hour or two at a time where they seem to make sense. Leshy stays with them the most. Kallamar takes care of them. Heket takes care of the rest. Their skull is caved in, they lost an eye and limbs - some of the damages can't be hidden by bandages.

There's also this thing that their crown keeps getting out of control whilst trying to keep their mind stable - sometimes they'll get startled - attempt to form a weapon and instead end up with their arm speared through. They have scarring all over their body from it.

Upon recruitment they are pretty overwhelmed. Their crown can't stop them from breaking anymore and they have gotten so used to godhood that mortality now feels like they are literally rotting alive. They can feel their body wasting away.

Only after getting their relic back do they start becoming more independent and stable. They nowadays go through some sort of rehab to try and regain their sense of self.

Extra: Not much was added. I wanted to give them Glasses but I can't for the life of me draw them with a pair... So Ill just say they have them but not show them LOL

Kallamar

His past is basically forgotten. It sorta slipped away since he hadn't deemed it fit to be remembered. At first he had MANY fights with Shamura, then it ceased after a confrontation turned violent which left him with a bad scar.

He had to take care of his younger siblings whilst coming to terms with godhood - filling in whenever Shamura wasn't physically or mostly emotionally unavailable. For a long time he was the only one that could comfort his ailing siblings. Dealing with that sort of made him pretty easily agitated.

When Shamura proposed the plan, he had been hesitant - but ultimately didn't say anything.

Now he takes care of his siblings medically. He hates himself more than he hates anyone else and as much as he is quick to condemn and betray Shamura - he is also quick to condemn himself. Though maybe not as enthusiastically or openly.

He likes to compensate. Giving gifts to request forgiveness - grand displays of favoritism or mainly decking himself and his multiple spouses out with Jewels. He still keeps his wedding rings around his neck and his earring references his siblings.

Funnily enough, he caused the least troubles to the Lamb. They could argue he even seemed relieved after a short while of staying in the cult.

Extra: Added Jewelry and two tentacles because he looked naked without them.

Heket

Loudmouth frog that when found with her crown, she started trying to fight Shamura - insulting whatever parent they had. She kept threatening to poison them too.

In the lineup of her siblings, she was often the one who took the sidelines. If she was happy, she was left alone. If she was displeased, she'd let herself known. The most uncomplicated of the siblings.

You'd almost miss how every other bishop would seek her out when help was needed. While Shamura helped with godhood and Kallamar with emotional needs - Heket was a good person to pester with anything else. She'd handle it - just let big sis do it. Even if she was the second youngest - it's funny how even Kallamar and Narinder would occasionally use the nickname.

Then when everyone else was dealing with their wounds, she picked up the pace and kept their respective cults from falling apart. She handled Silk cradle until Shamura could - helped with Darkwood and took over Anchordeep when Kallamar was tending to the others. No problem.

She was still loud when entering the cult. Not as much as her brother - but she loved to cause scenes. Her muteness didn't seem to hinder her at all with that. She's not allowed near knives but somehow can handle axes?

Her temper problems don't get better. She just stops being an asshole about it.

She prefers having scarfs covering her neck bandages whilst they're all bloody and disgusting.

Extra: Nothing because Heket is already perfect.

Leshy

Literally a weird insect that kept clinging to the crown until it grew big enough to hold in one hand. It bit anything that got close and by the time Shamura found it - he had started eating small critters.

And god, he kept growing and growing until he wasn't a small worm in Shamura's hand but literally too big to fit through most doors. They suspected he'd grow until the end of time. Or well, now since his crown is gone.

He never listens. He screams for fun and overshares the worst details to the point he manages to break his siblings into just accepting anything he talks about. They can't even scold him or punish him since Leshy always finds a way to make things worse for anyone else but himself.

He also copies everyone. First it was Heket's tone. Then it was Narinder's behavior - now he started growing flowers and vine braids to make fun of Kallamar and his antlers were at first a crude mimic of Shamura's pedipalps and now they grow vines to be similar to the jewels hanging from them. He refuses to acknowledge doing so.

He's very clingy. After locking away Narinder, he stayed with Shamura every day until they were out of bed rest. He follows his siblings around and when he does give them a second to breathe - hes probably laying around in Darkwood instead of doing anything productive. He does tends to plants occasionally, but he prefers "to let chaos do its thing" - as if that means anything.

He makes for a great gardener after he stopped trying to break everything upon recruitment. And once he got over growling at every living thing - he actually became one of the most well liked people living there.

Leshy knows exactly what someone needs and somehow finds a way to achieve that with the littlest of efforts. It's the thought that counts.

Extra: Braid and vines because I thought Leshy would look cute with it.

Special: The 4 bishops all wear old faith themed robes, but Shamura got the elder clothes for comfort and Leshy kept tearing his clothes apart so he is not permanently excluded from having any special outfits as punishment. Narinder wears fancy robes (who happen to be loose and warm while being special - otherwise he'd complain)

The Lamb wears one of the leaked fleeces since I loved the red riding hood aesthetic.

In the end this turned more into biographies than actual explanations but its 3:30am, Im sleep deprived and I wanted to get my thoughts out because I start having memory problems again YIPPEE

[mactavishwritings]

Fresh Ink Part Three

Ghost x Tattoo Artist!Reader

You were always there for him. Would he do the same for you?

Tw: tattoo needles, kidnapping <3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four|

It had been about a year and a half since you had started tattooing Simon and about a year since you and Ghost had started seeing each other. You had worked on his sleeve until it creeped up over his shoulder and onto his back. You asked him multiple times to let you do his other arm, but he refused, claiming that he didn't want to run the risk of ruining a single piece with scars or wounds. You told him constantly that you would always cover it up, but he denied every wish. What you did manage to convince him of was to allow you to do a thigh piece; a giant portrait of Ares, the God of War and Courage, with a battle scene background. You had sketches drawn up in your notepad you kept besides your bed, not letting Simon get any early peaks. He always said he trusted you, not wanting any peaks any way, but you always caught him trying to look over your should while you were drawing.

The two of you tried to step up many appointments for Simon to get this tattoo done, but every time the appointment came around, he would get sent on a mission that would pull him away from you for weeks or even months at a time. You felt like you were being stood up, but you knew he couldn't control it. You saw in his eyes that he felt terrible about it and he didn't want to leave you. Whenever he did come back home, he came straight to you. You were his home; he never need to stop at his apartment, he had clothes at your house, and you were always waiting for him with open arms. You were the only home he needed. That and your shop made him feel happy and warm.

Speaking of your shop, you had expanded and you hired another artist to work in the shop with you. It lessened your work load incredibly and gave you the ability to see more of your clients. It definitely helped you relax a lot. Simon noticed the relief immediately, seeing you walk with less weight on your shoulders. You even had the ability to update your room even more; adding more decorations and pictures of you two. Emma made fun of you occasionally, but thought it was cute. Finally, Simon was able to get his thigh tattoo done. He was sitting in your chair, leg up and exposed. You were focused on the tattoo gun, dragging the needle carefully down his thigh. "You know, we've never had a real first date. Our dates consist of tattoos and movies at your place." Simon stated, hand resting on your back. You paused and leaned back in your chair, looking up at the man. "What? What do you mean?" You had a loopsided smile on your face, leaning up towards Simon who leaned back down in response. "I wanna take you on date. A real one where you dress nice and I bring you flowers."

Your face flushed and you gently kissed Simon's cheek before going back to his tattoo. "What were you think, love?" You pulled a deep line, thickening that side to add dimension to the piece. "I want to bring you to some fancy place where we make fun of the other people dining and I want you to wear some pretty dress that will make me drool all night and some heels that make your feel hurt so I'll have to rub them later." Simon played with a piece of your hair that fell out of your ponytail. You giggled and nodded along to his words. "And I would invite you in for a tea afterwards and you would come up with me. We would sit on my couch and drink the terrible I have because I don't drink it." Simon smiled brightly, the smile that only you get to see. "Exactly! Next day you're off, we're going because I don't know when my next mission is." You nodded, pulling another line, a thin one this time.

A couple days past and Simon had texted you that he was cashing in on his date card. He had texted you the day before that he was going to take you out so you had plenty of time to get ready. You treated yourself that day, a full shower, shave, and lotion. You spent the whole day focusing on yourself and getting ready. You knew that Simon would appreciate you taking the time to ground your mind. He wanted you to feel special, to know how much you meant to him. At half past 6, you got a text from Simon saying that he was outside your apartment building. You giggled and double checked yourself in the mirror before running out the door. You felt like it was a first date and you were still trying to impress each other again.

You met Simon in the lobby of your apartment, where he stood with a bouquet of fresh flowers. It was a variety of different flowers, from white lilies to pink roses. You took the flowers in your hands and your face flushed. “Thank you, Si. You really didn’t have to.” You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and he offered your his arm. He wore his usual skull mask, a pair of black fitted jeans, and a plain grey tee shirt that he had half tucked into his pants. Johnny must’ve given him some pointers on how to dress for this date. “I know. I wanted to though. You look absolutely stunning.” You had put on exactly what he had asked of you; a nice dark red dress that stopped right at mid thigh and a pair of heels that were already making your feet hurt, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You took his arm and gracefully walked with him to his car, smiling brightly up at the man, trying your best to ignore the stares you were getting.

The dress you picked out highlighted all of your tattoos, showing them off just how Simon liked. You knew it wasn’t usual for a woman to be completely covered in tattoos, but it was becoming more common. Most of the women who lived around you were clean and pristine, so of course they gave you stare downs whenever given the chance. Plus with Simon’s hulking figure and his mask, you two were like a show for these older women to gawk at. You felt slightly uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to shrug on a jacket and hide in it. Simon must’ve noticed because he dropped his arm down and wrapped it tightly around your waist. He ushered you quickly into his car. “Ignore them, love. We’re gonna enjoy our evening, despite them.” Simon reassured as he opened the door for you, leaning down close to your face. You smiled, breathlessly nodding before sliding into the passenger seat. Simon reached over you and buckled you in and closed the door before quickly jogging around to the driver’s side and jumped in. You smiled happily as you wrapped your hand around his arm, leaning your head on his shoulder as he took off down the road.

"So we have two options; sushi or steak. Up to you." Simon kissed your head and you shrugged. "Choices choices choices....I think steak." You hummed and Simon smiled. "I like it. Let's go then." Simon quickly changed lanes and turned left. You leaned back in your seat and grabbed his phone to change the music to something you liked. Once you arrived to the restaurant, Simon opened your car door and you stepped out. You smiled at the place and Simon locked his car before guiding you inside. You guys were seated at a booth and you two sat across from each other, him reaching out to hold your hand. You squeezed his hand and grabbed the menu. "You want me to order for you, honey?" Simon looked at you, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles. "Yeah, whatever you think is good. I'm not sure what to get." You scanned the menu a few more times before placing the menu back down at the edge of the table. Simon nodded, before calling the waiter over and ordered a bottle of wine, two steaks, and an appetizer for you two to share. You smiled and leaned back, watching Simon check his phone before sliding it back in his pocket. Your smile faltered for a moment and your shoulders dropped.

"It's going in my pocket and not coming out for the rest of the night, I swear." Simon's hand came to rest on your arm and you nodded, smiling softly at the man. "You get called away any time we try to get together... Don't want to get my hopes up is all." You turned out as the waiter brought out the appetizer. Simon grabbed your hand gently as you tried to divert your attention to the food. "No no, baby. Look at me. I am here tonight and I am not going anywhere. I swear to you. Not tonight, You have me tonight." Simon whispered to you and you blushed, nodding. "Now let's enjoy the rest of the night without worrying about when I am leaving." You two were finishing up the rest of your dessert and you hand your wine glass in your hand, eyes practically in hearts. Simon was telling you one of his mission stories and his fingers laced with yours. When the check came, Simon immediately handed the waiter his credit card, not letting you even see the total. You blushed and finished the rest of your wine, rubbing his arm lightly.

The two of you decided to walk around the park that was down the road from the restaurant. You two held hands, walking past other people in the park. It was a clear night, relatively warm, and the sky was clear. You were just about to say something to Simon when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. Your shoulders dropped and your stomach plummeted. Simon squeezed your hand, before taking out his phone. You sighed as the man stepped away to take the call. The only reason you knew it wasn't good was he kept looking back at you with a familiar look in his eye; the look of sadness that he got when he had to leave you for another mission. You sighed and crossed your arms across your chest as Simon came back over to you after he hung up. "Babe..." Simon grabbed your arms and pulled you close to his chest. "Si. It's okay. It's your job, you can't control that." You casually shrugged and Simon shook his head, leading you back to his car. "I leave in two days. You and I are going to stay in your bed until then and I don't want to hear otherwise."

Those two days came and pasted and Simon stayed true to his word. The two of you stayed in your bed, minimal clothes and only getting up for food and the bathroom. When it came time for Simon to leave, you drove him back to base. You smiled at the man as he leaned over to kiss you deeply before getting out of the car. You rolled the passenger window down and Simon rest his forearms on the open slot. "Will you be here when I get back?" You nodded, knowing the hidden meaning behind the question. "Always." You reached your hand out and Simon grabbed it and planted a kiss on your knuckles. "Seeing you after the missions always make them go by faster. I now got something to come home to."

The mission had only lasted 3 weeks, but it felt like forever for you. You tried to make it go by faster by taking on more clients, but even Emma could tell your mind was elsewhere. You had just finished your last client of the day when you felt eyes on you. You turned your head to see Simon standing at the entrance of your room with his mask pulled up to his nose. "Oh my god! I didn't know you were going to be home this week!" You squealed and rushed over to the tall man. He was prepared for your weight, easily lifting you with one arm wrapped quickly around your middle. "Wanted to surprise you. Called Emma earlier to see if you were still in." You giggled and planted kisses all over the man's face. You tried to push his mask up more, but he stopped you, looking over his shoulder. He walked further into the room and closed the door, before finally shedding his mask. "There he is." You whispered as he sat down on your tattoo chair with you on top of him. You kissed his forehead, nose, and finally lips. "(Y/N). I need to have a serious conversation with you. You know that my job comes with risk, right?"

You got nervous and nodded, arms resting on his shoulders. "Have you seen anything weird? Gotten any weird messages?" You had never seen Simon so serious before. You thought back and shook your head. "I need to be open and honest with you, okay? We got intel that a suspect we've been chasing has touched down about 10 miles from here and I need to know immediately if you see anything weird or unusual." Your body got tense and nodded. "We don't think you'll be in any danger, but I want you to be prepared." You rubbed Simon's shoulder, feeling the stress he had been holding onto for the past few weeks. "Thank you, Si. I will let you know immediately. Pinky promise." You held your pinky out and Simon wrapped his around yours; you both leaned down and kissed your outstretched thumbs to seal the promise. A few days had pasted since that conversation, and you had forgotten all about the threat. You had just parked your car in the employee parking lot you recently opened and walked around to the front door of your shop to unlock the door. You were wrestling with your purse to find the keys when you noticed a note on the door. You grabbed the note and opened it; the paper had a black serpent symbol on it and that's when you heard the squealing of tires and you looked up. You gasped when you saw a black van pull up behind you and two masked men jumped out, grabbing your arms and covering your mouth. You cried out, kicking your legs as they dragged you into the van and driving off; not before dropping both the note and a black ace card on your door.

You were fighting the men off when you were injected with a drug in your arm. You felt your mind go fuzzy and the panic increased tenfold. Tears rolled down your face as you thought of Simon's words, knowing this would practically kill him. You closed your eyes, feeling the fight leave you as darkness over took. How would you survive this?

[jhilsara]

Can you add the rest of the notes?

Here we go part 6! Thanks again for being interested <3

There’s a disruption in the conversation, a summoning circle appears and up comes the succubus from the night before. The group stands their ground, Sam stands in front of MC with Erik, hopefully blocking her from the Succubus. “Well that plan failed miserably.” She says as she plops herself onto the dining room table, looking at her nails. “Forgot about the bastard child and his mind reading abilities.” MC sees Damien bristle at that and Sam clenches his fists. She looks up from her nails and makes direct eye contact with MC through the small gape between Erik and Sam. Glaring. “I see the human has some guard dogs.” She lazily draws her eyes up to Sam and Erik. “One being the brute.” She gives Sam a disgusted look before whipping her head around to look for James. “What do you want?” James glares at her but his tone just sounds exhausted with her, almost like he’s addressing a child. She notices too and raises a brow. “What I want is for you all to stop playing around with humans and deal with the brink of war your father is about to start.” She bites out. “That doesn’t concern us anymore. We were dethroned the second we left.” Erik tells her. “That can change though. I was arranged to marry one of you, that still needs to happen. Then we can rise to the throne and stop your monster of a father.” She says seriously. MC is confuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuused but is not about to start asking questions why this succubus is here. “None of us are coming with you.” James tells her in irritation. “I didn’t ask for your permission.” She barks back, her voice lowering dangerously, a purple aura surrounding her. “Don’t get on your high horse here bitch! There’s five of us and one of you. I’d watch your mouth.” Sam responds in the same tone, a green aura surrounding him. If they’re not careful a fight will happen. “Don’t get mouthy with me brute or I will kill that little human and make this easier on us all.” She jumps down from the table stalking her way toward Sam. “What the fuck did you just say!?” he growls out and tries to rush her, but Erik holds him back. “Don’t be stupid, she wants you to attack her!” Erik tells him. “Let me go Erik!” Sam James rushes over and helps Erik hold down Sam. “What a good little guard dog. I bet he listens to his owner.” She’s looking at MC not at Sam. “Don’t look at her look at me bitch!” Sam is actively shaking trying to get out of his brother’s grip. Matthew is now on Sam’s back trying to keep him down. “Call me a bitch one more time you mangy dog and see what I’ll do to you!” She shouts at him. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and sighs. “Whatever, my plans changed now anyways. I’ll be back to collect you boys.” She turns around to go back to where she summoned herself. As she disappears she makes eye contact with MC the whole time. It’s not until her body is completely gone that James, Erik, and Matthew release Sam. He’s breathing hard, trying to come down from the rage. James and Erik turn to look and check on MC. Her eyes are just wide looking at the spot in the floor the succubus disappeared. “We got this.” Matthew places his hand gently on her shoulder She just continues to stare into the floor, burning a hole with her eyes.

After the morning events Damien takes her back upstairs to let her take a nap. He watches over her, all of them too worried to leave her alone even in the house.

When she finally wakes up, it’s James sitting in the room reading and writing furiously in a notebook.

“What time is it?” she groans out. James almost jumps out of the chair. He collects himself quickly looking at his watch. “Around 3… You okay?” he asks cautiously. She avoids eye contact gripping the bedding in her hands. “Define okay?” He closes the book and goes to sit on the edge of her bed. “It’s not a great situation… but we’re going to handle her. Try to not worry about it.” James tells her gently. “I’m so sick of everyone telling me to not worry. I’m filled with worry, about a million different things!” she takes a deep breath before word vomit just starts to spiral out of her. “I’ve been put on the backburner my whole life! Don’t worry about a job, don’t worry about a major, don’t worry about your dad, don’t worry about you’re future, don’t worry about devils, don’t worry about this impending danger that seems to follow you!” She’s not looking at James, her hair curtains over her face hiding her welling tears from him. “I’m over being told to not worry about my life. About the people I care about…”

James is quiet and gets up to grab the notebook he was writing in earlier.

He gently hands it to her. “I know a few things about being told who to be and what is expected of you from others… I got to leave that and find who I am…I’m still finding out who I am besides the first-born prince of the Demon Lord.” She looks up at him, an takes the notebook from him. “Those are almost all the transcriptions of the first journal of your grandfathers. This is yours to take if you want. Your future is yours so you can use this or not. I’d prefer if you did since I wrote it all out for you though.” He smirks at her. She shoves him. “Thanks James…she uh, she burned those first notes you made me.” His face sours, “Yea I found the magical ashes on your bed… She’s threatened by that knowledge if she did that.” “She is?” “Absolutely. Maybe you can do more than you know. If she was willing to burn all of that just seeing you with it, she feels threatened by whatever power your grandfather had.” She leans on James shoulder for a second, looking through the notebook. “Thank you.” She whispers. “You’re welcome. Now I’m going to see how lunch is going, but Sam is probably waiting to see you.” Her face flushes. James just rolls his eyes. “We sent him on a run to get that adrenaline out of his body. He’s probably on the roof sulking.”

She goes outside onto her balcony and looks up, she can see Sam up there sitting over her bedroom. She smiles to herself.

“Do you wanna come down or should I go up?” she hollers up at him. He jumps before looking around and realizing she’s under him on the balcony. His face flushes for a moment. “How’d you know I was up here?” he questions She shrugs, “It’s where you usually are when I can’t find you.” He raises a brow. “And James told me.” He rolls his eyes but makes his way over to the edge and swings himself down onto the balcony with her. He lands next to her and looks over her. He opens his mouth but she cuts him off. “Do not ask me if I’m okay. The answer is up in the air right now.” He chuckles, “Fair enough.” She leans into him resting her forehead on his shoulder. “I think I’m sick of supernatural beings trying to kill me…” He wraps an arm her pulling her closer, “I think I am too.” He mumbles into her hair. She smiles into his shoulder and peeks up at him. “What?” he laughs. “Thanks for being the world’s best guard dog.” He groans and shoves his face into the crook of her neck. She starts giggling that turns into full on laughter. He bites her. “Sam!” she swats at his arm. He looks up at her smirking, “I’m an aggressive bred, I bite.” “Ha ha ha.” She tries to shove him off but doesn’t succeed. He keeps a good grip on her waist. “Sam?” she leans back to look down at him. “Sorry just give me a second.” His arms are shaking a bit. “…Did you, did you burn off any energy you had left?” she asks quietly. He nods. “I can-” she starts but Sam cuts her off. “No! I mean,” He jolts up looking her in the eye, nervous. “I don’t want you to- fuck.” She tilts her head confused. “I’m not good at this.” He sighs. “I would give feedback but I’m confused.” She offers in light tone. He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want you to think I just use you for energy. You’ve offered twice now and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.” “… do you not want my energy?” she asks softly, hurt a little. Maybe she had been reading his signs wrong. He reads her face and starts fumbling, “No no! I didn’t, fuckin’ shit.” He puts his head back into the crook of her neck and sighs. “I mean I want you to give your energy because you like me…not because you feel obligated too.” She starts giggling, “Sam, I offer it because I like you dummy.” Sam buffers for a second, unsure if he heard her right. “Are you serious?” he mumbles into her neck. She starts laughing, “Sam, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve tried to talk to you about this a few times already. I also just don’t let your brothers take naps with me…in bed.” Sam starts laughing, “I guess I should have put that together…” “Or talked to me?” she suggests “Yeah, or talk to you.” He kisses her neck and it sends a shiver down her spine. “Or kiss, kissing works.” She sighs airily. He chuckles, kisses under her ear and pulls away to look at her. She blushing furiously but smiling at him. “Why don’t we pick this up after lunch, yeah?” Sam    

MC and Sam are kinda sorta dating. The lines are a little blurry.

Diana is still proving to be a problem and they don’t feel the safest, especially since she can just show herself.

It’s September and her new semester of university is about to start and it has her on edge. She’s picked a new subject for her masters and it’s something she’s passionate about. (History??Library science?)

She’s nervous about living her life, and everyone’s on edge with Diana

“Can someone just tell me what’s happening? Why does she want you so badly?” They all get awkward and kinda get weirdly quiet and clammy. “I mean… I could show you more than tell you…” Damien suggests. “What does that mean?” She asks. Sam gets rigid and sends Damien a glare. “It means he can literally show you what we went through…” Erik tells her voice bitter. “It’s disgusting and vile and she doesn’t need to see it!” Sam says through gritted teeth. “Sam, she needs to know what she’s getting into… clearly we can’t be running forever. If it’s not Diana or the devils it will be someone else.” James says. “Fine.”

Damien does his little ~see into the paaaaaaaast~

It’s worse than in the game, their father is a monster. Like for real for real. Damien tries to keep it to only the important information, but it’s still bad. It’s so bad.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry you had to endure that…” She says looking at them. Sam bristles and walks away. He can’t handle sympathy and he never wanted MC to know anything about their past. He was ready to never look back. “He’ll come around… he’s just…” James tries to start but looks away with a sigh. “He’s ashamed. We all are.” Damien finishes. “You didn’t… you all are victims you know that, right?” She asks them, seriously. “You didn’t have a choice.” “We did. It just would have killed us.” Erik says in disgust. “That’s what Diana wants us to stop. We ran away for a reason.” Matthew says bitterly. MC grows quiet. She can see why they ran, but there’s a part of her that also understands Diana. “Do you think there’s any way to stop your father?” She asks quietly. They all grow quiet, like shadows fall around them. “It’s not our fight anymore.” James says matter of factly.

She doesn’t push it, but MC wonders if it’s the right choices their making. She doesn’t think any of them should marry her, but they need to stop their tyrant of a father. It might kill them though, and don’t they deserve their freedom?

[solopostings]

Din's Chosen .

- - -

If that beast wasn't going to end her, then he had to do it himself. It was fairly easy to lure Senka out to the desert with the excuse of alcohol involved.

Seeing as the Gerudo of this timeline were known for their... strong drinks. Ravii was cunning — he could easily get his sister out and about if he really wanted to. With the simple topic of "free alcohol."

Taking a deep breath, he stood in front of her. Few feet away as the scorching sun blazed over them.

"I didn't think you'd fall for that note so easily." Ravii chuckled as he placed his hand on the handle of his sword. his hand clutched around it. trembling in anticipation to draw it.

Senka waves her hand to fan her face, groaning at the desert heat, "Well, I came here for the drinks. I thought I was meeting Impa here... I guess you fooled me good."

Truthfully, she was off her game after taking care of triplets. She should have known it was Ravii just luring her out.

"Your life ends here. No one can do this except for me."

"You've been saying that for years, Vii." Senka sighs, "You exiled me to the Shadow Temple because you couldn't kill me yourself. You've had so many chances yet... I'm still here."

A snicker followed, "You can't kill me because I'm still standing right here. Now stop this act and let's get drinks—"

Lightning suddenly struck down beside Senka, causing her to jump back and fall. Blinking in surprise, she looked back at Ravii.

   That was... new.

"I'm not going to sit down and have drinks with you of all people." Finally, he drew out his blade, walking towards her.

Clouds covered the sun as he drew closer to the older woman. The feeling of dread rising quickly.

"I'm growing tired, Senka. You have the power I need and you use if for nothing. You barely use it at all... how can you be so useless? Din's chosen? Pitiful." Ravii stops, holding the tip of the Goddess' sword to her throat.

Senka tilted her head, still smirking a bit.

"You are still the same after all these years. Jealous of me. Jealous of everyone. But here's the thing..."

Another bolt of light struck down behind Senka — causing flames to arise from the cactus it struck.

Senka's thought vanished as she heard the cackling of the flames behind her. Eyes slowly widened at the faint glow coming from Ravii's hand.

"... you made fire." She whispered under her breath.

It all came to it. The power of fire. The ability to make a flame is what started this war between Ravii and Senka. Between him and Din.

Din's Fire.

  Or as Hyrule called it, The Triforce of Power.

Ravii was Farore's Chosen. He had the power of wind — Farore's Wind.

    The Triforce of Courage.

He never saw it as a gift, rather a burden. The only one who thought of him as useful or even worthy was Ganondorf.

The man he watched die in the hands of Link and Zelda back in his old timeline.

The man he saw as his own father.

"Vii..." Senka spoke a bit louder, "I can sense it. You... you have my power already."

"Stop lying. You can not weasel your way out of this one. I will end you and gain Din's power."

He was so driven with taking her life he didn't notice the fire in front of him.

That was until another loud crack of the flames snapped him out of his craze. He looked at the fire behind Senka.

slowly, his eyes drew to his hand. A light glow of a triangle on his hand.

"You are worthy..." Senka crawled backwards, getting away from the sword.

"No, that's can't be. This was my father's power..." Ravii slowly raised his hand, looking at the glow fading in and out slightly. It was faint — but it was there.

"You know what that means... he must have seen you worthy to—"

"He isn't dead! I spoke to him!" Ravii yelled, causing strong winds to blow around them. Sand picking up around them.

"But you know as well as I do that when powers like this are passed down, it means they are —"

Another lightning strike by Senka struck down, causing the winds to rage stronger. Ravii's hand trembled as he stared at the light growing stronger.

"Ravii, he saw you worthy enough to give you the last of his chosen power. You have Din's blessing, too!" Senka finally managed to yell as she held onto a rock wall tightly.

The wind only got stronger as lightning flashed in the dark clouds. Barely seen from the sandstorm created by Ravii without realizing.

The younger Glacian dropped his sword, falling to his knees as he gripped his wrist. Tucking himself down into the sand as he screamed in horror.

Chosen Royal Glacians passed down their blessing if they were to die. It was well known. That's the whole reason Ravii wanted Senka to die — he wanted to take Din's blessing.

Knowing he had the Triforce of Power with him, he didn't want to believe it.

  No. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

He knew Ganondorf was still alive. There was no way he wasn't. He could always feel his presence alongside him. Guiding him in a path he made for him. Following the way Ganondorf would want him to go.

How could he be dead if Ravii was so close to prevailing?

The wind grew stronger, causing a sandstorm throughout the entire desert from his rage alone. Senka covered her face with her arm, slowly making her way to Ravii.

No matter how old they were, he was still her little brother. Still that lost little boy from when they were kids.

She made her way beside him, falling to her knees.

"Vii, you're going to ruin the whole Gerudo Desert if you keep this up!" Senka yelled, shaking Ravii's shoulder.

Ravii didn't budge. His focus was purely on his hand — the glow of the same Triforce he once saw on his father's hand.

   He wasn't worthy of this.

   He didn't want this.

He wanted his father back. To show him everything he has done to continue his work. Everything he has done was for him. to bring him back to a Hyrule fit for him on the throne.

  ... was it all for naught?

Ravii's head suddenly looked up at the sandstorm around him he was causing. Slowly, he stood up and took a deep, slow, shakey breath.

Fixing his cape for comfort, the wind slowly calms. The sandstorm subsided.

Senka picked up the sword, looking at it in her grasp. Her eyes slowly drew to Ravii standing with his back facing her.

A sigh left her as she walked beside him.

"... I'm sorry." Senka frowned, "I want you to know that I am always —"

"I don't need your comfort." Ravii snapped, taking the sword back from her. putting it back in its scabbard on his hip.

"He isn't dead. Stop acting like he is." Ravii looked around the desert, taking it all in.

It wasn't his Gerudo Desert, the one he belonged to, but it was close enough.

"... I'll show you all he isn't gone. I just need to find him." Ravii turned to look down at Senka, "As for you... get out of my sight."

Senka placed her hands on her hips, "Thought you were going to kill me."

Ravii spun around on his heel, walking away from her, "... changed my mind. Lucky you."

Senka crossed her arms and smirked a bit as she watched him walk away. However... her smirk faded as she glanced to the burned cactus.

Ravii having both Farore's and Din's power in his grasp... he was very well stronger than Ganondorf now. But she knew deep down, Ravii would never admit it.

She will have to keep an eye on him when she can.

Who knows what he can do with this new power?

  ... her eyes drew back to Gerudo Town.

Well, she was here after all.

Might as well get a drink or two first!

[blackmoldmp3]

trying to sort out something in my brain like uhhh im trans but also. my gender isnt a huge deal to me in a way. like i have a look and a vibe i want to pull off and specific ways i want people to refer to me but otherwise im simply not thinking about it. pretty sure its because im agender in the ‘NO gender’ way like. its just simply not there for me to think about kajsda

unfortunately other people get weird about it

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ᴀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ’ꜱ ɪɴꜱᴛɪɴᴄᴛ | ɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ ; ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ!ᴢʜᴏɴɢʟɪ x ᴅᴇᴍɪ ɢᴏᴅ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ⚠️NSFW [19+]⚠️

Heyoooo!!! It’s been a second hasn’t it? Lololol my bad uwu;; I’ve been doing a lot drawing lately, so I’ve been focusing a lot on that instead of writing— mainly since it requires less brain power for me SKKSSKSK anywho, in celebration of crowning Zhongli in game, I’ve decided to sin—- after talking with Admin T for a bit LOLOL thus, another Femdom fic is born SKSKSK 

As always, thank you all so much for the love and support~! We really appreciate it~!

Art is from my Art Blog: @ko-ffeine​

TW: BDSM ; Chains ; Flogging ; Overstimulation ; Blindfolds ; Shackles ; Collars / Leashes ; Muzzles ; Bondage / Restraints ; Riding ; Face Sitting ; Marking ; Vibratiors ; Breath Play

》》Admin Ko

»»————-　♔　————-««

Decades. It had been decades since her arrival to Teyvat. Thinking back to it, (y/n) hadn’t even realized the bonds she’s made after awakening in the depths of Dragonspine. Though it was best for her to not dwell on the past. After all, she learned early on with her revival that sticking to the past only brought unwanted trouble. 

The sound of chains clattering against marble awoke her out of her thoughts as she peered back to the bundle of chains on all fours. A long scaly tail whipping back and forth impatiently as heated glowing amber orbs bore deeply into her own (e/c) ones. 

“Morax…”

A soft sigh escaped her as she made her way over to the former archon. The loose hanfu that danced along her smooth skin had the dragon keen in want. The metal cage strapped to his mouth prevented his fangs from sinking into her supple flesh. The desire to mark and claim what was rightfully his was strung up high in his head as he strained against the enchanted chains that bound his wrists together. The hefty weight of the gold collar around his throat only further added  to his inability to surge forward as the chain attached to the device around his throat only allowed him so much distance. 

“You were being so good earlier. What’s gotten you riled up?”

Though soothing in tone, (y/n)’s expression was anything but as she marveled at the way the Geo Archon was presented before her. The night before his heat had gotten a hold of him, he had given her permission to be just as rough with him to ensure her safety—- and well, she wasted no time in taking advantage of the opportunity presented to her. 

In a flurry of motions she had skillfully wrapped the archon’s body in beautiful golden ropes. Each one accentuating the toned muscle from eons of war and battles. The delicious flush of red that painted his skin as she continued to further restrain the male only set her belly a flame. 

After all, the initial restraints were only mild. It wasn’t until the late evening did she realize how intensive she had to truly restrain her lover. Enchanted chains shackled him down. A leather muzzle had initially been placed to keep him from biting her, but was quickly forgone as he had ruined that within the span 15 minutes. Thus resulting in the current metal cage that adorned his haughty features. 

The collar and leash combo? That had only occurred when she had attempted to leave for the bathroom— only to be slammed into the floor with a lustful dragon dry humping against her as he snarled and growled at the fact he wasn’t able to sink his teeth into her flesh. 

The end resulted in the intensive flogging that only further fueled both party’s lust. 

“Little one~….”

A pang of warmth hit her as she broke out of her memories from last night to meet his impatient amber orbs.

“I should’ve attached the one with the bar in between just so you wouldn’t distract me.”  

Shaking her head, she made her way over to the male, and once she was within reach his tail immediately latched onto her leg. Easily trailing up to press against her cunt as he fervently surged forward to press himself against her. Yet of course, due to the damn muzzle in his way he could only be tantalizingly a breath away from his goal. 

The pressure his cock held did little to alleviate the pain as the desire to breed into her deeply sprang forth.

A hefty growl came from him as he pushed her even more until she tumbled onto her back. The morning sun only added to the ethereal effect as he pressed himself as close to her as he could. 

“Let me fuck you, Little one…wanna breed you until you’re full of my seed…bearing my children…”

A blush dusted across her features as he continued on before he was suddenly yanked back. A choked gasp came from him as he struggled against the Dendro vines that appeared as the vineyard appendages held him still. Each intimately wrapping around him to keep him seated in a frog tie. The leash having been jerked enough to keep him still as he let out a garbled growl.

“So feisty…this is getting interesting little one…”

“I think it’s time for you to stop talking Morax. I’d rather hear the sounds you truly want to make.”  

“Oh ho? How do you plan on doing that?” 

Taunting and ever so prideful, the mighty dragon refused to back down as he strained to get as close to her as he could. Her nearing form did little to deter the desire to fuck her thoroughly. Though before he could even do much the vines came forth to hold his head still. Smaller ones easily kept his lips open as he struggled to chomp and tear the greenery away. Yet with this, he failed to notice her swiftly remove the muzzle before replacing it with a strong and sturdy ring gag. His mouth now forcibly open as drool began escaping down his chin. 

“Haaah?”

“Not so tough now huh? Like the chains, my lovely Archon, this was also enchanted~. I had the chance to put some of my former power into this device. So I’m confident that it won’t break~.”

Grinning, she watched as the funeral consultant tested the new device before grunting as a flare of his nostrils showed his displeasure in the newly placed device.

“Now that that has been settled, I do believe you should be put to use.” 

A guttural sound of confusion came from Zhongli before darkness overcame him. Leafs? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his sense of touch was beginning to heighten and his sense of smell was driving him over the wall as he could practically taste how wet her cunt was. 

Almost as if a learned reaction, the dragon’s tongue fervently searched for her as he reached out. His once ‘normal’ tongue now long and thick as his fangs extended ever so slightly over the metal ring of the gag. Freedom from the device was so close, yet as this occurred…

“Guh?! Haah..nnn ”

The metal shifted to accommodate the change Zhongli brought on; and as if to spite him, the device seemed to meld to form a stricter grasp around his face as a metal band formed over his nose bridge, further enforcing the fact that the device was not coming off.

“Ahhh, is, ish nah wha ah wha—ed” 

“Oh? You’ll have to use your words more clearly, love~”

Her tone only further fanned the flames of lust in his belly as he continued to obscenely drool all over the marble floors. Though his attempts at reprimanding her were stilled as he let out a muffled grunt before an animal like moan and growl tore through his throat as he finally got a taste of her juices. 

Oh how he wished to sink his claws into her supple flesh. Mark the terrain with his love bites and scent. Yet with all the restraints scattered about his body, all he could do was eagerly lap at her pussy with his tongue to the best of his abilities. 

And by the sounds she was making, he was doing quite the job. Easily, with his long tongue he teased and taunted her slick walls. All of her weak points, the secret little motions that he knew brought her immense pleasure. 

Though (y/n) couldn’t see it, she knew that her lover’s eyes had rolled up into his head. Especially when she could feel his tongue stutter as she not only buried his face into her wet cunt, but as the heel of her foot began to grind on his weeping cock. 

Muffled moans and grunts came from the man eating her pussy as he strained against the various layers of restraints she bestowed upon him. Just the very sight of him dressed in her materials had her groaning before cumming against the male’s face. 

As she stepped back, she couldn’t help but admire the state she left her lover in. Panting, drooling with a dash of her cum splattered in and an angry red cock. 

A sadistic cord snapped within her as she cupped his cheek. 

“Mmmm…you’re my good boy, aren’t you Morax?”

“..h-haaah?”

“If you can handle my game well, you can fuck me and fill me with your seed~.”

The mere mention of being able to sheath himself into her had the dragon’s tail whipping back and forth quickly as he leaned into her touch even more.

“Let’s see how well you can hold your breath. If you do well, then you win~.” 

Immediately a twitch of his cock was enough to spur her forth as she searched for the last couple of items she needed. With a grin, she easily worked a plug into the ring. Easily, the object filled the dragon’s mouth as his loud pants became muffled grunts and moans. 

Though before she decided to attach the smooth leather muzzle over his mouth and nose, she went to work with laying him on his side. The action causing a confused muffled grunt to come from the dragon before a gasp and moan came from him as he squirmed and struggled at the sudden intrusion of the vibrator up into his ass. 

“I didn’t say that it would be easy, Morax.”

A teasing lit came from her as she watched how the dragon’s hole greedily ate up the vibrator before she turned the toy on low. The reaction was immediate as  the dragon flinched from the sudden motions as mewls and lewd moans continued to leak out from his lips. 

“Ah~ You’re so cute…so weak and pliable just for me~.” 

Cooing, (y/n) gently ran her fingers along the beautiful horns adorning her lover’s head. Now that they were in full bloom and not stumps like yesterday, she had the ability to properly gaze at them. Though as she got to the base of his horns a muffled cry came from the dragon as spurts of cum splattered against her and his abdomen. 

“Ho? I didn’t realize your horns were an erogenous stimulant Morax.”

More muffled whines and growls came from the trembling dragon as he impatiently flicked his tail against the marble. In response, the Demi god pressed a kiss to his forehead before humming.

“Let’s begin our game then~.”

With a grunt and some of her former strength, she sat Zhongli up before she grabbed the leather muzzle. The smooth homeless mask glistened back at her before she placed the item over the dragon’s plugged mouth and nose. The straps behind now buckled securely as silence— save for the vibrations— filled the room. 

Smirking, she tested the waters by lightly rubbing her fingers along the tip of his cock. The motion resulting in a highly muffled moan as the dragon trembled. The flourish of his scales along his arms only further served to show how much control he had lost. 

“My, my…so sensitive. Then…let’s do this~.”

Immediately, she positioned herself over his weeping cock and in an instant sheathed his cock. The motion causing the bound dragon to writhe and buck his hips immediately up into her as his cheeks reddened with the lack of oxygen going to his brain. 

If only she could see his expression. His eyes rolled so far up his head as nothing but pleasure and pain hit him as he felt the burn of his lungs for oxygen and his voice sound so meek amidst it all. Of course that high went away as she tugged lightly at the tip of the mask. Fresh air immediately streamed in as he coughed and sputtered with pleads and moans for more as his cock twitched inside of her. 

“S-Shit…easy there baby…”

The pet name only further fueled his whines as he leaned forward into her as he pressed his face the best he could into her neck as she struggled to keep the mask away from his nose to ensure he got enough oxygen to his brain. 

“Let’s see if I make you cum first or if you make me, how about it Morax~?”

Before he could even try to answer the mask was pressed tightly over his nose again and the slow tell tale sign of their game began as he could feel her hips work their magic. Her heavy panting and groans only seemed to egg him on as he began to partake in the game. His hips meeting hers evenly as the foggy feel from the lack of oxygen began to pull at his lungs again. 

The feeling of helplessness and being an all powerful god tamed by a Demi god had his mind reeling from the pleasure of humiliation as he came hard into her. As he did so, he could feel her walls tighten around him only further over stimulating the male after his high as he struggled to keep up. 

Soon he was met with the lovely breath of air once again as the mask slipped away and he could finally smell her intoxicating scent. Sweat mixed with his musk never failed to fan at his belly as he fervently dug his face into her neck. Quickly chasing after the high, yet a gasp and muffled broken moan came from the male as he felt her move her hips once again. 

“Oh, you thought I was done baby? Not yet~. Didn’t you mention that your heats lasted a week?”

As she mentioned this he couldn’t help but feel his cock swell inside of her again, yet he couldn’t help the keen that came out of his throat at the overstimulation he was about to receive. 

“I’ll take good care of you, love. Even if it means me drilling into your dragon mind that I’m the one who is in control~.” 

Again, the slapping of skin filled the room as muffled whines came from the dragon. His claws straining against the binds as he wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into her hips to cum into her again. 

Yet no, he was at his lover’s mercy; and honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

It wasn’t until she turned the vibrator on high that he came again. A large load coming from him again as he filled her full. His seed seeping deep into her as he  rubbed his cheek against her neck even more refusing to allow her to leave as he wished to keep her plugged up. Just as she did to him.

“I suppose I’ll stay like this….but only for a moment. Then we try to feed you…alright?”

Softly murmuring against his hair she couldn’t help lovingly caress his hair as she basked in the moment of calm that a momentarily tired out dragon could bring. After all, she still had to deal with this for the next 6 days. 

[psychee92]

Why Elriel has the most realistic relationship in the ACOTAR series

Disclaimer: If you’re reading this, please take a step back from your personal preferences (ships, characters). This post lacks any subjectivity and focuses, instead, on the timeline (canon) of the ACOTAR series, and what this means for the development of Azriel and Elain’s relationship.

I’m always surprised when I read a post claiming that Elriel is not realistic, or that it came out of nowhere. While I will use scenes from the books as references, my biggest argument against Elriel not being realistic, or having come out of nowhere, is the passing of time (and compatibility).

These two characters have spent more time together than any other ACOTAR couple.

How, then, does it not make sense that they developed a mutual attraction/feelings for one another?

Remember: We have yet to read Elain’s POV, and have read very little about Azriel’s thoughts and feelings, but the little we do know is very telling.

Let’s start by looking at compatibility—something that Maas has focused on, again and again, since their first meeting. 

Feyre draws constant parallels between them—how alike they are in temperament. How similar they are, both able to put others at ease without much difficulty. They’ve shared one scene together, interacted once, and Feyre can already picture it, picture them together.

Most importantly, however, Maas draws the reader’s attention to their ability to read one another. Remember—Azriel’s own family is unable to discern his thoughts/emotions and yet, Elain manages to do so during their first meeting.

This shows how perceptive they both are.

Their ability to read each other is addressed again in Azriel’s Bonus POV, but more on that later. 

Then, in ACOWAR, the little hints about their compatibility increase tenfold. Do you think that it’s a coincidence that Elain interacts with Azriel moments after her first interaction with Lucien?

(It is also interesting to note the description in this passage. The image is poetic, and the meaning behind this moment (him carrying her in his arms through the front door - bridal-style? - even more so).

Do you think that it’s a coincidence that, after saying that no one truly sees her (or bothers to look), we see Azriel offering to show Elain the garden? He senses what she needs before anyone else does.

(It should also be noted that he offers to show it to her, something that no one asked him to do.)

Do you think that it’s a coincidence that Elain, who is viewed as the weakest of the Archeron sisters, is never afraid (or intimidated by) Azriel, who is often perceived as one of the (if not the) most feared member of the IC? Azriel, with his shadows and wings, with his cold eyes and expressionless face?

Do you think that it’s a coincidence that Feyre noticed the small moment between them, when Elain looked at his scars and called them beautiful? The scars on his hands are a reminder of the horrors he endured and yet, Elain calls them beautiful.

(It is almost as if she truly sees him, as well).

Finally, do you think that it’s a coincidence that Feyre, who witnessed both, Elain’s interaction with Lucien and Azriel, questions whether the Cauldron chose the right mate for Elain?

Again, we have the poetic description, and two contrasting images: brutal and lovely. And yet, Feyre looks at them and sees how compatible they truly are. She knows Lucien well—she considers him a friend—and yet, the chemistry between Azriel and Elain is so evident (and has been since ACOMAF), that she cannot help but wonder if the Cauldron made a mistake.

I would also like to draw your attention to the scene that Feyre witnesses between them. They are both sitting in silence and yet, they appear content. Do you know how rare it is to be in the same room with someone and not feel the need to fill the silence with conversation? I don’t know about you, but I’ve only ever experienced this feeling with the people I’m closest to. 

Azriel understands Elain’s need for peace and quiet (a need that he shares and can relate to, as well), and he chooses to stay with her in the garden (again, no one asked him to). She is comfortable enough around him to not mind his presence. In fact, with Elain drinking her tea and Azriel reading his reports, they are the very picture of domesticity.

Then, Azriel continues to seek out her presence.

Any interactions between them take place behind the scenes, but again, notice how Azriel is the one offering to keep her company in the garden. Feyre was going to do it herself, but he stepped in. What can we conclude from this?

He enjoys her company.

So much so that, after the Ravens’ attack, when Nesta worries about Elain, Rhys informs her that Azriel was still at the house when the attack happened.

The scenes that follow are the most widely discussed, so I will only mention them briefly:

It is not a coincidence that it was Azriel (and not Lucien) who figured out that Elain is a seer (nor is it a coincidence that he was the only one who truly listened to her, instead of thinking that she’s gone mad, like everyone else).

It is not a coincidence that he was the only one who thought of her when the Cauldron lured her away. Why didn’t Nesta, the overprotective older sister? Or Feyre, who dreamed of it happening? Why did Maas have Azriel utter, “What about Elain?”

It is not a coincidence that he was the one who risked his life to save hers (and not Lucien). 

I believe that, if Elain wasn’t already feeling some kind of pull towards Azriel, having him rescue her was the final push in that direction.

And it makes perfect sense.

She’s never seen by anyone (not even her sisters)—until she meets Azriel. Not only does he pay attention to what she needs, he keeps her company, and seemingly enjoys being in her presence.

Similarly, it makes perfect sense for Azriel to feel a pull towards Elain, as well.

Contrary to what a loud majority has been saying, Azriel does not need another Cassian or Mor in his life. He is quite obviously an introvert, who craves peace and quiet above all else. He is surrounded by extroverts and, if you’re an introvert, you know how draining it can be. It makes sense, then, that he gravitated towards Elain, whose temperament matches his.

Again, it all comes down to compatibility.

They understand each other.

He understands her need for peace and quiet, and she understands his.

They accept each other.

But, more importantly, they trust each other. 

It makes sense, doesn’t it? That he risked his life without a second thought to save hers. By the time Elain gets taken, Azriel and Elain have spent time in each other’s company and have quite obviously formed a bond/connection—a companionship of sorts, built on mutual understanding and acceptance.

She trusts him. She feels safe with him. Something that I guarantee she hasn’t felt since being violated and changed into a Fae against her will.

Similarly, he trusts her.

Why does Azriel give Truth-Teller, his legendary blade, to Elain? He doesn’t just let her touch it; he actually lends it to her, and trusts her enough to know that she’ll return it to him when she’s ready to.

In 500+ years, he has never let another person touch that blade—not even Mor, the woman he loves—but he parts with it for Elain.

Why? Because he knows that she cannot go into a battlefield unarmed, and understands that she, too, trusts him enough to accept it and use it if need be.

We, as readers, understand the importance of this moment. Maas draws our attention to Cassian’s shock, and includes the dialogue between Feyre and Rhys to underline, again and again, that something extremely significant is taking place.

So significant, in fact, that the scene was included in the coloring book and mentioned again in ACOFAS.

Maas is once again saying how rare this is. How different. How significant.

And what about the description? Like before, Maas uses poetic wording and contrasting imagery to describe Azriel and Elain.

The only bridge of connection—because what we are seeing, what we’ve been getting hints of, is two people who have slowly formed a connection.

Trust is earned.

Trust is built.

It does not happen overnight.

Remember—the majority of Azriel and Elain’s relationship takes place behind the scenes. We know that they are spending time together—and even have a description of some of their interactions—but we don’t really know what happens when it’s just the two of them.

This connection between them does not happen overnight.

ACOFAS takes place months after the war.

And what do we witness?

Azriel and Elain having grown even closer. In other words, we see progress and development.

He respects her, and cares about her. He makes everyone wait for her to be seated at the table, something he has never done before (similar to when he lended her Truth-Teller).

Again, that understanding.

And Azriel seeking out her company.

And Elain seeing him, paying attention to his needs.

Making him laugh like no one has ever had before.

And finally, them enjoying spending time in each other’s company. At 3 AM.

Azriel would rather sit and listen to Elain talk about her garden than go upstairs with the others.

Notice the pattern of understanding, trust, and connection that Maas has been coming back to (and increasing, strengthening) since ACOMAF.

Why, then, are readers surprised by their feelings?

More than two years have passed since their first meeting.

By the time we get a glimpse into Azriel’s thoughts and feelings, these two characters have been interacting and spending time with each other for years.

No, his feelings did not come out of nowhere.

No, their feelings are not cliché, or unrealistic.

No, he did not get over Mor after meeting Elain. In fact, we went from this in ACOMAF:

To this in ACOWAR:

And finally, to this, in ACOSF:

Again, remember: ACOSF takes place 1.5 years after ACOWAR, and almost 2 years after ACOMAF.

Azriel getting over Mor has been a gradual process. Same with Elain getting over Graysen.

Azriel does not see Elain as the third sister, one he is entitled to.

He actually sees Elain, something that Maas has been hinting at since ACOMAF.

The relationship (and feelings) between these two characters has been building for 2 years.

And 90% of it has taken place behind the scenes.

Azriel’s POV is proof of this:

What looks? What occasional brush of their fingers?

We’ve seen none of this.

And it makes sense.

We haven’t gotten their POVs yet.

Even Azriel’s POV is filled with the pattern that Maas has established for them since ACOMAF.

Understanding (and an ability to read each other without the use of words):

Trust:

Connection:

This is why their relationship is far more realistic (and healthy, but that’s a post for another time) than Feysand’s or Nessian’s. In a way, it reminds me of Kallias and Viviane’s (friends to lovers), who spent years developing a friendship, which then turned into romantic feelings.

Why?

Because they’ve had time.

Time to get to know each other, to connect with each other.

Time to develop a friendship which then slowly turned into romantic feelings and sexual desire.

This is also why I connect with and understand their relationship—more so than anyone else’s in the ACOTAR series.

[clairecrive]

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

[adarlingmess]

Ugnayan

Summary:

Filipino word, noun: connection between persons, groups, countries, etc.

A collection of works detailing a manananggal clan’s relations with the Treses, and their allies.

III: Hiraya

Summary:

Filipino word, noun: imagination, vision, illusion; the fruit of one’s dreams, wishes, and aspirations; a dream.

Basilio knows there’s a line he’s crossing, and he’s at the point of no return.

Words: 4144

Characters: Basilio, Sabina (OC), Crispin, Hank Sparrow, Alexandra Trese, Anton Trese, Reyna Manananggal, Dominic Villaceran (mentioned only), Mama Grande (mentioned only), Gog (mentioned only)

Relationships: Basilio/Original Female Character

Language: English, with a few Filipino words and phrases sprinkled in.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, discussion about past about non-con

Author’s Notes:

I am: back on my bullshit again (1)

Umagang kay kalat sa inyo, here’s part three of my Basilio x OC fic. Who knows, maybe I’ll write a proper story one day, but right now my Basilio brainrot is back with a vengeance. This was sitting in my hard drive since September and I thought maybe a day before Valentine’s day was a good day to finally post it in public. I couldn’t decide which scene to draw for the art tie-in so I ended up with a two-page comic 😩

Spoiler warning for Verdugo: Takutan because this story heavily references its lore and events! The comics are known to be darker in tone, and so is this fic, so heed the warnings above.

In hindsight, Sabina should’ve saved her last cigarette for later.

Now, she has nothing to calm her down except for the water flowing from the motel’s sink. Gingerly, she presses a finger on a bruised patch of skin on her neck. Even with her regenerative abilities, it’ll take a while to disappear. It’s been a while since her last feeding, too. She’ll need something substantial soon.

It’s fine. The bruises are nothing a little concealer couldn’t fix.

She steps out of the bathroom in nothing but the towel the motel staff provided. The air conditioner’s hum and the idle chatter on the television reached her ears.

The aroma of food reached her nose, and with her eyes, she saw her childhood friend sitting on the bed and helping himself to a chicken leg while watching TV.

“Chicken arrived while you were showering,” Basilio says, grinning at her. “They said the rest of the food will come soon.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings and Sabina answers it. An order of La Paz batchoy arrived courtesy of room service. She sets it on the table, where more servings of food can be found, and soiled dishes piled up in the corner. Sabina gathers the dirty dishes and hands them over to housekeeping with a quiet thank you.

The kitchen staff wasn’t sure whether they should be grateful for the patronage or frustrated at the volume of orders they received.

Of course a war demigod with an insatiable appetite and a ravenous aswang agreed to order everything on the menu.

Aswang metabolism will burn through all those calories like its paper. Sabina isn’t quite sure why the Kambal requires so much food to function, though. Fond memories of bonding over Hank’s cooking resurfaced.

Maybe she should visit the Diabolical again, this time for pleasure. Hopefully she can still request a plate of spaghetti from Hank, even though the place is a bar now.

Basilio reaches for the other chicken leg and Sabina has no other choice but to swat his hand.

“That’s mine,” she warns him, playfully.

With a pout, Basilio settles on the crispy pata instead. “Ang daya.”

“Anong madaya?” Sab crosses her arms. “You already had the other leg. Takaw mo.” Sabina sits next to him in the bed and helps herself to the food. She finishes the chicken leg in no more than a few bites. Then, she made a quick trip to the table to retrieve the steaming bowl of soup.

Basilio nudges her playfully when she sits back down to eat. “You’re one to talk.”

Sabina laughs and playfully rolls her eyes. She was about to take her first sip when Basilio’s arm quickly shot out to stop her. “Wait, this has garlic in it.”

“Duh, I could smell it cooking from the kitchen while I was in the shower.”

“Isn’t garlic going to hurt you?”

Sabina hums and takes a sip of the broth to show him she’ll be fine. Her face turns red, and not from embarrassment. “See? I’m fine. I’m pretty sure you had spicy food before, right?”

Basilio remembers that time he bit into a slice of siling labuyo in the vinegar that came with Hank’s crispy beef tapa. He nods.

“It burns, right? Garlic’s spicy when I eat it. I’ve built a tolerance to it to blend in with the humans.”

“No wonder smearing crushed garlic on a manananggal’s lower half would kill her. That must be one hell of a burn.”

Sabina laughs at the morbid turn their conversation took. “I mean, if I took crushed sili and smeared it all over a human’s wound, it’s going to hurt too.”

“What about waving garlic around to repel aswang? Why does that work?”

“It’s the same principle as humans cutting onions. It irritates our eyes, but the effect is stronger due to our sharper senses. So yes, before you ask, I could smell your feet the moment you took your shoes off earlier and somehow I still decided to have fun with you.”

Basilio pouts. “Oy! My feet don't-” he takes his foot up to sniff it- “ok, fine, it’s a little funky.”

For the first time in years, Basilio witnesses Sabina roar with laughter, lively and unabashed. “And a little is a lot to us aswang!”

Despite the teasing, Basilio laughs with her.

She rests her chin on his shoulder as she calms down.

A few years ago, she would’ve been resting her chin on Basilio’s head. She used to loom over him; a weeping willow drawn to his more outgoing nature. Then, she stopped growing when she was twelve, while somewhere down the line, the Kambal got a growth spurt and they’re almost a foot taller than her.

Life is unfair.

Sabina finished the last of her soup, and popped a piece of candy in her mouth. Basilio notices it, interest piqued.

“Hey, isn’t that the same candy you used to bring us when we were kids? I missed those.”

“Yeah. This was the last piece I had with me though.”

Basilio smirks. “We could share it.”

“Hay nako, Bas, you…”

Her train of thought stops when a news report interrupts regular programming. News of the stunt they just pulled off reached the airwaves. From the studio, the broadcast transitions to the scene of the incident. Then, it cuts to an angry Gog, Mama Grande’s eldest son, pushing reporters gunning for a statement aside.

Basilio guessed that if her son was pissed, Mama Grande definitely was too.

Sabina grabs the remote and switches it to the music channel.

“Uy, I was watching that!”

“Sorry. Bad memories.”

With a questioning look, Basilio turns to her. “Ex boyfriend?”

Sabina scoffs, furrowing her eyebrows. “Wasn’t even a boyfriend. Send Verdugo my thanks for taking out his eye. I’d say thank you myself, but he might turn me into a leather coin purse.”

“This Gog guy really hurt you badly, huh?”

Basilio guessed that his lady friend was pushing back horrible memories, and he was right.

“Can we drop it? I just don’t wanna see his mug.”

“Okay,” Basilio shrugs. He finishes the rest of his meal and adds the plate to the pile. After washing his hands in the bathroom, he plops next to his playmate.

“Why don’t you look at my mug instead while I make you forget all about him?”

Basilio’s chuckle was almost cruel when he saw Sabina’s eyes widen. The aswang princess is bashful in person compared to her self-assured demeanor when she’s either crooning or shrieking into a mic on the stage, or a gun when she’s perched on a rooftop. She reminds him of the candy she used to give him and his Kuya Crispin when they were young; they impatiently bit through the hard peppermint snaps, only to find molten chocolate in the core.

He buries his nose at the crook of her neck. Sabina smells of soap and that same peppermint candy, layered with hints of vanilla and a floral note he couldn’t quite place.

Basilio wants to eat her all up.

“Wait, you wanna go again? You already finished, Bas. You made me finish twice. Not that I’m complaining...”

Taking the empty bowl from Sabina’s hand, Basilio sets it by the bedside table, and he cages his old friend between his arms.

“Let’s make it even then.” He leans in to croon in her ear. “I still have some fight in me. We can go for a few more rounds if you’re up for it, pillow princess.”

A warm tongue lapping at a darkening bruise on her collarbone makes Sabina shudder. “Brush your teeth before you put your mouth anywhere near my-”

Before they knew it, they’re laying on the bed, an exhausted pile of limbs tangled with each other. Basilio cradles his lady friend’s head on his bicep, and he buries his nose in her messy crown of hair.

There’s blood on the sheets from when Sabina had clawed her lover’s back to shreds. Thankfully, his back has already healed. On the other hand, the loving bruises his mouth left on her skin aren’t going away soon. She’s panting, one leg over his thigh.

“That was not a few more rounds,” Sabina mumbles, catching her breath.

Basilio licks his lips, and draws her closer to him. “Princess, the fact that you can still talk means those weren’t enough rounds.”

A breathless laugh escapes Sabina’s lips. “Ugh, you are an incorrigible pervert!”

Basilio raises an eyebrow at her, and he smirks. “You’re one to talk. Where did you even learn that trick with your tongue?”

“I can’t give away all of my secrets.” Sabina smiles, content and sleepy. “The first time I got with someone in years and it got this intense…”

“We lasted more rounds than Manuel’s last boxing match,” Basilio chuckles.

“We sure did, you perv. How long have you wanted to do this?” Sabina asks, lightly pressing on a tender bruise on her neck, one of the many marks he left on her skin. “Para kang mauubusan.”

Basilio doesn’t choose to respond, opting to bury his face in her hair. Sabina didn’t have to look at his face to know that he’s wearing a satisfied smile on his lips.

She checks the time on her phone. Almost five in the morning. As nocturnal creatures, it’s the equivalent of bedtime for most aswang. She sends a quick explanation and an apology to her bandmates for suddenly leaving them the night before, and tosses her phone aside. Then, she takes off her glasses.

Their activities made her desperate for sleep.

Turning back to her lover, she settles in his arms, and notices a pattern on his right shoulder, extending all the way to his chest. Sabina traces it with a feather-light touch. “So, where did you get this tattoo?”

“It’s not a tattoo. It’s a birthmark, I think.”

“I haven’t seen it when we were younger, though.”

Sabina eyes it with curiosity, letting her thoughts occupy her so sleep couldn’t. She should be getting dressed and going home. She wonders why Basilio isn’t moving either.

“Isn’t Alex-” she corrects herself, thinking that using the Lakan’s name is far too casual for an informant like her- “I mean Trese going to look for you?”

“Shhh, let’s not think about work for now. C’mon. Get some rest.”

Stretching as she yawns, Sabina closes her eyes. “If you say so.”

Minutes later, she feels that his eyes are still on her, and she sticks out a tongue.

“Close your eyes,” the aswang mumbles, groggy and a little irritated, eyes heavy with sleep. 

“But I like you.”

“You can still like me with your eyes closed.”

Basilio began to play with her crown of wavy hair. Sabina huffs in amusement and snuggles closer to his chest.

When he pressed a kiss on her forehead, she felt warmth spread through her face. In response, she cranes her neck to look at him. Taken aback by the intimacy he’s showing her, her misty eyes search his pitch-black ones for an answer.

“Basilio, I…”

“I missed you, Sab.”

They share a sweet, drawn-out kiss as they lay entangled in each other’s arms.

It’s like the one she gave him the day she said goodbye, from a more innocent time.

“I missed you too,” she mumbles against his mouth.

Perhaps in the flurry of the night’s events and the haze of her feelings for the demigod, she had let her guard down.

They stopped being in each other’s lives all of a sudden, and just like that, reconnection was just as abrupt. However, the innocence from the days of playing tagu-taguan and bahay-bahayan is long gone. The warm camaraderie they shared grew to a smoldering fire.

The tension boiled over and neither of them stopped themselves from reacting to it.

Sabina had let him crawl under her skin, and Basilio knew this.

Basilio caresses her cheek, and her hand touches his arm. The princess’ eyes flutter shut, with tiny droplets of tears resting on her long eyelashes.

He reminisces about the day he and his kuya met her.

Peals of laughter echoed in the Diabolical Cafe as he ran from Crispin in a game of taya. Their footsteps pounded against the floor and the walls, which alerted Hank to their presence. He put his cleaver down and called them over.

A sutsot from Hank could mean one of two things: he needs to say something important to them, or he’s about to deliver a scolding.

The Kambal stops in their tracks, floating over to Hank.

“There’s someone taking a nap on the couch,” he tells them. “You two, be polite and keep the noise down.”

“A guest?” Basilio asks. “Why would a guest sleep on the couch?”

“Because they’re sleepy, duh,” Crispin retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Before the two can squabble, Hank cuts them off with an explanation. “That’s the Reyna Manananggal’s kid. Don’t mess with her or you might end up as aswang chow.”

The two nod in unison, and float away from him to play somewhere else.

Curiosity gets the best of Basilio when he looks over his shoulder and sees wavy hair sticking out from the sofa. He sneaks away from his brother’s sight to investigate.

“A girl!”

Hank squints at him, an unamused look on his face. “Oy Basilio, I’m warning you!”

It was too late. Crispin comes over to investigate too.

The younger Kambal kneels in front of the sofa to get a closer look. The girl clinging onto a pillow, pressing it close to her chest. She wore her hair in low pigtails, the waves cascading down her shoulders. On the bridge of her nose, her glasses perched askew. Behind the glasses, Basilio could see that her eyelashes were long. She snored lightly. On her school ID, whose lanyard was tied to her purple school trolley, it says that she goes to “St. Agnes’ Academy for Girls”. In capital letters, her name is spelled out for Basilio: Sabina Marie A. Evasco.

“She’s pretty!” Basilio didn’t modulate his voice at all, and his excitement was to blame. “She doesn’t look like a manananggal… or even an aswang. If her mama’s a reyna, does that make her a prinsesa?”

Crispin puts a forefinger against his own lips and hushes his little brother. “Shh! We can ask her later when she wakes up! Let’s get out of here!”

Awakened by the chatter, the girl stirs and stretches her arms. She takes off her glasses and rubs the sleep from her eyes. There’s a small, blurry figure in front of her.

A kid like her. Finally, she was waiting for a playmate!

Hank said there’s a girl a few years older than her that she can play with when the grownups’ meeting is over.  Maybe they can braid each other’s hair. Sabina Marie thinks she’s small for someone older though.

When she put on her glasses, however, she found out that playmate wasn’t a girl at all. Hank had told her about two brothers who were around her age too.

She blinks a few times. Her sleepiness turns into surprise. “Ah! A boy!”

Crispin tsked. “Yan tuloy! Basilio woke her up!”

Basilio flashes a winning grin. “Hehe. Sorry I woke you up, Sleeping Beauty.”

From the kitchen, Hank couldn’t help but laugh. “Oy, tama na ang pick-up line. Magpakilala ka ng ayos.”

“Hi, I’m Basilio.”

“I’m Crispin. I’m his kuya.”

The girl looks at them back and forth, fascinated by the fact that they’re twins. Their features are identical, save for the lengths of their hair. The one more eager to talk to her, Basilio, had longer hair tied to a ponytail. The older, quieter one, Crispin, had his hair cut short and neat. 

She decides that they’re nice and gives them a shy smile.

“Hi. I’m Sabina Marie.”

“Your name’s too long. Can I call you Sab?” Basilio asks her, scooting closer.

“Um, sure!”

Gregarious little Basilio sits next to her on the couch, and the more reserved Crispin joins them. They chat idly, and not long after, they’re off to play a game of taya.

Hearing about their plan, Hank calls out. “Oy, you two, she’s not used to playing with boys so treat her gently.”

The younger of the two interjects defensively. “We’re not gonna hit her!”

“Promise!” Crispin adds.

Little Sabina Marie giggles as her new playmates grab her by the hand to lead her outside. “C’mon, let’s play!”

“Let me comb your hair later!”

“Whatever makes you happy, princess!”

The afternoon came and went, and by the end of it, they’re sitting on the table, red-faced, sweaty, and hungry from an afternoon of play. Each of them enjoyed a plate of Hank’s spaghetti with hotdogs and a tall glass of cold orange juice for merienda. Crispin is sitting next to his brother, while Basilio is sitting next to their new friend.

They finished their meal and Sabina digs around her uniform’s skirt pocket. She brings out individually wrapped pieces of candy.

“Do you want some?” she asks the Kambal, and smiles sweep across their faces.

“Uy, candy!” the two almost say in unison. Their grabby hands were more than eager to take them off Sabina Marie’s. They eagerly wolfed the peppermint snaps down.

“Oy, leave some for her,” Hank scolded them, chuckling.

“It’s okay, they can have it. My new mama- I mean, Inang Reyna has more in her office.”

Hank turns to the boys. “At least thank her for the candy.”

“Thanks Sab,” Crispin says with a mouthful of sweets, and his brother follows suit. “Yeah, thanks for the candy!”

At least the attempts to instill some good manners in the boys are working, and Hank helps the children clear the table.

“Are you gonna be back again to play tomorrow?” Crispin asks, passing a plate to his new friend.

“If Inang Reyna lets me, sure.”

“We could ask permission from her if you want,” Basilio suggests. “I’m sure she’ll let us!”

All Hank could do was rub the back of his neck.

They are Talagbusao’s children, for crying out loud. Everyone in the council is a little fearful of them, but the proud, clannish aswang were especially spooked.

Sabina hesitated. “Um…”

Multiple footsteps are approaching. Before the Kambal’s new friend can give her answer, all the children turn and see various members of the council emerging from the library. Among them was a tall, regal woman in a red business suit. Without saying a word, little Sabina Marie gets off her stool to greet her.

The lady in red crinkles her nose. “Ugh, Sabina Marie, what happened to you? Amoy araw ka. Did you play under the sun?” She made no effort to wipe her sweat off. Instead, a teenage girl comes forth to tend to her.

“I made new friends. We played a game of taya outside,” Sabina tells her, motioning to the Kambal. For a brief moment, the Reyna Manananggal’s composure wavers, lips twitching into a deep frown, before she clears her throat and places a hand on Sabina’s head. On the other hand, the teenage girl beside the queen wasn’t as subtle with her disapproval, eyeing the brothers warily and pressing her younger sister closer to herself.

“Maria Rowena,” the queen addresses the teenager, “go take your little sister to the car. I’ll follow shortly after.”

“Opo, Inang Reyna.”

Rowena ushers Sabina, grabbing her by the forearm. “Wait, Ate Weng. I haven’t said goodbye to them yet.”

“Those boys are dangerous, Sabina. Let’s. Go.”

Little Sabina Marie gives her new pals a haphazard wave goodbye, confused by the entire situation. “Huh? But they’ve been nice to me. Why are they dangerous, Ate?”

“I’ll explain in the car! Stop. Asking. Questions.”

“I will if you give me an answer that makes sense!”

The sisters squabble on their way out, and Crispin and Basilio are just as confused as to why their new playmate is suddenly being whisked away.

Being the bolder of the two, Basilio dares to ask the queen a question. “Can she come back to play with us?”

The queen of the Manananggal clan turns to him, crossing her arms. “No.”

“Why not?” Basilio asks. His Kuya Crispin comes forward, taking his place at his brother’s side in his defense; the Reyna Manananggal wasn’t looking at Basilio with kindness.

“Little boy, do you know what you are?”

The Kambal gave each other confused looks. Leaving the kitchen, Hank approaches them, ready to smooth talk the kids’ way out of trouble.

Thankfully, he won’t need to.

Anton approaches with Alexandra in tow. “That’s enough. Children should be allowed to play and live normal lives. That includes your new daughter, as agreed upon in the council’s emergency meeting.”

The Reyna Manananggal narrows her eyes. “Talagbusao’s half-breeds are a danger to everyone they meet and you know it. I didn’t adopt a new daughter just for her to become these warchildren’s plaything.”

“I can assure you that they’re being taught how to treat others with kindness and respect.”

“Is that so? Don’t take me for a fool, Lakan. I have my own connections. I’ve heard about their mother’s fate. What makes you say that these brats won’t grow up to take after their father?”

Anton’s gaze hardens to a glare. “Let’s not talk about that in front of the children,” he cuts her off. “I don’t like what you’re implying, Reyna.”

Crispin and Basilio looked at the adults back and forth the whole time, unable to make sense of what they really meant. Even with the violent ways they were exposed to, the innocence of childhood somehow remained.

The Reyna Manananggal glares back in response. “Don’t tell me it never crossed your mind, that any attempts at taming their desire for bloodlust and domination will not work.”

“I’ve made it clear in the past that I will be held responsible when they go out of control. Worry not about how I raise Crispin and Basilio. It’s Sabina you should worry about.”

“Are you questioning my parenting? I thought we already settled in the meeting that I’m more than capable of taking Sabina Marie under my wing. I’ve even agreed to postponing her initiation to the manananggal clan until she’s sixteen years old.”

“I’m not. I’m simply reminding you of what these children need. Family. Friends.”

The queen sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. She crosses her arms again, taking one last nervous glance at the warchildren. “Fine. As long as you don’t meddle with how I raise my children, Lakan, I’ll allow their little playdates with my daughter.”

“As long as the stipulations are upheld, there’s no meddling to be done.”

“And if they lay a finger even on a single lock of her hair-”

“They will be disciplined. I’ll personally see to that.”

Conceding, the Reyna Manananggal uncrosses her arms and gives the Lakan’s lot one last look. “Hmph.”

Heels clacking against the cafe’s floor, she walks away, ready to be done with this sordid affair.

Once all of the guests leave, the Trese household settles down. Alex sat with Hank and they discussed what happened in the council meeting, while Anton tended to the boys. They were sitting on the couch, not a sound from the normally rambunctious pair. At the moment, they look like kicked puppies.

“Are we really a danger to anyone we meet?” the older of the two asks, frowning.

His little brother was affected by the queen’s treatment more deeply, pouting and looking forlorn. What she said got under his skin, horribly so. “Sir, what are we? Why are so many people afraid of us?”

Anton looks at Hank, then his daughter, and back to the twins. They all share a look of understanding. “Boys, I think it’s time that we talk.”

At that point, the now adult Basilio stops reminiscing. He didn’t want to reopen that wound.

He focuses on Sabina instead, who’s now fast asleep. She almost looked the same the day he found her on the couch. Sleep is the only time her face looks relaxed.

The realization sinks in, and so does the guilt.

Basilio just got intimate with his childhood friend, maybe his first love, if he can call what he felt for her back then love. Worse, she happens to be an aswang, the Reyna Manananggal’s daughter. Worst of all, Sabina is their informant; their informant for aswang activity, no less.

Bossing is going to kill him.

He closes his eyes. He’ll deal with that after some sleep.

Sabina’s soft breaths kisses his skin, and he thinks this was totally worth the scolding he’ll receive.

Crossing paths with his childhood friend again was a pleasant surprise. Holding her like this is a dream come true.

Basilio kisses her temple, and he holds her as slumber takes hold of him.

Translations:

La Paz batchoy - a local Filipino noodle dish with pork offal, crushed pork cracklings, chicken stock, beef loin and round noodles/miki

Ang daya. - That’s unfair.

Anong madaya? - What do you mean unfair?

Takaw mo. - You glutton.

Siling labuyo - a small chili pepper cultivar developed in the Philippines.

Hay nako - an expression similar to “Oh my”; some linguists say it comes from “Nanay ko po!” which means “Oh my Mother!”. Used to express frustration or exasperation.

Para kang mauubusan. - Lit. “It’s like you’ll run out (of me)”. Another way to translate this is “It’s like you can’t get enough.”

tagu-taguan - hide and seek

bahay-bahayan - playing house

taya - tag

sutsot - a hiss; a psst sound

Yan tuloy! - an expression when something unfortunate happens; can be translated as “Now look at what happened!”

Oy, tama na ang pick-up line. Magpakilala ka ng ayos. - Hey, enough with the pick-up lines. Introduce yourself properly.

Inang Reyna - lit. Queen Mother.

[remakethestars]

Being Damian Wayne's Twin Sister Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Exactly. I don't ask my dog to drive, and I don't ask the Justice League to solve my problems.❞

— Damian Wayne, Adventures of the Super Sons #9: Showdown on Hexworld

TRIGGER WARNING: Cursing, (Damian’s) death. Mentions of toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny, nightmares, blood, knives.

Headcanon masterlist.

When people ask you, “So, which one of you is the evil twin?” Damian always glowers, and you always motion to him.

You look disturbingly alike when only your eyes are showing; Damian’s got long lashes. Talia taught you a good tactic for tag-teaming in combat as kids was to pull up your hinged balaclavas and make the enemy think there was only one of you, that they’re seeing double.

Or for one of you to hang back while the other attacks as a distraction before the other knocks them out from behind.

Obviously, this won’t work when the two of you start filling out, but it works when you’re kids. It’s the reason why, even off the field, the two of you usually wear a matching outfits with hoods.

You utilize the same methods when she sends you to live with Bruce.

You don the Robin costume just like he does, much to the rest of the Batfam’s confusion (both because they weren’t expecting it and because they can’t tell you apart either), but sticking with the “red” theme, you go by Redstart.

There’s a rumor on the street that Robin V. is a meta that can teleport.

The two of you are freakishly good at mimicking the other’s voice and mannerisms, which makes it even harder for your family.

Jason tells you two about April Fools Day, and you make the most of it. Of course, Damian’s a pain in the a$$ and decides to go around pretending to be you and getting into trouble. You’re banned from the mall, and you still have no idea why. 

The two of you can communicate with just an impassive expression (Dick says it looks like a prime example of twin telepathy to anyone else), but anyone close to you knows sh¡t’s about to hit the fan when the two of you look at each other and smirk.

If it’s something you can’t communicate nonverbally, you use your cryptophasia. 

Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins when they’re learning to talk. Most of them grow out of it, you and Damian decided to keep developing it so it became more of a conlang. No one else has been taught to speak it, and they never will be. It’s for emergencies only.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was your Bible growing up, and the two of you call out verses when you fight together and need the other to understand a tactic (you both inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory, so you’ve got it memorized).

When you get too big to pull off the which-is-which game, you make your own costume and become the true Redstart. 

It’s basically Damian’s Robin uniform (the Super Sons’s version is the only one I’ll accept), but the boots and gloves are black, the biceps have a white stripe, the lining of the cape is white (the lining of the hood is black), the gold accents become white, it has a zipper down the front instead of clasps, and the mask becomes black (including the eyes). The waterline of the eyes is white. Like a painted redstart.

If Damian’s into animals, you’re into plants. The two of you find common ground on the fact that pollution sucks, so when you walk Titus, you take a trash bag and gloves with you to pick up litter as you go.

You did not want to go to Jon’s school. 

Not because you don’t like Jon (because you do), but because you know you could run intellectual circles around every one of those snot-nosed brats. 

School is stupid. Especially because the American education system is subpar; everything about it is.

You hardly pay attention in class. You do all of the homework a week ahead of time incase something comes up. Usually you’re doing next week’s homework in class. You’ve written entire papers on your phone in Google Docs in the middle of class to be printed out later.

If you’ve already done everything, Damian’s usually drawing and you’re daydreaming or you’re working on a case on your phone.

The teachers are always trying to catch you not paying attention, but you little sh¡ts can always answer their questions. 

Damian’s closest with Dick, but you’re closest with Tim. You admire his ability to plan ahead (see the entirety of the Red Robin comics), and you know that he’s better than both your father and your grandfather; you want to be as good as him when you grow up.

It takes a long time to wash the toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny our of your head, to learn that your grandfather’s ideas of “strength” were wrong, that it’s okay to lean on someone besides Damian, that you can be just as strong as your brother and still be feminine, that there are acceptable emotions besides anger.

Actually, your father teaches you that anger is more likely to get you killed. He won’t let you go into the field when he knows your angry.

It’s harder to drill out of you than your instinct to kill.

There’s a Lebanese restaurant called Tarbooshes (Teen Titans Special #1) the two of you go to when you’re feeling homesick. They make ox blood soup the same way your mother did, and it’s the only non-vegetarian thing Damian will eat for that very reason.

It’s nice to have a place to go where they know you by name and know what you want when you tell them “the usual.” It’s nice to have a place where you’re not a Wayne or an Al Ghul, where you’re just [Y/N] and Damian.

You disappear for an hour on your birthday to eat there. Bruce has asked you were you go, but you kept that between the two of you. 

Speaking of birthdays, you’re eleven minutes older than him. He was six pounds and ten ounces (Batman & Robin #0?), and you were a solid seven.

After Damian died, you go to Tarbooshes to feel close to him.

You were doing all right with the no-killing thing until the night Damian died.

Heretic never stood a chance.

He looked so much like Damian it gave you nightmares, though. Nightmares where you killed your twin brother and woke up sobbing.

Damian didn’t give you a speech in his last moments. He just looked over at you and said in your cryptophasia, “I’m sorry.” 

Not “I love you.” Not “Take care of them for me.” You knew that; you’d do that. He didn’t have to tell you, and he didn’t have to ask.

Just “I’m sorry.” Sorry that you were the one that was left behind.

It’s one thing to lose a family member, to lose a friend, or to lose a lover. It’s another to lose half of your soul.

The two of you had always feared you would die apart. It had always been a possibility; you weren’t stupid enough to think, “It’ll never happen to me.” Because it definitely could. 

And it had.

You wanted to run away from everything. Even just for a while. Go to one of your safe houses in London or France or whatever and just — you didn’t know — stare at the wall until you felt better? But you’d made that unspoken promise to Damian — “I’ll take care of them for you; don’t worry.” — to take care of Titus and Catfred and Jerry and Batcow and Goliath, to take care of Alfred and Bruce and Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Tim, to take care of Jon and Colin and Maps.

You avoided the cave. And if you had to go down there for some reason, you refused to look at the Robin suits.

Dick noticed. He asked if you wanted them taken down, even just for a while. You gave him a look like he was nuts and said, “No.”

Jon was a mess. More of a mess than you were, somehow. 

You’d shown up at the Kents’s. Jon was out doing Superboy things with Clark and Conner. Lois was the only one home.

You nearly scared her out of her skin when you materialized behind her and asked, “Is Jon home? It’s important.” 

He had to know first. He deserved to.

For all he put up with from you two, he deserved to be the first to know when one of you was f*cking dead.

Lois, of course, bless her heart, had the mom instincts to know that you were in no way, shape, or form okay even when you were trying so hard to hold yourself together. She asked you what’s wrong, and it’s what made you break. 

Your lip trembled. “He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Damian,” your voice broke. “He’s dead.” 

Jon came home to find you in his living room in your Robin uniform, covered in Damian’s and Heretic’s blood, snot running down your lip, sobbing in his mothers arms and knew what happened without having to ask. He did anyway.

When you and Jon both finally passed out, your Uncle Clark flew you back to the Batcave. No one was in any condition — not even Alfred — so he carried you up to your room; took your boots, mask, cape, and gloves off; and tucked you in. Then he went to find Bruce because there was no doubt he was losing it too.

Bruce doesn’t tell you anything about trying to find a way to bring him back without the Lazarus pit because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up. 

You walk into your room one day to find Damian sitting there reading the dissertation (the requirement was three pages, not 120, but your teacher would just have to deal with your coping mechanisms) you had been working on for your World History class and left up on your laptop while on patrol. 

He said with the utmost indifference, “You’ve made some good points, Sister,” and, of course, you pulled out a knife and attacked him because this was — was — was some shapeshifting alien or hologram tech or a cruel joke — your twin was dead, this wasn’t funny, whoever did this was going to pay.

He met you blow-for-blow and flipped away from you before saying, “And here I was expecting a warm welcome,” in your cryptophasia. 

“Brother?” 

“Tt. Obviously.” 

Yeah, a college level thesis. You’re smart. You inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory and were raised by assassins.

You learned seven languages and wrote five doctoral theses by the time your teeth came in, wrote your first letter to a newspaper editor when you were two, could’ve had a geology doctorate when you were seven (Super Sons #1), and it only took you a week to learn the language on Takron-Galtos. You’re smart.

You’re also incredibly skilled. You learned to drive when you were five (Super Sons #1), your mother trained you to go for weeks without eating (Adventures of the Super Sons #6), you can micro-sleep for days and converse with half your brain asleep, can use a muscular contraction to move your liver out of the way of a blade (Nightwing #20), and can place yourself in a deep trance to heal damages caused by a hematoma (also #20).

(My dumba$$ didn’t note what Super Sons/Adventure of the Super Sons comic I was reading when I took notes, so I don’t have all of them noted in the two above bullet points. But that’s where they’re from. If I end up rereading them, I’ll edit this and add the comic numbers.)

The first time on patrol you thought Bruce was gonna die, you called him Baba. 

The next evening, when Dick came to visit the cave, he turned to you and Damian and asked, “So, which one of you called him Dad?” 

“How’d you know?” you asked. 

“He’s smiling the way he did the day I called him Tati.”

“He’s not smiling,” Damian pointed out.

“He is on the inside.”

Can we talk about how royally the Arkham Knights game screwed up Tim Drake? (Though, everything seems to screw up Tim one way or another, I guess.) Why does he look like a quidditch player in the gif above the cut?

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I’m a dumb white American, and I don’t know much about Arab or Romani culture other than what I’ve learned online. I hope I got it right?? If I didn’t, please drop a comment or P.M. me or something to let me know!

[powdermelonkeg]

Secrets in the Breeze

"What do you think it is?"

Several sets of eyes fell on the tablet Hyrule had unearthed, pondering its use. Legend studied the pattern critically. "Hmm..." He reached down and wiped away some dirt. "...It looks like song magic."

"Those aren't notes I recognize..." Sky said with a frown. “Are you sure?”

“No. But that’s my best guess until I can study it better.”

Hyrule reached for his recorder. “Well, we can find out pretty quickly, right?”

Time held out a hand to stop him. He gave the strange tablet a thoughtful look. "...Everyone, stand back."

The other four in the hunting party quickly gave him distance as he pulled out his indigo ocarina. The marks looked a little different, but...Drawing in a breath, he lifted the instrument to his lips.

The other heroes watched in anticipation.

...Silence.

Time frowned, glancing around the area. “...Did anyone notice anything happening?”

“I don’t think so.” Wild paused, peering at the sky outside the cavern. “Not unless you have a song for causing rain.”

“I do. This isn’t it.”

“Wait, really?”

Time offered a small smile. “A conversation for another time. Let’s get back before the others decide to come looking for us.”

“Do you think they decided to cook something themselves?” Hyrule asked, grabbing his game bag.

Sky scrunched up his nose. “Goddess, I hope not. I can still taste that...reekfish thing.”

Wild raised his hand. “I liked it.”

“You eat rocks. You don’t get to judge what tastes good.”

As the others went ahead, Legend glanced back at the strange tablet. After a moment’s consideration, he wrenched it free of the earth and tucked it under his arm.

It needed to be studied further.

“There you are!” Warriors exclaimed, halfway through putting up the oil tarp for the rain. “We were just about to get a search party ready.”

“He means he was about to go running off after you,” Twilight said, giving his well-polished counterpart a side-eye, then shook his head. “Anyways, we’re all hungry. What took you?”

Hyrule rubbed the back of his head. “Secret cave.” He gave a nod to Wild. “He spotted some fragile rocks and wanted to blow them up.”

“Find anything?”

“Yeah, actually.” Legend held out the tablet. “Song magic script. Do any of you guys recognize this?”

Twi, Four, and Wars all frowned as they looked at the markings, but Wind lit up instantly. He threw his hand in the air. “I do!” he exclaimed. “That’s 4/4 time; it’s conductors notes!”

Time raised an eyebrow. “Conductor’s notes?”

“Uh-huh. It’s how song magic works on the Great Sea.” Wind tilted his head to the side. “Though, I don’t know this song. What is it?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that.” Legend said, sitting down by the fire. “Think you can play a tune for us?”

Wind’s eye’s shone, and he pulled out his silver baton, looking to Time for confirmation. “Can I?”

The older hero frowned, considering. “...Not this close to the fire. Or to bad weather. For all we know, it’s a Lyric of Lightning or something equally as dangerous.”

Wind’s shoulders slumped, and Four patted his back. “Cheer up,” he said. “You can still try it out tomorrow. Besides,” he flashed the younger hero a smile, “we should eat before it rains, right? I’m hungry, aren’t you?”

“...Yeah,” Wind relented. He gave one last wistful look at the tempo pattern.

Soon, he told himself. Soon, I’ll learn your secrets.

Rain pattered outside the heroes’ shelter, the soothing sound and calm scent of petrichor letting even the most troubled of them sleep undisturbed, for once.

Well...almost all of them.

Wind managed the 2 AM watch at the edge of camp, eyeing Legends tools and trying to coax himself out of the temptation to try the new song. It had been so long since he’d run into a tablet like that; the thrill of new abilities or hidden passages was a siren’s call to the young adventurer.

Up, down, up, right. It was so simple.

What could it do?

Wind found himself fantasizing about the possibilities. Maybe it calls birds, he thought. Or summons fairies, or lets you talk to rocks. He glanced up at the stormclouds. Or maybe the old man’s right and it’s a lightning song. How cool would that be?

He pictured it; calling down lightning like one of the mages of legend, with just a swish of the Wind Waker. He could take out entire monster camps in one fell swoop!

His eyes drifted back to the tablet by Legend’s bag.

...If it’s really a lightning song, then it won’t work if we wait for the storm to clear, Wind thought to himself, pulling out his baton.

He needed to try it out.

Just to test it. Time would understand, right?

Stealthily, he crept over and grabbed the stone, carefully pulling it over to his post at the tarp’s edge, and stood in front of it. The Wind Waker sparkled with magic intent.

The stone shimmered, triangle carvings lighting up; orange, yellow, orange, blue. Light bled through the cracks, and—

—it crumbled to dust.

Wind’s jaw dropped.

...Legend was going to kill him.

He shoved the Wind Waker back into his bag hastily, trying to keep calm. This is fine, right? If he doesn’t say anything, then nobody can blame him, and Legend could chalk it up to age! Relics break all the time!

...Except Time’s disapproving frown would crack Wind for sure. There was no evading that; it was almost as bad as when his grandma gave him the look of disappointment. He was doomed.

Ping!

Wind’s ears twitched, momentarily distracted from his crisis by the sound. A soft purple glow caught his eye.

Ping!

The Master Sword gave another call, the sliver of visible blade pulsing with lavender light among Sky’s things.

Wind stared at the sacred sword, uncertain. “...What is it?” he whispered.

Ping!

He reached out to take it, then hesitated.

Sky was going to kill him too.

...No. He couldn’t, right? The Master Sword was just as much Wind’s as anyone else here; besides, he’d just borrow it. Sky could have it back. He reached out for the blade.

Ping!

Four shifted in his sleep, and Wind froze, staring at the shorter hero. If the sword woke anyone up before he could fix the tablet situation, he was toast.

Ping!

Panicking, Wind snatched the sword up and ran outside, trying to silence it before it could make any more noise. He would deal with the consequences later, when the others woke up at a normal time. Once he was safely in the white noise of rainfall, Wind drew the blade. “Alright, what is it?” he demanded, holding it level with his eyes as if he could scold it. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Ping, ping, ping—

He frowned as it began to beep faster, lowering it. “Come on, I can’t deal with-”

Ping! Ping!

He paused, then lifted it up again.

Ping, ping, ping—

He lowered it.

Ping! Ping!

Back up.

Ping, ping, ping—

Wind tilted his head curiously. Experimentally, he spun in a slow circle.

Ping, ping, ping ping ping PINGPINGPING ping ping—

“Are you...trying to show me something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Watching it closely, he pointed the sword in the direction that caused the most noise and light.

Into the forest.

He glanced back at camp. If he stayed behind, they could all go after whatever this was together...after he got a scolding for breaking Legend’s stuff, and endangering the camp, and not listening to the old man...

Yeah, no. Forest it is.

Sky rolled over in his sleep, his dreams filled with endless skies and blue loftwings. Clouds rolled in over the picnic of pumpkin soup he was having with Zelda.

Fragrant, but suffocating clouds. He couldn’t breathe.

He bolted awake, fighting whatever was cutting off his air and defeating the tangled sailcloth in a heroic and not-at-all frantic wrestling match. His eyes fell on the white fabric as he caught his breath.

...He should stop wearing this thing to bed.

With a sigh, he unpinned it from his shoulders and went to wrap it around Fi. If he couldn’t have the comforts of home, at least she could. He reached for the blade—

—and grasped nothing but air.

With a frown, the hero fumbled for his tinderbox and lit a match, struggling a moment to make a spark in the damp storm air, then looked around for his trusty blade. The longer he searched, the more he could feel ice creep into his veins; he even rifled through the luggage of the usual borrowers of the Master Sword.

“Sky?”

His attention snapped over to the source of the voice. Time was looking at him with an eyebrow raised, bleary-eyed and confused. “What are you doing?”

Sky swallowed the panicked lump in his throat. “The Master Sword’s missing.”

Time sat up sharply, wide awake in an instant as adrenaline shot through him. He quickly did a headcount.

Eight. One short.

Kid-sized bootprints left the camp’s edge, pressed into the fresh mud in a perfect trail.

Wind ran through the woods, following wherever the sword led him. The faster he figured out what was going on, the faster he could get back. And if he found something, that would make things better, right? He’d even let Legend keep some of the treasure, as a peace offering.

The forest, though, seemed to have no end to it, stretching high above his head, with shadows reaching out from all directions. He remembered hearing about something like this from Hyrule—the Lost Woods, which spat you out the way you came from if you made a wrong turn in them. He’d never heard of such a thing on the Great Sea, but then again, the ocean wasn’t exactly known for its vast woodland.

Finally, he reached a clearing, the sword giving a continuous ringing noise to indicate that he’d hit his dowsing mark. And, standing in the middle of it, was a weathered stone wall, overgrown with vines. He could faintly see something scrawled behind the foliage.

Narrowing his eyes, Wind channeled all the magic power he could into the Master Sword’s spin attack.

“HYAH!”

“HYAH!”

The heroes stopped in their tracks at the noise. Hyrule sheltered his candle from the rain carefully. “Was that-”

“He’s here.” Time said, quickly breaking into a jog. “Come on, we can’t lose pace now. The Lost Woods can do awful things to you if you’re not careful.”

Wind shook his head, quickly getting rid of the stars in his vision. He’d forgotten how disorienting a Hurricane Spin could be.

It had done the job well, though. The vines were nothing but chopped salad now, and the carvings behind the stone were clear as day. Six conductor’s notes stared Wild in the face, begging to be played.

The hero’s fingers tingled; this felt like the start of an adventure, one that didn’t start with a kidnapping and cannonfire.

Drawing himself up, he pulled out his baton, and began to play the magic tune.

This one was different from the first. It felt...familiar, somehow. It wasn’t something he’d ever played before, and yet...

The music carried his thoughts away from him. He found himself conducting from his heart, like when he’d played with Medli and Makar, swept up in the energy the song game off. As he ran out of notes to orchestrate, he heard an earsplitting CRACK, and his eyes flew open.

The wall had crumbled to nothingness, like the tablet had. In its wake, however, a shining blueish pedestal sat, magic spiraling outwards from its center like a spring flower.

Ping!

Wind looked at the Master Sword, tucking the Wind Waker away. He smiled fondly. “Just like old times, huh?” Giving it a playful twirl, he walked over to the pedestal, holding the sword’s hilt in both hands. “I wonder what’s going to look like this time. Are you going to get more powerful?” His eyes shone, imagining the others’ faces at bringing an even stronger Master Sword back with him. Taking a deep breath, he stabbed the blade down into its newest resting place, confident that he could handle whatever boss or dungeon this unlocked.

“LINK!!!”

His head snapped up as the rest of the Chain rushed into the clearing, eyes wide. “Hey-” He tried to talk, but no sound came out; his mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his head swam. Silver fog began to cloud his vision.

The last thing he was aware of before he felt himself fall was Time throwing his blade aside and running to catch him.

Then it all went white. The only noises he could hear were the whispers of watchers, and the chimes of tiny bells.

[hurricanes-art]

i am interested in your hades au, would you mind giving some details about it? 👁 it looks really interesting

[This AU is from these drawings!]

*cracks knuckles* Ok! I actually got enough sleep last night so I'm finally feeling up to explaining this au lmao

Also I hope that by “some details” you meant “way way too many” because I am nothing if not long winded. Also @hades-hellsite asked for context too, here you go

The central premise is that, after he dies, Achilles manages to make an arrangement with Hades that allows both him and Patroclus to stay in Elysium together. He's not employed to work at the house and he never becomes Zagreus's combat trainer.

Hades makes a few attempts to find Zagreus a different teacher among the shades of great warriors, but being skilled does not make someone able to teach. And being able to teach one way doesn't mean someone will be good for every student. When Zagreus doesn't learn well with the few mentors Hades tries, which he barely gives a chance to breathe anyway, he's quick to decide that he must have no martial ability and declares Zagreus a failure in that as he has about so many things.

This has two major effects on Zagreus before his escape attempts begin. One, without any chance to actually grow into aptitude in combat, he's left without anything substantial to put his energy into and, more importantly, he's left without anything he feels good at and that gives value to his efforts. Two is that, in Achilles' absence, very few people in the house give him any care and support untwisted by the politics of the house and the judgment of his father. There is Orpheus, kind to him before Hades locks him away for refusing to sing, Hypnos, willing to put the house to sleep so he can find the truth though jumbled up in his own problems, and Nyx.

Nyx is the only one to aid Zagreus when he decides to try to escape. She contacts Olympus and weaves careful lies to win their support and blesses his departure. She's also the only one who believes that Zagreus has the slightest chance of escaping. Already in canon, most everyone tells him there no way he'll make it out, but here, it's so much worse. He doesn't know how to fight, his initial attempts are pitiful and his progress negligible, and near everyone lashes out at him to get back in line and stop making things worse.

He doesn't even have the Infernal Arms. Achilles is the one who brings them to him in canon; here Zagreus takes a simple bronze sword from one of the house's many displays of weapons from wars long past. He thanks the Fates that the Styx restores it the same way it does his body when he dies because he nicks and dulls the edges every time.

Despite all the disadvantages, Zagreus throws himself into escaping with unshakable determination, bone deep stubbornness. He picks up his sword and will figure out how to use it himself. Experience will be his teacher. He dies over and over and he watches his enemies and learns how they move and how he must react, mimicking their attacks for his own use and adjusting and adjusting after each failure. And contrary to Hades' adamant belief, Zagreus is very intelligent and learns brilliantly when allowed to and he grows stronger and stronger.

There's no teacher more savage than experience in something like this, though. The pursuit is agonizing and the cost is enormous and adjusting to this ceaseless violence feels impossible.

Much of my interest in this idea is how the added strain on his circumstances and relationships affects Zagreus and his mental state. At his best, Zag looks a lot like he does in canon, with his laurels unfurled and vibrant, and his feet glowing hot, but he rarely feels his best here. His laurel leaves curl in dry and crisp, muted like the leaves of autumn. Flakes of ash and soot build up over his legs and encase more and more as he suffers. So deep is his feeling of failure and being trapped that it affects him physically.

Not always, though. His flames respond to his emotions, burn brighter in his passion. Enthusiasm, love, fervor, bliss, anger set him glowing.

After a brutally drawn out span of time, Zagreus meets Achilles and Patroclus in Elysium and tbh, the rest of my interest is really in how the altered circumstances change the evolution of their relationships with each other. The pair of warriors were never separated for an extended time and Achilles is less downtrodden and resigned and Patroclus is less bitter and abrasive when Zagreus stumbles upon them.

They don't fight him, which Zagreus counts among his greatest blessings, although Achilles still seems to have an interest. It makes him twitchy and he jumps when Achilles finally lifts his spear and swings it around in his third time in their little glade only to bump the flat of the blade against elbow and tell him to keep it in more towards his body. Zagreus blinks rapidly at him before adjusting his arm.

Achilles helps him here and there, tips and tricks and valuable advice, but he never gives anything near the thorough instruction he did in canon. On one hand, he doesn't need to. Zagreus is a self made fighter and it leaves him with weaknesses but it is also a powerful thing. He is unpredictable and incredibly adaptable and he only continues to improve.

On the other hand, there's no room for it. Achilles is gentle with his guidance, but Zagreus is rubbed raw by all the fighting he's done and all that still depends on it. He doesn't want to always focus on the weapon in his hands. Patroclus notices and curbs Achilles' input when it exceeds its bounds. He sits aside and observers carefully when they spar. Zagreus doesn't need another's direction which is fine by him, who's lost all desire for combat. He gives his aid through his assortment of trinkets that carry Zagreus further to the surface.

Zagreus barely knows what to do with himself in the face of their care. He's so unaccustomed to such generous and genuine support, interest devoid of expectation or blame. As familiarity between the three of them grows, their interactions grow warmer, more tender and comfortable. Their care lays on a foundation, not a hinge, and Zagreus grapples with understanding that he really can lean on it. It all leaves him so uncertain yet so desperate because he wants more than anything to have joy and conversation and company with others where he doesn't shoulder heavy guilt from unspoken accusations over his escaping the house and to have a place he feels he belongs without being an intrusion.

He does at first believe he's intruding, though. Intruding on their time together in the peace of Elysium. It takes them time to convince him that they value his presence immeasurably. The opportunity to stay together in the Underworld has been invaluable for Achilles and Patroclus, but the peace of Elysium is a deceptive thing. It wears away and prickles at them, pressing down in odd warping ways. Patroclus is beyond pleased to have the war behind him and that it can never force him to fight again, and despite Achilles retaining an interest in competition and combat, he does feel the same way. Having a cause though, something to believe in and worth devoting their efforts towards... They didn't realize how deeply they missed it until Zagreus. It is revitalizing. They thrive in his genuine, boundless kindness and long to support him.

The drawings of Orpheus arguing with Hades and Zagreus fighting with Nyx is from one of my plot point ideas. Later down the line, together, Hades, Persephone, and Nyx agree to forbid Zagreus from seeing Achilles and Patroclus at Nyx's behest. Similarly to how she talks about Dusa in canon, she sees mortal shades as beneath his station and that it's highly unbecoming for the prince to be consorting with them. Zagreus fights against the idea ferociously and is only smothered by the threat that, if he seeks them out anyway, Hades will void Achilles' agreement and have Patroclus moved to the proper plane of the Underworld.

It crushes Zagreus. He loves them and cares about them so much and being torn apart from them is a wound that cuts so deep. But even more than that, what breaks him open most, is the fact that it came from someone he cared for and trusted most. Nyx was the one person in the House he could depend on most and this betrayal at her hand is devastating. And for such a worthless reason as propriety and godly vanity. It's not her place to force those upon him. It hurts Zagreus to the core.

Orpheus is the only one willing to stick up for him in this, deeply empathetic to the grief of being separated from loved ones and well acquainted with the fact that such punishments will only damage, never correct. After all, his stint of punishment in Erebus didn't revive his desire to sing, it was Zagreus's dedication and vibrancy that did that. One of the many invaluable gifts Zagreus gave him, including reuniting him with Eurydice, making him happier than he'd been since her death. Orpheus can't keep biting his tongue when all these gods refuse to see any of this.

It all comes to a head dramatically and painfully and I've thought of a few variations on how it would play out. I'll leave it for now though, I might draw it or write it later >:3c  Also this got really long lol. Hopefully the idea is at least somewhat interesting!

And here, have the lines from these two drawings because I like the way they look

[bokettochild]

Perils of a Pumpkin Patch

Blame the lovely folks over at @ordonianhero‘s blog for this! This is on them and @mayonakaotsumami for creating this idea!

 Time sighs.

 He loved his pup, by some days, Twilight could be a real idiot.

 “Explain to me what the problem is again?” The eldest hero shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as Legend continues to cackle breathlessly, the veteran hero wheezing for breath that was only stolen with continued laughter, bent over and holding his ribs as he attempted to wheeze out words that continued to make no sense. “Deep breaths, kit.” He reminds, a small smile pulling at his face at the pure joy and mischief on the usually stoic teen’s face.

 “I’m trying!” Legend’s breath whistles between his teeth, giggles continuing to spill out for a few minutes as breath after deep breath was pulled into heaving lungs.

 “Now,” Time motions towards the vet, leaving the word hanging, it’s intent clear as Legend coughs lightly.

 The vet’s face was still flushed pink, eyes sparkling with mischief that makes him look far closer to his actual age, the teen practically bouncing on his toes. “Twilight got stuck.” Legend chuckles, smirk setting in with an almost feral hint to it. “In a pumpkin!”

 The old man blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

 “I’m not sure why I’m surprised.” He finally forces out, shaking his head again as Legend all but dances in place.

 “He needs our help.” Legend continues. “He’s in wolf form and if Wars sees he’s gonna lose it!” The vet cackled softly. “Honestly, I’m half tempted to tell him, but Twi says I owe him, and-” The vet shrugs easily. “He’s not wrong.”

 “Alright, kit.” Time isn’t dumb, he saw the pink bunny hiding in the bushes, and he knows a shifter when he sees one. Legend’s aura is full of diverse twists and turns, but there’s the dark strain of a shifter that weaves in with the other unique abilities and powers, and he’d known the instant that Legend walked back into camp weeks ago with pink hair, aura flaring and still settling down again, exactly what had happened.

 Callused hands reach over to ruffle the vet’s locks. The blue cap had been lost while they work the ranch, and it offers free access to fluffy pink hair, making the vet’s nose twitch as he darts away from the touch.  

 “Come on. We’d best get him loose.”

 Wolfie’s head is indeed trapped inside of a pumpkin.

 Time has to pause to hold back a laugh for a minute when he sees it, lifting a hand to his mouth to hide a smile that Twilight can’t see anyway from within the pumpkin prison. Harsh barks and whines echo from within the gourd as Legend saunters over, tone light and feet lighter as he moves towards the wolf, who’s paws push desperately at the orange walls around his head.

 “Twi, I got the old man. Hold still so we can get that thing off of you.” The vet giggles slightly as he speaks, and a strained whine meets the words. Time can almost see his protégé's face, unamused and nearly a pout, and the thought makes his laugh lightly as he steps over, inspecting his trapped pup.

 “Hylia, pup, you really got yourself stuck, huh?”

 “I would have expected this of the Champion.” Legend teases. “Not you ranch-hand.”

 Another strained whine sounds from the pumpkin headed wolf.

 “Alright, kiddo, we’ll get you out.” Time is already rolling up his sleeves, inspecting the pumpkin and dog combo with a calculating eye as Legend stands aside expectantly. “Kit, grab the pumpkin, I’ll get the pup, when I say pull, dig those pegasus boots-” He cuts off as his eyes dart down to see that Legend is...barefoot.

 One brow cocks, unimpressed, at the vet, who only shrugs off his stare. “They hurt my feet when I wear them too long.”

 “Get new ones?” He blinks slowly.

 “Doesn’t work.” Legend huffs, already moving in front of Twilight, hands working to find a grip on the giant orange gourd that traps Twilight’s head. “Flat feet don’t fit right in any shoe.”

 “Right.” He’ll need to talk to Four about fixing tat problem later. “Well, get a good grip on the ground and pull, I’ll hold him back.”

 “You act like he’s gonna charge me.” The vet snickers, and Wolfie’s whine joins the teen’s voice, nearly insulted.

 “Alright, on three. One. Two. Three!”

 Time’s arms lock around the giant wolf, but as Legend pulls at the lareg pumpkin the dirt underneath his skids and slips, and the vet’s feet fly out from under him, landing him firmly on his ass as Time snorts out a short bout of laughter.

 “Switch.” Legend grumbles, but doing so yields the same results, Time’s hearty pull on the pumpkin only dragging Wolfie out of Legend’s arms and sending the vet face first into the dirt.

 “New plan.” Legend groans, rubbing his sore backside as Time crouches to wipe mud off of the teen’s face.

 “I could try and cut it off, but-”

 Wolfie’s bark is desperate, and Legend frowns. “Might be our only option, pops.”

 The vet is sent to run back to the house, faster than Time and needing to loosen up his limbs again after being thrown to the ground like a discarded toy, and Time is left with his protégé, a pumpkin clad head resting in hs lap as he runs his hands through the canine’s long fur, stifling chuckles each time he glances down at the orange mess in his lap.

 “You really did it this time, eh Pup? What on earth could have prompted you to stick your head in there?”

 Twilight’s wolf form prevents him from understanding the whine that echoes from the pumpkin, and the reminded of his protégé's plight only has Time stifling laughter again, shaking lightly when Malon and Legend make their way to the garden gate, Malon with a sharp kitchen knife in hand as she weaves around the entrance, light laughter floating on the air as she watches Legend climb the gate rather than walk through, the vet darting back over with a sheepish smile as he meets Time’s eyes.  

 “Mamalon wouldn’t let me grab any weapons.”

 He wonders if Legend hears his slip, but there's no doubt Malon heard it if the way she smiles, pink tinging her cheeks as her eyes twinkle brightly while she crouches at his side.

 “Good heavens, how’d he come by this pickle?”  

 “Only Nayru knows.” Time shrugs, and Wolfie’s despairing whine only adds to the canine’s shame as Malon gently pats his shoulder.  

 “Don’t you fuss, love. We’ll get you out of there in a sec.” Green eyes dart up to meet Time’s own. “I brought a blunter one. It should cut through alright, but at the most will poke him a bit if it hits him. I haven’t sharpened it in ages, so he should be fine.”

 The eager and desperate wiggle of the wolf’s hindquarters and the thumping of his tail draws smiles to their faces, and Time nods firmly. “Give us your orders, ma’am.”

 It falls to Legend to hold the pumpkin still while Time keeps the wolf inside still, and it’s Malon who carefully slices through the orange gourd, handing off pieces to the vet, who carefully places them in a clean pail to prevent spoiling them in the dirt. When Wolfie’s head emerges, it’s covered in pumpkin guts and seeds, and the mutts nose it dripping orange as he sneezes and huffs.  

   Black swirls around them as dog transforms back to Hylian, and then the ranch hand sit there, head, shoulders and hair covered in seeds while laughter rings loud and boisterous in his ears from the family around him.

 “Right then.” Malon wipes some seed from her boy’s cheeks, laughter making her voice shake as he tries shaking off the rest of it, only succeeding in shaking gunk all over them. “Guess he’s free now.”

 “This is utterly disgusting.” Legend grins, shaking orange off of his hands and back into Twilight’s hair, prompting a very wolfie growl from the rancher, and then Twilight’s launching himself out of Time’s lap and at Legend, pinning the smaller boy to the ground and shaking orange gunk and seeds all over the loudly protesting vet.

 “I’ll run baths.” Time chuckles as he watches the two, helping Malon collect the last of the pumpkin’s flesh and the knife into her pail.

 “You do that.” A chaste kiss is pressed to his lips as green eyes wink at him. “I’ll get back to the kitchen, we might as well have pie for dinner after all this bother.”

 Her hsvand’s eyes light up, and Legend kciks at the larger boy on top of him, violet twinkling as he tries to meet their eyes. “Pie?”

 “No! Please! No more pumpkins!” Twilight pleads, shooting around to stare pleadingly at the two adults, giving Legend the perfect opportunity to break free, the vet knocking over his brother and darting behind Malon’s skirts with a cheeky grin when Twilight’s midnight eyes turn to him with a scowl.

 “You ruin a pumpkin with pay, I'm gonna make the best of the leftovers.” Malon scolds.

 “There was a keese.” Twilight protests, almost whimpers, red tinging his cheeks.

 Green, royal blue and violet stare at him, each blinking slowly as laughter breaks out again over the garden, Twilight’s protests and excuses snowballing as he tries, fruitlessly, to make the stop.

 “Right.” Malon, scoops up one of the pails of pumpkin. “Link, I trust you’ll help our pup clean up?”

 “Yes ma’am.”

 “Good.” Sharp eyes, rupee green, turn to the vet. “I hear you bake rather well; would you like to help?”

 “He’s covered in pumpkin too!” Twilight protests.

 Legend pokes his tongue out at his brother before turning an absolutely radiant smile on Malon, one that easily rival’s Warriors’ flirtatious one. “Lead the way, ma’am!”

[chaoticforever]

Ghost In Your Heart | Peter Parker x Male! Reader

Peter decided to eat the sandwich he got from Delmar's Deli & Grill at the park, since the crime rates this week have been kinda low, giving Peter some time to himself. 

He walked into the park and saw many parents sitting with their kids, adults playing frisbee with their dogs, and finally his gaze landed on someone sitting on the park bench with colored pencils and a sketchbook. 

He couldn't really make out your face from where he was standing, due to the fact that you were wearing a cap and your gaze was on your sketchbook. You looked very focused and concentrated on whatever you were drawing. 

Peter watched as you put down a blue colored pencil only to pick up a red one. 

He didn't know why he was so curious to see what you were drawing, but his interest was peaked and before he knew it, his legs started moving to where the drawing male was currently sitting. 

Displayed on the sketchbook was a drawing of Spiderman. 

To say that this person had artistic abilities would be an understatement. 

The picture was so well drawn that it looked realistic. Like it should be held in a museum. The image was Spiderman shooting a web shooter with a few other buildings in the background. This had to be one of the best art works that Peter has ever seen. 

"Don't you know it's rude to stare at random people or their artwork?" You questioned, looking up from your sketching and arching an eyebrow. 

Peter looked at you and blushed from slight embarrassment at being caught, as you waited for him to respond. 

"I'm really sorry for staring. It's just that your drawing looked so amazing and-"

A chuckle erupted from your throat,   "I'm just messing with you. It's okay to stare at my drawings. You want to see some more?" You offered, scooting over in case he wanted to sit down. 

Peter didn't really want to intrude on you having time to yourself. He did come here to eat his lunch, but he was curious to see what other drawings you had. 

He reluctantly sat down next to you on the bench, and placed his sandwich in his lap as you passed him the sketchbook. 

He flipped through various pages of the book and amazement was shown on the wall-crawler's face. 

The artistic abilities that you seemed to have was amazing. There were lots of drawings of people Peter has never seen before, so he assumed they were your family or friends. There were pictures of Mr. Stark in his Iron Man suit and some of Captain America. It's like you managed to capture who they really are in these drawings. 

"I know there not the best drawings but-"

"Are you kidding me? These drawings are amazing!" Peter commented, and a look of surprise and appreciation crossed your face. 

"Well, thank you..." You trailed off, wanting to know this male's name. 

"Oh, my name is Peter, Peter Parker." He introduced himself. 

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N. Y/N L/N." You introduced yourself, extending your hand out for a handshake. Peter shook your hand and was surprised that your hands were so cold and the tough grip you had, and you thought the same for Peter. 

You took your sketchbook back and picked up a drawing pencil, working on the drawing that you started earlier that day as Peter decided to finally eat his sandwich.

The two of you continued to speak, as Peter ate and you drawed.  

Peter glanced over to see what you were drawing next and he choked on his food, eyes widening in surprise, "You like Star Wars?" He asked, happiness welling up inside his chest. 

You gave him a slight nod of your head, "I love Star Wars. I'm secretly a nerd inside, so don't tell anyone about that." 

Multiple cop cars could be heard and seen following a black minivan, as Peter suddenly stood up, his spider senses going off like crazy. 

"I have to go now, Y/N. It was nice meeting you and I hope to see you again." 

Without waiting for a response, Peter ran off into the nearest alley. He quickly took off his clothes and put on his Spidey-Suit. He stuck his backpack somewhere where no one could find it, and used his web shooters to swing from building to building to catch the criminals in the black minivan. 

After fighting criminals, patrolling the neighborhood, and eating dinner with Aunt May, Peter flopped onto his bed and his mind drifted to thoughts of you. 

Mysterious was one word to describe you. 

He wondered why he had never seen you before. You looked to be around his age, 18/19 years old. He wondered if you went to Midtown High. He never saw you around school before, so maybe you haven't enrolled yet? 

You seem very smart and well educated that made Peter think that you went to Midtown High, but there are other schools in New York, so maybe you just went to a different school. 

He hoped that he would see you again. 

He didn't know why he wanted to see someone he has never seen before, but you intrigued him. He remembered everything about you. You're amazing lookin' H/C hair, shiny E/C eyes, and the scar you had above your eyebrow. 

Peter wondered how you got that scar. He hoped to learn more things about his new friend and would stop by the park to see you again. He hoped that you went to Midtown High. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

It has been a month since Peter met you and he couldn't have been any more happier than he was when was with you.

Peter has been stopping by the park to see you whenever he got the chance, and he loved talking to you about everything and nothing. He mostly loved being in your presence. 

Ned even noticed how happy he looked and more vibrant he became. He would tease Peter all the time that he had a boyfriend to which he denied and blushed bright red. 

Although, he did find you attractive and might have masturbated to you a couple times, it was pretty obvious that you were straight, so nothing could happen between you guys anyway even though he wanted more. 

"Do you go to Midtown High?" Peter asked the question that has been on his mind. 

You rubbed the back of your neck and ran your fingers over the small cut, "Um, I used to go to that school, but I left during my Junior year." You answered. 

"Oh, so are you homeschooled?" 

Peter figured that if you weren't in regular school, then you had to be homeschooled and that would explain why he hasn't seen you around. 

"Something like that." You laughed, bringing your gaze down to your sketchbook. 

"Do your parents know that you spend most of your time in the park?" Ned asked, having heard from Peter that you spend most of your time here. 

"Uh, they really don't care where I'm at." You replied, voice low that made Ned think that he shouldn't have asked that question. Peter hoped the question didn't offend you in any way, but it seemed that it might have. 

Luckily, you didn't seem too upset and changed the conversation. 

The conversation launched into Ned and Peter nerding out about star wars with you chiming in occasionally, as you looked through the sketches you've drawn. 

"Uh, Y/N. Do you maybe wanna help me and Ned build an enormous Death Star LEGO set?" Peter asked with a mix of nervousness and hopefulness in his voice, silently waiting and hoping that you would say yes. Ned wanted the same thing, too. 

You gave the two an apologetic look which resulted in a slight frown on Peter's face. He really wanted to spend time with you somewhere other than the park, but he figured you were busy. You most likely had other friends to hang with, after all. Or spending time with other people. 

"I can't do that because unfortunately, I've been dead since 1995." 

XXXXX XXXXX

[chicksung]

The Firsts With My Last || Park Jisung

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, best friends to lover au

Pairing: childhood best friend!jisung x reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning/s: small argument, food 

Synopsis: a collection of firsts with Park Jisung

A/N: Aaaaaahhhhh!!! it’s finally here! I cannot express how happy and excited I am for this! I worked so so so hard on this and I hope that you enjoy it! Feedback is welcome! Thank you to the lovely Elle @joh--pping for making the header! 

Networks: @nctnetwrite​ @nct-writers​ @kpopscape​ @neoturtles​ @neoswitchnet​

Taglist: @moonbeamsung @lebrookestore @jaeminpeachy @joh--pping @kyuwoyo @nksideblog @ncvltrtchnlgy @vera-liscious @ncteaxhoe @neojaems @ethaeriyeol

First meeting

First grade, a time where your biggest worry was if you would be home in time to watch your favourite cartoon. That was also the age you met Park Jisung. Your teacher had handed out a simple colouring-in to keep the students entertained for the few minutes before the lunch bell rang. You had been peacefully drawing when one of your classmates, Chenle, had tried to grab the blue coloured pencil that was in your grasp. It was part of a pencil set your grandmother had given to you and you held it very dear to your heart, so the fact that one of troublemakers was trying to take it from you, made you severally upset. Despite the discouragements from his friends to leave you alone, you and Chenle continued your intense game of tug-o-war on the pencil until you heard a heart stopping snap. The pencil splintered down the middle, unable to take the pressure anymore. You could only eyeball it in shock, reality finally settling in that Chenle had broken your favourite pencil. The bell rang and you stared at Chenle, scooping up the two halves of the broken pencil into your chubby hands. You were the first one out of the classroom, tears streaming down your face as you grabbed your lunchbox and disappeared into the playground.

You hid behind a tree, attempting to summon your much needed magical abilities to somehow stick the two halves back together. No matter how hard you pressed them into each other, they wouldn’t bond together with an invisible force. At this realisation, you began to sob again, hiding your face into your knees, quiet wails escaping your lips. You continued to cry until you saw a pair of red and blue shoes come into your tear blurred vision from beneath your legs. You looked up and were met with a chubby cheeked child, a child you recognised as one of your classmates and one of Chenle’s friends who had tried to convince him to stop roughhousing with you.

“I’m sorry about your pencil. Chenle can be a bit of a butthead,” The boy gave you an awkward smile before shifting the wood chips and dirt around with the toe of his shoe. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked politely, his eyes big and friendly. As much as you wanted to be alone and definitely did not want to be accompanied by someone who was on friendly terms with the culprit of the state your pencil was in, you couldn't find it in your heart to say no to his friendly gesture. You nodded sadly and he immediately occupied the space next to you. He looked at the broken pieces in your hand and a smile crept to his face. 

“There is one good thing about your broken pencil,” He stated, making you snap your head towards him.

“What is there good about this? My favourite pencil is broken because of your dumb friend,” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were so overcome with emotions and anger for what had happened, it slipped out. The boy looked at you, a little shocked at the fact you had called his friend dumb, but at the same time, he had called him dumb on multiple occasions. 

“Think about it! If you sharpen this side of this one,” He pointed to the more splintered of the two pieces, “you could have two blue pencils,” He said with such innocence and optimism that it was infectious. You looked at the half and smiled. You had never thought about it like that. You were too caught up in the fact that it was broken to focus on anything else. 

“You’re right!” You squeaked, a small laugh erupting from you. You turned to the boy once again, an unanswered question lingering in your mind.

“What’s your name?”

The boy smiled again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. “Park Jisung. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.”

First Realisation of Feelings

The 7th grade school dance, where the room is cramped and hot, full of hormonal preteens to early teenagers. Not exactly the place Jisung expected to see you. You had often expressed your dislike for the majority of the grade and you never liked being in overcrowded places, the perfect word to describe the gymnasium that was decorated for the occasion. Yet here you were, standing in the corner, hands behind your back, looking down at your shoes and playing with the hem of your dress. Jisung quickly ditched the conversation he was having with Sungchan and Chenle and made a b-line towards you. You were glad he saw you. You didn’t want to be here, only here by force from both your friends and your parents, your parents saying that you should socialise more outside of school hours and your friends saying it would be fun. However, your friends had made a b-line to the boys they liked from the grade, leaving you to stand there awkwardly until you could no longer stand watching your friend drooling over quite arguably the biggest jerk in the grade. As for your parents’ word, the only thing you could think to tell them is ‘why socialise when I’m most comfortable around the clumsiest boy in the class?’

“Hi,” Jisung said, the same awkward smile on his lips.

“Hi,” You replied. You didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jisung wasn’t exactly here on his own terms, most likely only here for Chenle (who you had since reconciled with after the incident in first grade) 

“You told me you weren’t coming,” He pointed out, trying to get rid of the slight awkwardness in the air. Why was it so awkward? It wasn’t normally like this.

“I wasn’t until I was made to by my friends and my parents,” You explained, shooting a glance to your friends, who were practically at each of their respective male attention giver’s beck and call. Why were they your friends again? “Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” You brought attention to the sudden rise in the temperature, fanning your neck as you looked around for a possible air source, more so, a possible way out. Jisung nodded. He didn’t feel hot, but the gymnasium was cramped, and there were a lot of warm bodies inside of it, so he didn’t blame you. 

“Yeah, let’s go outside. The breeze is really nice out there.” 

After checking that the coast was clear of any members of faculty that might force you and Jisung to go back inside the gym, you ran to the gardens, a place that was quite pretty. Right next to the school flowed a river, which connected to the parent pick up area, accessible by bridge. You and Jisung stood side by side, watching your reflections ripple with the current of the water. The moonlight danced prettily with the water, creating a type of reflection that Jisung had only ever seen in movies. The cool summer breeze brushed against his skin, diminishing the sweat on his forehead. 

Then he looked at you. 

Your hair was lifted off your shoulders by the wind, the moon casting a silvery shadow across your face, fitting neatly across your facial features like a glove, but his breaking point was when you looked at him. It was as if someone had taken all of the stars in the galaxy and placed them one by one in your eyes. You looked so...beautiful. His heart rate increased dramatically and he was sure there was an intense blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears. Did he always feel like this when he saw you? Surely not. His heart had never raced like this before, and he definitely had never felt so speechless. What could this all mean? Could he...like you? “Hello? Earth to Park Jisung?” Your voice cleared the clouds of doubt from his mind as he finally closed his gaping mouth. “Are you okay? Do I need to tell a teacher?” You asked, a slight furrow in your brow appearing out of concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.” He looked away in embarrassment, his eyes drifting over his reflection. Oh God, he was blushing. “The view was pretty and I guess started daydreaming.” 

“Were you daydreaming about someone?” You asked simply, before a smile broke across your face. “Were you daydreaming about me?” Jisung almost choked on his spit at your words.

“Was not!” Your laughter only picked up in volume, Jisung having to shush you and remind you that you were not supposed to leave the gym. 

“I’m only teasing you, I know you wouldn’t daydream about people. You just like to think about video games and food.”

“Hey, I do not! What’s with the Jisung slander?” You laughed. Something about your laugh was addicting, like a song he had just discovered and was unable to stop the lyrics from playing in your head. 

It’s been three weeks since the dance and you and Jisung were in the library, studying. Well, if you were to classify copying your science homework as homework because he had completely forgotten about it. You were currently working on your analysis for your Literature class, reading over the assessment outline to make sure you could get the best grade possible. You looked over and Jisung and he looked so relaxed. His round glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning your answers before jotting them down onto his own page, his fingers wrapped firmly around his pen, and his lips pushed into a little pout as he concentrated. He looked so laid back, so relaxed despite the fact he had nearly had a heart attack when you told him that the homework was due by your next class, which didn’t give him enough time to do it at home. With your thoughts swimming through your head and so far into your daydream, you hadn’t noticed that his head had picked up and you were now staring (quite awkwardly) at each other.

“Is there something on my face?” Jisung asked, trying desperately to break the awkwardness between you two. You shook your head rapidly, assuring him that his appearance was fine and you had just spaced out. Well, you hadn’t completely lied. His appearance did look fine, and you had spaced out, you had just decided to leave out the reasoning as to why you had spaced out. 

Your cheeks burned harshly, like you were sitting in direct sunlight at the beach without any sunscreen. Is this what a developing crush felt like? Surely not. There’s no way you could have a crush on your best friend. That was weird, according to your friends, but then again, these were the same friends that said that you and Jisung were perfect for each other, so you don’t think they are a very credible source. 

Was this how crushes develop? Yes. Yes it was 

First Confession

Sophomore year of high school. People are calming down from exam week, finally getting the recommended hours of sleep after the countless number of all nighters that were pulled to cram, drinking water instead of the copious amounts of caffeine. The autumn air was starting to set in and the leaves were starting to fall, catching the wind and creating a train for oranges and browns. You and Jisung were walking home from school, your head pounding after the amount of brain power wasted on several test packages that weighed too heavily on your overall grade in your opinion. 

“How about we go get ice cream and go to the park? My treat to the both of us working so hard?” You suggested, turning to the equally emotionally drained best friend beside you. At the mention of a delicious sweet treat, his head perked up and he nodded.

“Yes! Anything to stop my head from hurting,” His lips formed the most relieved smile, your pulse increasing at the sight. In an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you watched the leaves, long fallen from the huge oak trees that towered over you, crunch underneath your feet, a little bit of stress releasing each time you stepped in them. Jisung seemed to pick up on this, his smile taking on a playfully mischievous role. He raced ahead of you and jumped, his feet landing firmly in a pile of leaves. The dead leaves flew up around him, creating a skirt of sorts around his waist. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a stupidly large smile shared between the two of you. 

“Come on, let’s get this ice cream before the store closes. We’ll never get there if you keep acting like you’ve never seen leaves before,” You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path, your back now facing Jisung. He jogged to your side, bumping your hip with his when he did.

“You don’t know that.”

“We have literally been friends since we were 5, I think I would know,” Jisung cursed inwardly after taking a second to process what you had said. 

“T-That’s not fair and I- hey! Hey! Wait up!” 

Walking down a simple path in the park, the bumpy texture of the wafer cone in your hand, and the occasional playful cheers of children and dog passing by was simply relaxing. The simplicity of the noises of everyday life, the perfect natural remedy for an exam induced headache. 

You and Jisung came across a beautiful area that overlooked the huge lake in the middle of the park, a popular skating attraction during the winter. There were a few ducks waddling around the water’s edge, a few gliding gracefully along the water and few attempting to ruin a couple’s picnic by stealing their sandwiches. As you sat down on the ground, the crisp breeze whipped lightly across your face, you were relaxed, almost completely forgetting about the exams you had taken only hours earlier. 

Jisung was staring at you, he was sure of it. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the elderly couple sitting metres away from the both of you would see it. He followed your gaze when your eyes fell on the most adorable mother duck, being followed by her clumsy ducklings. You liked the one at the back the most, always the most clumsy. You turned to Jisung, a teasing smirk dripping from your lips.

“You see the one at the end?” You pointed to the duckling, whose little webbed foot had caught on a twig, sending it rolling onto its side. Jisung nodded. “That would be you as a duck. The overly clumsy baby of the family,” Jisung’s eyes widened in slight offense at your comment.

“What do you mean? I’m not clumsy!” He tried to defend himself, only gaining a snort from you.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” You said sarcastically, looking back towards the ducks. Between the time you had turned away to tease Jisung and right now, another duck had come back in search of it’s sibling. The duckling looked curiously at the fallen duck, before turning its head and let out high pitched quacks to its mother and signalling her to come back. Jisung watched as the mother duck picked the duckling up by the scruff of the neck and put it back on its feet. 

“And if you were a duck, that would be you. Always looking out for the clumsy one,” He commented, watching the family waddle off to a different area of the park. Taking another spoonful of his ice cream (you refused to let him get a cone. With how accident-prone he was, there was only fate for that poor ice cream cone, and it involved Jisung dropping ice cream down his crisp white shirt) before sighing. 

“Ducks are cute like you too,” He thought out loud, forgetting that the you in question was sitting right next to him. 

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“I-I said ducks are cute, and then I stopped talking!” Real smooth, Park. 

“Right…” You said, knowing damn well that isn’t what he said, but you didn’t wish to press further. “My legs are asleep, let’s walk a little more.” You suggested, almost leaping from your spot on the ground. Jisung scrambled to stand up too, his ice cream almost slipping through his fingers. 

You walked for what felt like miles, talking about everything under the sun. You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you were facing the street, with the name of your street written in printed letters on the sign. 

“Guess my legs knew it was getting late before I did. I should probably get home before my mom yells at me. See you at school tomorrow, right?” Before you could walk away, you felt a hand on your wrist. Jisung’s hand. 

“Wait, I need to tell you something,” Jisung’s voice sounded desperate, like if he didn;t say this now, it would kill him. 

“What? Did you leave your jacket at the park again?” You tried to joke, but Jisung’s eyes just pleaded with you.

“Please just listen,” Jisung said, his tone coming out a lot sterner than he had meant to. He exhaled deeply before placing both of his hands in yours, his head swimming with thoughts. 

“I like you.” His eyes, his tone, the slight smile on his lips. They all were dripping with sincerity. 

“What-” 

“I like you. I don’t expect you to accept my feelings but I just really needed to get this off my chest because I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while and-”

“I like you too,” You interjected with a smile, squeezing Jisung’s hand.

“Y-You do?” He repeated your words in his head like a broken record, watching as you gave him a confident nod. 

“Yes. Now, can I go home now?” Jisung flustered himself and nodded, letting go of your hand and waving as you disappeared down your street. His cheeks were glowing red, surely resembling a firefly. You liked him too? He felt like a giddy schoolboy, a smile plastered on his face. This was quite possibly the best day of his life.

First Date

“No, no. Absolutely not, I refuse,” Jisung screeched as you swung into an empty parking space in the car park of the ice skating rink. You giggled evilly to yourself. 

“You said I get to pick the location of our date, and I choose the ice rink,” You reminded him smugly, giving him a sickly sweet smile. You sunk down in his seat, grumbling unheard profanities as he knew you were right. He had given you the power to choose where you two would have a date together, a power he was now regretting giving you. 

“Lighten up, will you? One ice skating session isn’t going to kill you,” You rolled your eyes, making your way towards the entrance to the building. 

“I seriously doubt it,” He grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

There weren’t many others on the rink, some small children with their parents, the odd couple or two, but it was quiet. Well, quiet customer wise.

“Don’t let go of me! I’m too young to die!” Jisung squeaked, your arm wrapped in a death grip from the boy.

“Jisung, you’re not gonna die, not on my watch,” You assured him, helping him up as his knees shook like a newborn giraffe. You were able to shake the grip he had on your arm and hold both of his hands before skating backwards very slowly. “You trust me, right?” “More than anything,” He affirmed. You smiled and tugged him along, giving him perfect momentum to stay on his two feet. You swung yourself around so you were now skating besides him, intertwining your fingers together like puzzle pieces. Gliding together, you felt like you were skating in the middle of a snowy escape, a winter wonderland. You felt as if you were skating with the Snow Kingdom’s prince (except if the Snow Prince didn’t know how to skate) and the snow was falling gently around you delicately. 

This fantasy ended when your hand was jerked backwards. Your skates hit an oddly slipping part of the ice, causing you to slip over and fall promptly on the ground, finding yourself face to face with the culprit, your clumsy boyfriend. 

“Heh, sorry,” He apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any kind of unamused emotion towards the boy, only bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re too darn cute,” you admitted, knees knocking as you got back onto your feet. You extended your hand, offering it to Jisung as assistance to get him back on his feet. 

“Do you wanna try again?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you still hesitated, afraid of him saying no.

“What are my chances of getting a concussion?” The boy joked, a bright and gummy smile breaking across his face. You stifled a laugh.

“Pretty high when you assess the situation,” You answered in an amused tone. Jisung suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. His slender fingers were freezing cold against the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to mind all that much. You could see him having an inner battle with himself before grinning in victory. He leaned closer to you, placing a peck to the numbed tip of your nose. Your heart fluttered like it had been caught up in a whirlwind of butterfly wings, delicately carrying them to a higher level than before. You swore you were giving Jisung really obvious heart eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, the exchange must’ve been mutual. 

Jisung finally pulled himself together, slow realisation sinking in of what he had just done. “S-Sorry,” he apologised softly, his fingers slipping away from your cheek. You caught it, bringing it down to the height of your shoulder and intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Don’t be,” you said cooly, cautiously skating towards the exit to the rink. “I’m starving. Let’s go find lunch. You can pick this time,” you smiled cheerily at him. He snuck a glance to you as he untied the laces of his ice skates. There was something about your smile that was so enchanting, sort of subtle, and perfect, and real. He couldn’t help but wonder if you even knew how wonderful your smile could make someone feel. Especially a someone like Jisung, someone who would find elegance and serenity in the tiniest things you do. He cursed his heart for fluttering stupidly fast, not that it heeded his thoughts, only beating harder the more he stared at you.

“Let’s go,” You announced, extending your hand to him. He grabbed it without a second thought. This felt like home to him, with someone who meant the world to him.

First Kiss

“Jisung, this is crazy! My parents will find out about this!” You whisper-yelled at Jisung, reluctantly throwing on your coat and shoes. Jisung smiled like a fool, feeling like a modern day Romeo as he waited on your front porch. You threw the front door open, seeing your boyfriend, absolutely drenched from head to toe with rain. The rain had been falling heavily for half an hour, so you couldn’t help but wonder what inside his mind decided that he would walk to your neighbourhood in the pouring rain just to see you?

“Jisung, it’s two in the morning. Why are you here?” You interrogated once you shut the door.

“I wanted to see you. Is that such a crime?” He countered, a sly smile resting on his pretty lips. You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Jisung took a few paces back, extending his long fingers to you.

“Huh?” You vocalised your confusion.

“Come dance with me,” He said, waiting patiently. You hesitated for a moment. You feared the fact that your parents would definitely ground you if they found out that you were escapading at ridiculous hours of the night just to be with a boy, but on the other hand, this was Jisung you were talking about. The night, or morning if you were to be technical, wasn’t getting any younger and nor were you. In that moment, you didn’t care if your parents found out about your late night adventures. You grabbed Jisung’s hand and smiled.

“Show me to the dance floor,” You announced confidently.

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. Running and shoving each other in the rain, willingly. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only light to remind that the world was still there were the dim streetlights, illuminating only within its reach before fading back into darkness.

You danced under the streetlamp, your very own spotlight. You risked the chances of a cold, for the feeling of freedom, to be two dumb kids, fooling around at forsaken hours of the night. You had a smile to your ears and your laughter rang out loudly throughout the slumbering neighbourhood. You squealed when he pulled you closer to him by your hips. Your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, eyes focusing on him, the water droplets that fell from his soaking wet hair and the goofy smile on his lips.

The laughter that the two of you died down, both of you completely infatuated by the other. How pretty they looked with raindrops kissing their skin, how their eyes sparkled when the light hit them at this angle. Jisung bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. What if he was reading the signs wrong? What if you didn’t want to? He cautiously leaned forward, and you followed suit. Your lips met briefly before Jisung pulled away, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or disgust. Instead, he was met with your eyes sparkling brightly, a huge smile breaking across your face. 

“You kissed me,” You said, slightly astonished at Jisung’s bravery.

“Yeah, I did,” He mumbled, trying to come to terms with the event that just played out in front of him.

“Do it again,” You egged.

“Excuse me?” His eyes blew wide at your comment.

“Kiss me again.”

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only two people in your world. 

First Time Falling in Love

The stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above, like silver glitter that had been thrown into the depths of space. You admired the stars, wishing you could fly up there for a second just to dance among them. It was your calming activity before bed, talking to the stars about your day, especially if it wasn’t particularly a good day. The best part about today however, was that you weren’t gazing up into space in your bedroom, instead lying in the grass with the cool breeze on top of a hill that overlooked the city lights, and you weren’t gazing up into space alone, instead in company of your boyfriend, Jisung.

The two of you had spent the last hour and a half stargazing, talking about everything and anything, the big things like school systems, and the little things like the ladybird that had crawled it’s way up a blade of grass before taking flight above you. You were sleepy and ready to go home. You and Jisung were standing, facing each other, giving the sky one more quick glance before you left. When your vision came back down, you met Jisung’s eyes. They were pretty, a dark chocolate brown, the type of brown that when light hits them at just the right angle, they turn into pools of honey. They were entrancing, glittering, beautiful. It seems like he was just as entranced by your gaze as you were his, as the both of you stood in silence. Finally, Jisung mustered up enough courage like the day he asked you out, and cupped your face. His hands pressed flush against your cheeks, feeling the warmth from your blush underneath them. His lips parted and closed again, like he was trying to tell you something but was second guessing himself.

“I think,” Jisung started, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” You laughed softly, your eyes flickering from his eyes down to his lips, so full and kissable. Without a second to think, he pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss full of sweetness and amateur love, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you broke away and smiled. “Shall we go home now?” You asked with lovestruck eyes. He noticed. He smiled.

“Yes, we better,”

You were maybe just a little bit in love with Park Jisung.

First Argument

You can only recount one argument with Jisung. 

You sat there at the cafe, looking around nervously for him. The constant checks of your phone and the cafe door every time the bell rang to signify a new customer, you silently hoped it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do this to you. You refused to believe it. There was no way, right? There was no way Park Jisung had forgotten your date, right?

Wrong.

“Jeno, has anyone ever told you, you suck at MarioKart?” Chenle asked teasingly, pillow colliding with his head, which caused Toad to fly off the edge of the course. Jisung laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes as he drove Yoshi to victory. Amongst the commotion going on inside, the doorbell rang. Renjun, who was not participating in his friends’ antics, decided to answer it. Upon seeing you, he was a bit shocked to see you there. You barely showed up there, so to see you standing outside the door, with your coat folded between your arms and a displeased look on your face, took him by surprise.

“Jisung, it’s for you,” Renjun called into the door, abandoning you at the threshold to take over Jisung’s controller. 

When your boyfriend saw you, he smiled with a twinkle of confusion in his eye.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We were just playing MarioKart if you-”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You interrupted bitterly, boring holes in his soul from your gaze alone. Jisung looked at you for a second, trying to comprehend the words that had left your lips moments ago. 

“Is it your birthday?” Jisung asked stupidly. Anger flashed in your eyes before you grabbed him by the shoulder of his t-shirt and tugged him out of the dorm. With the door now acting as a barrier between the argument and the fun his friends were having, you could now speak freely.

“3pm, Culture Cafe. Does this mean anything to you?” You interrogated, your tone bitter and upset, a lethal combination. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, wracking his brains to try and make connections between the two. 

“Our date, Jisung! Our fucking date!” You yelled at him, growing bored of watching him try and remember. “We planned this three days ago, how can you not remember?” Your voice softened in disbelief. “It was just this one thing, but instead I come here and find you playing video games with your friends.” The more you spoke, the more tears blurred your vision. 

Jisung swore he heard his heart break when he saw a fat tear roll down your cheek. He had caused those tears, over just how forgetful he really is.

“If there was a more sincere way of saying sorry, I would say it. I can’t think of the words to-” Jisung was cut off by your sobs. He immediately panicked, grasping your shoulders, feeling like a kicked puppy. “No, no, no, baby don’t cry. I promise I’ll-”

“I can’t be here any longer. Just give me a few days,” you used those words as your salutations of farewell, turning on your heel and walking away from him. You silently screamed at yourself for getting so upset over a stupid date, but this wasn’t like Jisung. He was so adamant about not forgetting the important things, so why would he forget this? 

It had been five days since the confrontation with Jisung, and you had not spoken to him since. You left him on read with every text message, and deleted every voicemail he left you. You acknowledged you may be acting a bit brashly, but you wanted him to feel the same forgotten feeling that sat in the bottom of your stomach when he left alone at that cafe. 

You wanted Jisung to apologise. You just didn’t expect him to apologise the way he did.

Your doorbell rang repetitively, clearly trying to divide your attention from your comfort show. You reluctantly stood up from your comfy spot on the couch, and walked towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw a boy with dark dishevelled hair with a cake in hand. The cake was messily decorated and seemed a bit squashed, but you could still tell it was supposed to be a heart shape. 

“Is this your way of apologising?” You asked him monotonously, your eyes still on the cake. Jisung nodded. His eyes seemed puffy.

“I don’t mean to ruin the apology, but why does the cake look a bit…”

“Squished?” Jisung finished, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Chenle, the stupid ass, sat on the box before I left. All my hard work, now flattened,” He gave a half hearted chuckle before silencing himself.

“Look, I am really, really sorry. I was stressing, and the boys thought it would be a good idea if I spent time out of my room and play some games with them to stop moping around, and I didn’t realise how fast the time went and I forgot about our date and then I felt horrible and I-” He rambled on, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stopped when he heard you giggle, a soft, almost whimsical sound. You took the cake box from him and smiled. 

“You put all of this work in, just for an apology?” You asked, a soft smile subconsciously creeping across your face. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I got desperate,” Jisung admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck at your reaction. You stepped forward to kiss his cheek, his skin warm against your lips. 

“So, am I forgiven?” He asked nervously, feeling cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck. 

“Depends. Are you gonna share this cake with me?” You countered, stepping aside to invite him in. 

“Who did you bribe to allow you in the kitchen by yourself?”

“Hey!”

First Dance

“Hurry up, we’re going to miss the sunset,” Jisung tugged you up the hill, sunlight casting over his face the higher he hiked up the mountain. You let out a tired laugh as you allowed him to drag you up the mountain. Once you reached the top, you finally understood why he wanted to show you this place. The view was spectacular. The sunset gave the landscape an orange hue to it, even the ocean sparkled like magnificent glitter. The orange specks glowed like millions of fireflies, creating a picture perfect landscape, one that belonged within the walls of a world famous museum. 

“This is stunning,” You sighed in awe, the dusk lighting flicking its rays into your irises. Jisung nodded firmly, pride bubbling in his chest at knowing he picked the perfect place.

“Baby?” He asked, hiding his shyness as best he could.

“Yeah?” You answered, eyes breaking away from the beautiful atmosphere to him. He held his hand out, suggesting something.

“Dance with me?” He asked politely, a pink tint colouring the tips of his ears. You giggled lightly.

“Dancing is meaningless without music,” You informed, warm breeze whipping past the exposed parts of your skin. Jisung whipped out his phone, briefly tapped on the screen and waited before a soft and calming song played from the speakers. He slipped it into his back pocket, quickly taking your left hand in his right, his left hand coming down to rest on your waist and steadily rocking you to the melody. Your head rested against his chest, inhaling his warm scent. He smelt of fresh cotton sheets and something else that can only be described as the sweetest fruit of the summer. 

The moment felt like a scene out of a fairytale, a nonsensical world that only manifested in the creative young minds of children, however the way the gentle breeze kissed your cheek and ruffled your hair, the last of the sun’s rays pressed a warm glow to your skin, it felt too real to be make believe. 

Jisung twirled you around on the spot, a giggle escaping your lips as you fell gracefully against his chest. As you spun around to face him again, the look in his eyes could only be truly explained with one word; ‘Lovestruck’, like his whole world revolved around you. You were his moon, his stars, his world. You might as well have been his whole solar system, dammit. He pressed a soft chaste kiss your lips, pulling away and leaving only centimeters between the both of you.

“I love you,” Jisung’s face lit up like the fireflies that played in the valley beneath you. You cracked a giddy smile, lacing your fingers with him.

“I love you too,” You requited, realising that the song you were originally dancing to had faded out some time ago, only dancing along to the beat of each other’s heart. He laughed at this discovery, holding you closer and hearing the faint drum of your thumping heart. He hummed to himself as thoughts of you swam through his head, but only one stuck out to him. It was less of a thought and more like an idea, a wish, a dream, a promise.

You are my first love, and I intend for you to be my last

[crystalessenceswrites]

Hi Again! I was wondering if you wrote for the clones? (I'm thirsting for Wolffe!!) If not, that's ok! And if so, I thought maybe something fluffy and a bit hot with Wolffe? I'm a huge sucker for the trope- Reader tries to hide that she hasn't been feeling well and turns out she's pregnant? With twins! She's scared because even though they're committed, it wasn't planned? And then fluff and some love making?? <3333

Hi lovely, welcome back! I am open to writing for the clones, I just haven’t done so yet! I too thirst for Commander Wolffe so you’re in luck! This trope is def very cute, the end turned out more fluffy than spicy, I hope that's alright.

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader Rating: E (18+) Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v sex, unplanned pregnancy, swearing (first time writing for Wolffe, may be slightly ooc)

[PART TWO]

There was never enough time. You really should not have been surprised by the revelation, you were at war, but it still sat heavy on your chest. Always needed elsewhere as soon as you completed a mission. Never time to rest, even in transit. Someone always needed your attention for reports, strategic planning or council meetings as the GAR cruiser hurtled through hyperspace. It never left you enough time for him. Thankfully, the stubborn nature of your clone commander allowed him to make time, even if just a spare moment, for the two of you.

“Oh fuck,” you throw your head back against the door as he reaches that spot deep inside you. Pushing you ever closer to the edge. “Wolffe, please-” you’re whining as he grinds up into you, throbbing inside you. He’s always had the uncanny ability to read your body, he knows better than you when you’re close to bliss and he enjoys drawing it out. To think Commander Wolffe was a fucking tease.

“Please what, cyare?” His smug grin slides across your chest following the trail of marks he’s littered across your skin where no one will see. “What does ner jetii need?”

“Please, ‘m so close,” you tighten your legs around his waist, trying to draw him in closer, anything to reach your release, “please, Wolffe!”

He groans into your neck as you tug at the curls fallen loose at the nape of his neck, “well when you ask so nicely, cyare.”

His sudden thrust up pushes the air from your lungs. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he pounds into you, all teasing forgotten. He’s relentless as you tighten around him, the coil in your belly threatening to snap.

“That’s it,” he grunts, “come on my cock ner jetii.”

His words and his gloved thumb brushing over your bundle of nerves has you falling apart around him. White hot pleasure rolls over you, leaving you a limp, moaning mess in Wolffe’s arms.

“That’s it, mesh’la. Squeezing me so kriffing tight,” he groans, hips stuttering, his own release fast approaching. “Fuck.” Wolffe manages a few more thrusts before he buries himself in you, spilling himself inside you. Whispered praises fall from his lips as he comes down from his own high. His lips ghost over yours in a chaste kiss as he withdraws, tucking himself away before he lets you down.

Your legs cry out in relief when they meet solid ground, not longer clinging to Wolffe for support.

“Good, cyare?” his hand sweeps over your brow, so tender for a man with such a fierce reputation, even amongst his brothers.

“Mhmm,” leaning into his touch, he chuckles at your blissed out expression.

“Someone’s bound to come looking for you soon, General. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You don’t protest as he helps you redress, though you do moan about how unfair it was he just had to remove his codpiece and you had to strip completely out of your robes for these little storage closet rendezvous’.

“I don’t think jedi robes were designed to allow for easy access, cyare.”

You pout, “you’re probably right.” There was that whole bit about no attachments you were blatantly ignoring after all.

Before the commander can come back with another sharp retort your commlink blinks to life. “Yes?”

“General, General Plo is looking for you on the bridge.”

You sigh, “thank you, Sinker. I’ll be right there.”

Never enough time.

.

The next couple of months continue much the same. You and Wolffe sneaking away between missions when you can, trying to find solace in each other despite all the horrors you both see on the battlefield. In a war that seems to stretch on forever he is your rock. As he watches his brothers fall, one after the other, you are his comfort. It breaks your heart to be apart from him but there is little you can do to control it. When the council requests you to join Obi-wan and Anakin for a series of missions you cannot object. Instead, you drag your tired self out to the far reaches of the outer rim to help them as best you can.

“You look exhausted, my dear.” Such tact this one possessed.

You roll your eyes, “you don’t look much better, Kenobi.” Though you doubt he has been waking in the middle of the night to empty the contents of his stomach like you have for the past week.

“This war does seem to be pushing us all to our limits.”

“I’ll race you!” Ahsoka sprints by, apparently headed for some target or another with her master hot on her heels.

“Snips!”

Cody chuckles under his bucket, shaking his head as the two disappear into the distance.

Obi-Wan scrubs a hand over his face, “it’s pushed most of us to our limits.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have the energy of a padawan again,” you groan.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Obi-wan nods, “we should all try to get some rest while we can. We need to break camp near dawn.”

You agree and bid your fellow jedi an early goodnight. With the headache you could feel coming on, sleep sounded like a good idea. As you go to stand the world spins around you, any sense of balance you had gone. You reach for the crate you had been sitting on to try and stay upright but you miss by a mile. Knees giving out you collapse to the floor, the world around you still spinning. You can barely hear Cody shouting over the ringing in your ears.

“Call for a medic! The General’s collapsed!”

.

By the time you regain consciousness you’re no longer planet side. Obi-wan had been quick to have you medevacked to the closest med-station for testing. The unholy white lights of the station burn your eyes when you finally come to. Your sudden groaning draws Kix back to your bedside.

“General. Good to see you’re back with us.”

“Kix?” You try to focus on the 501st medic instead of the bright lights, “what happened?”

“You collapsed back at the forward camp. We weren’t able to determine what was wrong with the limited medical supplies we had on hand, so General Kenobi called an air lift for you.”

Another groan bubbles up, Obi-wan had been forced to waster precious resources on you. “Were you able to find out what’s wrong?”

The clone’s face falls, “yes.”

You’ve never heard the medic sound so meek before. “Kix?”

“I’m not sure what’s the best way to explain this, General… but you’re pregnant.”

Oh.

Oh.

“H-how far along?”

“Looks like just over two months,” Kix shifts from foot to foot, pointedly not looking you in the eye. You can’t blame him for being uncomfortable, this isn’t quite the medicine he’d been expecting to practice. He was a combat medic not an obgyn. “We were able to get an ultrasound, would you like to see?”

Nodding, you sit up, your head now spinning for completely different reasons. Kix brings you a datapad displaying the grainy black and white image.

“Kix… am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, general.”

“There’s two…”

“Yes general. You’re having twins.”

Oh fuck.

.

Kix is a godsend, having worked with Anakin and Rex long enough to know reporting everything may not always be a good idea. The official report on your sudden collapse reads that you suffered from a foreign infection your body had not been prepared to fight, coupled with the battle fatigue, your body had shut down in order to force you to rest. Obi-wan and the council believe it, ordering you back to Coruscant to recover and rest. You knew you would have to tell them; it would not be long until you were showing, but you would much rather deal with the council in person than from your medbay bed.

Before your escort arrives, Kix slips you a disk with a copy of the ultrasound pictures, “in case there’s someone you want to show them to.”

“Thank you, Kix,” he blushes when you give him a quick peck on the cheek, “you’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know.”

You do your best to rest on your trip back to Coruscant but its incredibly difficult when your mind is going a parsec a minute. Besides the council there’s one other person you have to break the news to. While you two had talked about what life would be like for the two of you after the war, this was not something you had discussed. You were not sure if Wolffe wanted kids ever, let alone now. Having twins while the whole galaxy was at war was not ideal. Not when the two of you were expected to put your lives on the line for the Republic.

Panic washes over you when you arrive at the capital to find the wolfpack waiting for you on the tarmac. They’d just arrived back for some long overdue shore leave and Plo had informed them of your sudden illness. Normally you would be touched by how much they cared for you, but now all you can think about is how you are not ready to face Wolffe. Not yet.

You can feel his gaze heavy on your back as you field Sinker and Boost’s barrage of questions.

“I’ll be alright, I just need to take my medicine and get some rest. It shouldn’t be long before I’m right as rain again.” You hate lying to them, but you did not want them worrying unnecessarily either.

It seems to appease them; the pack wishes you well and invites you out to 79’s with them as soon as you’re recovered. Wolffe hangs back, watching his brothers go.

“I’ll walk you back, general.”

“No.” It comes out much harsher than you’d like. The surprise that washes over his face feels like a stab to your gut. “There’s no need, Commander. I’ll be alright.”

His voice drops, brow furrowed together, “cyare?”

“Not now, Wolffe,” you frown, “I just need to go lay down. We’ll talk later.”

But you don’t. You cannot find it in yourself to answer any of his calls or messages over the next few days. Instead, you wrap yourself up in as many blankets as possible and hole up in your quarters while you try to figure out what to do. You watch Coruscant go by from your window. It’s only when Sinker and Boost call that you’re freed from running around in circle inside your head.

“Boost? Sinker? What’s going on?”

“Oh thank goodness you’re alive, General!”

“Boost what are you going on about?”

“The Commanders been going crazy! He hasn’t heard from you in over a week and we don’t think he knows how to handle it!”

Although you and Wolffe did your best to keep your relationship hidden, in such tight quarters it was hard to keep it from Wolffe’s brothers. You’d never outright admitted it to them, but you figured they understood what was going on. You were glad for it now.

“I’ve seen him pace before, but never like this,” Sinker adds.

Oh Maker. “Where is he?”

“The barracks, General.”

“I… I’ll speak with him, alright? Hopefully that will calm him down.”

“Thank you, General! We were running out of ways to distract him!” That was the kind way of saying ways to annoy him to keep Wolffe’s mind off you.

“Thank you, Boost, Sinker.”

“Good luck, General!”

You were going to need it. This was not a conversation to have over the com so you make your way down to the barracks, doing your best to avoid attention when you can. It was not like you weren’t allowed there, but the last thing you needed was more questions.

Boost and Sinker were not lying about the pacing. Punching in the access code to his quarters reveals a tightly wound Wolffe, pacing back and forth across the length if the tight space. His armor has been haphazardly discarded around the room. You’re surprised he hasn’t worn a path into the floor yet.

“General?” Surprise and then relief fall over his face when he catches you standing in the doorway.

“Wolffe, I-”

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

You’re thrown off by the sudden cold tone in his voice. “I-I came to explain, Wolffe… to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“I’ve been avoiding you Wolffe,” your voice cracks despite your best efforts to remain calm, “and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, I just needed to find a way to tell you and I couldn’t.”

His frown deepens, “tell me what?”

“That I’m pregnant.”

“What?” He looks at you live you’ve grown another head.

“I’m pregnant, Wolffe.”

It takes him a moment to wrap his mind around your words, but you can see the instant he does, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ as his jaw falls slack.

“You’re pregnant? With my… with my baby?”

“Babies,” you correct.

His brain seems to sputter out again, “babies?”

You nod, “twins.”

Before you can blink, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, spinning you around the room. “Twins. You’re having twins.”

It takes everything you have not to start bawling. Kriffing hormones. You’ve never seen Wolffe this happy. This was beyond any reaction you could have imagined. The awe on his face when he sets you down makes your heart melt.

“This is why you were sent back? Your sudden illness?”

“Well yes… but Kix’s report was that I had an infection. I wanted to talk to your first before anyone else. I just didn’t know how.”

His warm hand oh-so-gently cups the side of your face. You lean into the touch. After even just a few weeks apart you’re starving for him.

“Why were you worried, cyare?”

“We’d never talked about kids. And we’re in the middle of a war. Not to mention we’re not even supposed to be together on the first place… I didn’t know how you’d react…”

His face softens, his amber eye drifting down to your nonexistent bump. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised. It may not be how either of us hoped, but it is a pleasant surprise.”

“Really?”

“Really, cyare.” You cannot help but smile as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips slanting against your own as he holds you close. “I know there may be somethings we need to work out, but we’ll take it one step at a time,” he murmurs against your lips, hands tracing patterns across your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”