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ghost-proofbaby · 3 months

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OH SAY LESS 14 WITH ASTARION PLEASE

so this is my first time publicly writing and posting astarion, so please be gentle. higher word count solely because i felt the need to add lore because, ya know, first time writing him! also, i changed the line just a tiny bit to better fit the character and scene. ALSO, uh... this is a little fade to black. i'm sorry. it just got too long.

14. "Oh, you're hard to please."

warnings: foreplay, sorta fade to black smut (it's there if you squint your eyes), an ungodly amount of pet names, mentions of past sexual abuse and healing from it, technical game spoilers, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact

pairings: astarion x afab!reader (no pronouns used)

wc: 4.4k+

join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character

How long had it been since Astarion had actually enjoyed sex? Craved it, even?

If he recalls correctly, it had to have started to become tainted well over a century ago. Somewhere between the first and the third victim, when he’d realized how every single beautiful soul he had entrapped were simply being lured to their own death. And then, the sour taste left in his mouth only became more pungent the longer it went on, the more he came to the realization of just how used he felt. His body was no longer his own – it technically hadn’t been his from the very second he’d emerged from his own grave, and Cazador had been waiting for him – and everything about the act became an old rehearsed dance that he’d grit his teeth through. A chore, something to make his stomach churn, something to regret. A means to an end.

Plainly put, it had been a while.

But then you happened. You, who hadn’t blinked an eye when the first time you met him, he’d literally threatened you with a gods damned blade to your throat. You, who had repeatedly trusted him, even when it had been an objectively stupid thing to do. You, who had always offered him the utmost patience and genuine understanding, to the point in which if he thought about it too hard, he’d probably cry. You, who had led your group of misfits with brain worms right into victory, with plenty of personal demons defeated along the way.

Personal demons including Cazador.

Maybe that’s when things changed for Astarion. He’d already fallen for you before your group had reached Baldur’s Gate, he’d already gotten to know your body intimately before ever laying eyes on that ridiculously oversized brain you somehow made look easy to defeat. But that had been different, hadn’t it? He hadn’t really wanted to do that (not meant as an offense to you – certainly not after all was said and done), but had thought he needed to. To gain your trust, to gain your protection. And in the end, it turned out he never needed to do such a thing. You’d never said it outloud, probably at risk of making him feel even more regret after you’d learned all his secrets and darkest corners, but he knew.

And knowing that you didn’t view him as something purely sexual, as a means to an end, as an item to use – well, it had the opposite effect of his request to no longer be viewed in that light.

“What are you doing?” he says as he quickly looks up from his current book he’d been pursuing the moment you’d entered the room. He hardly cared for the words on the page – he just needed a way to pass the hours until you were available again.

It was a hard habit to kick. Being so codependent on you, even with the end of the world resolved and the gift of safety being handed over to him on a silver platter.

“We received mail,” you’re grinning wickedly as you hold up an embellished envelope, delicate fingers pinching the parchment as if it were the greatest gift to ever exist. He’d argue the real gift at hand was the last three months – time spent with you, in a place he can call home. But nothing could impede on your good mood as you throw yourself down on the mattress beside him, “From Withers, of all people!”

His brows shoot up for just a moment before his face twists up with something akin to distrust, “Withers? What in the Hells does that sack of dust and bones wan-”

“A reunion,” you cut him off, the look on your face warning enough against his attempt at an insult. “He’s reaching out to all of us to bring us together for a celebration, to check in on everyone, let us see each other again. Apparently, we were the easiest of the bunch to find.”

Astarion quickly lets out a tut as he snaps the book shut and discards it on the bedside table closest to him, “Well, we certainly need to fix that. Soon enough all of those little shits are going to end up on our doorstep, preaching about the power of friendship and how they want to check in on us.”

You snort at that, laying flat on your back with your hair wildly spread out in a makeshift halo behind you. The sight causes something to stir within him, his gut twisting as he watches the way your knees knock together before slowly falling apart, your legs settling down as flat as the rest of your body.

He hadn’t taken you since that night at his grave. Before the epic final battle, before the two of you had made the decision to settle down somewhere for some well-earned peace and quiet.

The moonlight dances past the open curtains, and his breath catches in his throat at the way the blue shadows dance across your skin. It almost reminds him of the first time he’d seen you fight. It hadn’t just been the blood splattered across your cheeks that had really gotten the better of his curiosity (even if that’s what he had told you when you asked), it had been the sunlight. Those rays of gold that had mingled with your own aura of warmth after you had helped the tieflings for the first time.

You put the sun to shame, truly. And he missed it – Gods, did he miss it – but he was content to bask in the peace of night for a few months more before he finally cut you loose from the leash to begin your next phase of adventures to find him a cure. You had promised him you would, had already dedicated plenty of free time to research, and all you really needed was his word to begin.

He’s selfish. The two of you can find a way for him to walk in the sun once more another day; all he wants right now is to bury himself in your warmth, to slot his body between your thighs, to hear every breathy gasp and the way you’d practically sing his name-

“Star?” you’re looking up at him from an awkward angle, eyes owlish and chin tilted painfully far back as you clearly await an answer to a question he’d been too lost in a daydream to overhear, “Did you hear me?”

He clears his throat and adjusts the pillows behind his back, keeping him propped up as he admires you, “Of course I did, darling.”

“Then what did I just say?”

“Something about how we’re absolutely not going to this reunion, yes?”

Your smile is nothing but patient as you flip onto your stomach. He watches the way your shorts ride up your thighs, how the top of the soft fabric bunches at your waist. His fingers practically twitch with the need to weasel their way under it, to press his cold fingertips into warm flesh and hear you preen.

Whenever you’re ready, you had whispered to him one night shortly after saving the world. Just tell me when, and I’m yours.

He was ready. Insatiably ready, really.

“Very funny. I said we should go, though. It’d be nice to see everyone again, wouldn’t it? All our friends?”

You’re still talking about this damned reunion. Astarion has half the mind to figure out a way to summon the insufferable skeleton right here, right now, and drive a dagger into his bones until he’s truly nothing but dust. Solely for the distraction.

“Your friends, my dear,” he corrects gently, “We both know they’re only overly fond of one of us in this relationship, and it certainly isn’t the one that they repeatedly threatened to stake.”

The furrow of your brows is impossibly cute – he knows that look of determination. It’s the same one you wore when he mentioned it was likely that the two of you would never find a cure to his condition.

“Our friends,” you insist, “Karlach adores you, Star. And Wyll has always been proud of you, whether he told you as much or not.”

“And what of Gale?”

Your lips twitch at that, “Gale… certainly wouldn’t stake you on sight.”

“Ah, yes,” he flourishes, trying to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere but where your hands press into your cheeks as you prop your face up to speak to him, “Not staking me. The ultimate sign of kinship.”

Focusing is a losing battle when you roll your eyes, and he finds his mind overtaken with insatiable lust again. Imaginative ways that he could have your eyes rolling for him under different circumstances.

“You’re not getting out of this. They are your friends just as well as mine – so argue all you want, but we’re going to the reunion.”

“Are you sure there’s no other way I might be able to…” he pauses with intent, finally lifting one of his docile hands to your cheek, letting his finger graze the skin with a feather light touch before it travels back into the mess of your hair, “Persuade you otherwise?”

You almost fall for it, too. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tilts into his touch as if you were starved for the connection. But even with the lack of sexual intimacy, you both know there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last three months where Astarion hasn’t found a way to get his hands on you.

Holding your own, resting his cheek on your shoulder, spinning you like a child in the kitchen – he had quite the sudden arsenal of romantic gestures that didn’t involve old wounds. It had been awkward here and there, some of them landing and some of them leaving you both looking like fools, but he was trying.

Almost as hard as he was currently trying to not jump your bones.

When you recognize the innuendo for what it is, however, you harden immediately. Your shoulders set, a frown settles, and your eyes open with set determination he knows he can’t falter without speaking plainly to you.

“No.”

“No?”

You’re quick to lift yourself up onto your knees, putting distance between yourself and his hands, “The days of weaponizing sex are over. I don’t even want to joke about that.”

And, oh, he’s finding himself in quite the mood tonight, because as soon as you’re retracting, he’s following. As you settle on the haunches of your calves, he’s lifting up from his reclined position, leaning forward so that his face is breaths away from yours.

“I mean it,” you warn, narrowing your eyes and holding up a finger in that small space between you two.

He tests his luck, wasting no time in snapping his fangs just millimeters from your skin. You both know he wouldn’t actually bite you, but it still humors him to see the way you whip your hand out of his reach.

“Were you not the one who insisted that we ask before we bite?” you snap, and his smile only worsens. Like a cheshire cat, like a child never scorned by the world – he’s radiant and basking in the moment.

He lets out a small hmph before saying, “You’re no fun, my dear. Come on – just play with me for a moment, won’t you?”

Your face softens at his teasing tone, and he can see the way he’s withering away your defenses one by one. There was once a time where he’d done it with malicious intent, but this time around, it’s with nothing but good intentions.

If you asked him, he’d go as far as to swear it on his own grave.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as if you’d done something wrong, and it makes more than half of his own playfulness drain from his face in absolute displeasure. Before he can so much as open his mouth to scold you about unnecessary apologies, you’re continuing on, “I just… After everything we’ve been through, it’s not something I find particularly joyous to joke about.”

What a rare thing, to have found someone to bare your soul and all your burdens to, and watch them offer to help you shoulder the weight without second thought or regret.

He’s never met someone like you in all his years, and he might never again.

“And if I told you I wasn’t joking?” he asks slowly, carefully, trying to choose each word with the utmost care, “I’m not weaponizing – I’m offering.”

Whenever you’re ready. Just tell me when, and I’m yours.

He was ready. Very, desperately, sorely ready.

The topic of the reunion is all but forgotten as you process his words, nose twitching as you decipher all that’s he laying out before you. “I want more than an offer.”

“Excuse me?”

He can’t help the small laugh that leaves him as he sits up properly, leaning into your space fully now with one hand pressing into the mattress just beside one of your thighs. He can feel the heat radiating from you, smell your blood rushing to your head as you try to be sensible. It’s a pitiful excuse for an internal war; all he has to do is close that conveniently small distance between your lips with his own, and you’ll have lost all sense of logic.

“You’re…” you trail off, searching his eyes as if he holds the answer you’re currently looking for, “You’re sacred to me, Astarion. You must know that. And it will take much more than some joking offer to convince me to have sex with you when I know-”

“I’m not joking,” he’s nearly whining, letting his forehead fall forward to press to yours, “Gods, I am not joking about this. Cross my heart and hope to die again.”

If he has to beg, he will.

He’s spent two hundred years in an insufferable position of pure misery, pure shit, and the realization that he’s finally free has everything clicking into place. Proof of the change exists solely in the fact that he could have resorted to his tired old seduction routine from his life before to get what he wanted, but instead, he’s trying to just communicate.

It was a novel moment.

But he could appreciate it later, when the crotch of his pants wasn’t becoming increasingly uncomfortably tight and he wasn’t watching you closer than prey. When his stomach wasn’t so tight with desire and anticipation, just waiting for your word to indulge.

“Do I need to beg?” he sighs, his lips brushing against yours ever so slightly from proximity. He catches the shiver that runs up your spine. “We both know I’m not particularly fond of it, but if I have to get on my knees for you- well, actually, that’s the entire point of what I’m asking.”

You laugh at that, and his gut twists again, because it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever had the opportunity to hear. Something more breath than any vocality, something sharp and spelling out the loss of words on your tongue.

Your silence is enough for him to push it all a step further. Forehead still leaning against yours, he properly presses his lips to yours this time, slotting them between softer than a feather’s caress. Finding home as he can physically feel himself steal your breath away. His fangs just barely nip your bottom lip, unintentionally but still eliciting a delicious reaction of a gasp that makes him graze you a second time just to feel the way you’re leaning into him more, becoming absolute putty in his hands. Pliable for his taking, and Gods, he wants to take you.

Something snaps.

All hesitation has vanished as he grabs at your hips quickly, making use of the way your brain has gone blank from a simple kiss in order to lay you out below him. He moves you with ease, incredible speed in slotting himself between your legs before he’s caging your entire body in with his own. The squeak that leaves your lips from his manhandling affects him even more than your gasps had, a low growl shaking his chest as he kisses you deeper. Tasting, begging, searching – he wants this, but he needs to know that you want this just as badly.

Your hands find purchase on each of his shoulders, squeezing tightly as if needing something to tether yourself to. You pull him in closer for a second, eagerly returning the kiss, almost feverish in the way you drink him in. But the next, you’re pushing him away, a game of want and sensibility still clouding your judgment impossibly.

You always were stubborn about things like morals. And, well, it wasn’t very moral to just jump right into sex with your traumatized boyfriend who had explicitly said not to view him in terms of sex, was it?

It was Astarion’s own damn fault.

He could have just acted like a normal person, initiated a normal conversation in which he renegotiated his boundaries. But you’ve been on his mind all day, and he’s long since proven since the very day that you met him that he has little to none impulse control.

“My, my,” he murmurs, pulling back from the kiss, eyes wild, looking at you with even more hunger than he had the first night you’d given him a taste of your blood in camp, “You’re just an impossible thing to please, aren’t you? Do you want me near, do you want me far? Tell me, my love, what do you want?”

He settles all his weight onto one of his forearms as the other slowly brings his hand to your side, caressing over the soft fabric of your shirt – a shirt he’s quickly realizing is actually his own. He recognizes those flowy sleeves, that lacing across the chest, the off-white tone that had seen better days. Given all its wear and tear, he’s almost sure that it’s one of his shirts he had grown most comfortable wearing during the nights of your adventures against the Netherbrain.

It’s cute. A sort of domesticity that he can ponder over later, when your legs aren’t hanging on his hips and your breaths aren’t coming out staccato as he hovers just out of reach from you.

“I want whatever you want,” you whisper. Your eyes flutter open, looking at him with pupils so dilated they could swallow him whole.

“Let me be very clear, then,” he hums, cold fingers creeping their way to the hem of the shirt, slipping beneath with practiced ease to find the smooth skin of your hips below. They dance and skitter up, up, up until he’s brushing against your ribs, “I want you. I want that warm cunt of yours, I want to feel every gasp and breath as your walls squeeze around me. I want to fuck you until you’re unable to walk on your own two legs, until you can only remember my name. I want to watch you come undone, my dear, and for it to be my own undoing.”

Your lips quiver in anticipation, and he feels your thighs tighten their hold on him, “Such pretty words. And… and no ulterior motives? No sense of obligation?”

“None at all,” he smiles, a predator closing in on his prey, “I’m choosing this. If you want it, if you’ll have me, then I’m ready, pet.”

Pet. The nickname rolls off his tongue, and he can imagine your walls fluttering just as your eyes do.

Your hands lift from his shoulders to bury in his hair instead. One cradling the back of his head, the other resting on the nape of his neck as you toy with a snowy curl. It unfurls him further, has him humming lowly as he dips down to recapture your lips and bring you into him even closer. Closer. He needs all and any space between the two of you to become nonexistent. To feel every inch of your skin pressed to his, to allow you to physically curl up into his chest just as you had his mind all those moons ago, to make a home in a room with your name on it already somewhere between his third and fourth rib.

“Do you really have to doubt if I’ll have you, my love?” you mutter against his mouth, smile breaking the kiss momentarily before he’s back with a vengeance. You don’t care – you’re apparently in a chatty mood, dodging his kiss to get your last words in, “There’s been a space in my heart for you since the moment I first met yo-”

“Yes, yes, very romantic,” he interrupts urgently, suddenly tugging your shirt up, “But, truth be told, love? I’m hoping there’s a space between your legs for me at this moment.”

You snort, eyes pinched shut as you attempt to shake your head at the ridiculousness of the words that just left his mouth. At any other moment, you might point out how the outrageous comment is just another defense mechanism, veering him away from having to acknowledge the gentle sentiment behind your own words, but now’s not the time. When you open your mouth, probably to say something exactly along those lines, he rolls his hips down against yours, pinning your lower half deep into the mattress. You feel just how hard he is through his trousers – it’s impossible to miss, but he’s deliberating being sure that you feel it as he lets the tips of his fangs sink into your bottom lip.

The resolve of fighting against his wishes is quickly dissolved. One thing after another, and Astarion has you bare beneath him before any other distractions or annoying conversation can send the two of you further off track. Your, his, shirt is tossed to one side of the room. Your parents fly to the other side of the bed. Only once he has the entire spanse of your body nude and vulnerable to him does he take the time to pause, to look down at you with absolute adoration.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.”

He’s said those words to you a million times before. Consistently greeting you with them, muttering them in the dead of night, whispering them as he kisses you awake. But they never lose their weight. And certainly not now, as he’s looking down at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen that freckle on your chest or the curve of your stomach barren before him.

“Please, if you’re comfortable with it…” you start, voice laced with desperation, but he shakes his head.

He’s full of interruptions tonight, “Consider me comfortable with anything unless stated otherwise for this moment, my sweet.”

“Take off your clothes, Astarion.”

His giddy smile should annoy you. That smug satisfaction in finally, finally getting his way as he undresses himself at almost twice the speed that he had stripped you. And yet he knows you’re enjoying yourself just as much as he is. You’re reveling in drinking in the bare caricatures of his body, every inch and every curve exposed to you just as you are to him. And when his cool skin meets yours again, his body sinking right into that space between your thighs that you’ve granted to him, you let out a short gasp that reminds him that you want this just as badly as he does.

You’ve waited just as long as he has.

It almost mirrors that night on his grave. The slow descent of his body against yours, the way he slides a leg up to spread your own even further for him as he crawls his way back home to your lips. Unlike that night, however, he isn’t taking quite as much care, his movements far faster and far more needy.

He’s been waiting long enough. He’s denied himself long enough.

It really doesn’t matter when the last time he had enjoyed sex had been, because all that he cares about is that here and now, in this moment with you, there’s not a trace of imperfections to taint his enjoyment.

Cazador is dead. The brain has long since been defeated. You are both safe.

As he sinks into your heat, the only thing on his mind is that contentment, overwhelmed with the feel and smell of just you.

He’ll never be a slave again. Never be viewed as something to simply be used and disregarded again, if you have any say. And one day, some day, he’ll even feel the warmth of the sun again. Thanks to you.

But until that day, the warmth of your love is enough.

When you sigh his name out so delicately, jaw all but unhinging itself in bliss as your back arches in reaction to his touches, he knows he’s made the right choice.

And he supposes he lied, in a way, earlier.

You’re not that hard to please – not when it comes to him, at least. Not when it’s his hands trailing along your skin, not when it’s his lips and fangs nipping at every opportunity. And certainly not when it’s his name that’s being chanted like a prayer from your lips in time with every thrust, every stroke, every single movement with the sole purpose of making both of you come undone.

Astarion no longer questions when the last time he enjoyed sex was in the aftermath of it all. With you, pressed into his side, sweaty forehead nuzzling his chest, the only thing he cares about is the next time he’ll be able to do so.

“We’re still going to that reunion,” you murmur, half asleep, fading away from him quickly to fall into blissful unconsciousness.

He almost doesn’t breathe in fear of disturbing you. He’ll waste the night away, laying here, still as a statue for your comfort.

It’s no surprise when he refuses to put up a fight, instead his hand simply drawing soft stars across the back of your bare shoulder blades as he sighs, “Yes, dear. We will. Now sleep.”

“I love you.”

The words tumble from your lips so carelessly, so easily and without hesitation, he nearly shakes you awake to hear them once more. Again and again, he needs to hear them, to be reassured that you feel for him as ardently as he does you.

But he has the rest of your forever to hear them. So he lets you sleep, sending you away with a simple press of his lips to your temples as your breathing evens.

“And I love you, my dearest sun.”

#ghost's stories #smutty party #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion x you #my writing #there's a line in here that my best friend watched me write in real time IN PERSON that we both cackled about #i went 'i really shouldn't include it' and she went 'but it's HIM'#it's giving 'i'd rather be the only dark power inside you'#idk if this is good but it is what it is ya know #if the ending feels rushed it's because i felt terrible for how long it was getting lol #i just wanna love on the boy #i just wanna love him and he love me is that too much to ask #so many pet names i considered editing but the voices won

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cheriboms · 6 months

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need i say more 🕴

#back to the future #bttf #marty mcfly #michael j fox #my arts #how do i tag #this was gonna be my post yesterday before i saw the pic of crispin and lea lol. but i still liked it so yeah u guys can have it now :P #me when two marties at the same place on the same day 🤯🤯#also that second outfit is the funniest thing ever #pov ur in 1955. 1st pic when ur parent [read: “uncle”] dresses u vs 2nd pic when u dress urself #he felt so cool for what #silliest boy ever <3 #also trying a slightly different style. idk if ill keep it? i was just trying stuff out w simplifying likeness etc #i dont think this is a v good example but i do have a proper headshot that i think actually looks like mjf so like. yah #we will see if/when i post that. im getting really off topic sorry bye

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general-cyno · 6 months

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one of my favorite things about wano is that it has a whole bunch of zoro protecting luffy bits. from their reunion all the way to the start of the raid and during their confrontation with kaido + big mom

zoro protecting luffy always has a special spot for me ngl. luffy's the strongest in the crew and he's normally the one facing the most dangerous enemies, taking on the biggest risks and such. although luffy has definitely gotten help from/been saved by other straw hats and non-crew characters before, throughout the manga zoro's been shown consistently worrying about his safety and jumping in to save him whenever it's needed. he's usually the one to notice and signal to the others when luffy's genuinely in danger too (and luffy in turn has done the same for zoro). points at thriller bark again one of zoro's most impactful moments in the story is about protecting luffy, even.

but luffy does worry about him too! he's shown reacting to zoro getting hurt the few times it happens in his presence:

plus - after zoro momentarily stops kaido and big mom's conquest of the sea (taking the brunt of it by himself/redirecting it? the panels are a bit confusing to me but otherwise luffy and the rest would've looked injured from that particular blast imo), which leaves him pretty wounded as law later points out, luffy's already angrily going after kaido

I love this arc.

#zolu #tp #yknow that quote that's used for ships a lot like #'you save everyone but who saves you?' or smth along those lines #it's probably nowhere near related to this particular context but. makes me insane to think of zoro's protectiveness toward luffy this way #once more: I love them #I know we're in egghead rn but wano. man. wano zolu was so good #there's also hm. smth really curious to me abt how they both kinda....died in this arc when neither of them was there to see it #idk. felt a little deliberate. they wouldn't have reacted well to either events that's for sure #jay reads op

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rottengurlz · 8 months

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lover, don't touch me // leave, i am a danger to you // but ooh, i hunger for you

#this is leona's vampire lover audra #i guess you could say the first time they met was when audra nearly killed her in a blood lust because she hadnt fed in so long #idk how to describe it well but audra suddenly stopped devouring her when leona looked at her with no fear in her eyes #but looked at audra like she was something to worship #she whispered that audra was so beautiful even as her own blood was splattered between them and staining her lips #leona had never seen someone or something so perfect and powerful #power that she wanted and knew exactly how to get when audra whimpered over the slightest bit of praise #i never talk about them but i am CONSTANTLY thinking about them <3 #some fun little facts is leona killed her husband in cold blood because he was pitiful and boring #she married the first person to show any interest in her just to get away from her family #he would have been a perfectly good husband for anyone else #but the best part of their marriage was when she stabbed him in the stomach 47 times and felt his blood splatter against her skin #for audra OBVIOUSLY had to make another oc who would do anything to be loved even if it means destroying herself #audra was turned very suddenly and without any guidance #she murdered her lover without even realizing it she opened her eyes to find them splattered across every surface of the room #because of that shes done everything she can to protect herself from others even if it means starving herself of blood #until she goes into a frenzy #leona is the first person she has ever willingly fed off of #idk if willingly is the right word since leona practically begs her to do it #i really want to remake leona now.........#i like how leona looks but i want her to match audra better #mysims #the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 cas #ts4 cas #sims 4 edit #ts4

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azidoazide-art · 1 year

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disappear into the tides' embrace, the only thing left to hold you

#kh #kingdom hearts #chain of memories #namine #idk i just felt like drawing waves #(i drew most of this after rewatching chain of memories)#i love nami she deserves better #i'm not very good with painted stuff but working lineless this way was really fun #heres to experimenting #i drew the vast majority of this in fucking. september #and then i kept feeling like Something wasn't right #at the end of the day i just ended up cleaning it up very slightly so. it is what it is ig

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petite-phthora · 8 months

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This yours?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 12]

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Part 1

Ao3

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Somewhere else, in a seemingly abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, a figure shrouded in darkness and wearing a dark cloak plots.

In front of them is a whiteboard. It’s covered in pictures, sticky notes, and illegible texts. Some of the notes thrown about that are legible are ‘fight…’, ‘draw blood.’, and ‘DEATH!!!’.

There’s a crude stick figure drawn in the corner of the board, it’s impaled. Other small doodles can also be found all around the board.

Most of the information and pictures are connected by red strings, like you see in movies.

In the middle is a picture of 2 people sitting on a motorcycle, the arms of the person sitting in the back are around the waist of the person sitting in the front. The picture has some arrows pointing towards it and the people in the picture are very obviously circled.

Though the face of the person driving the motorcycle is obscured by their helmet, the other person seems to be heavily blushing and grinning broadly.

“Yes… yes! That’s it! I know what to do…” They seem to be speaking to themselves.

Quickly, the person scribbles down a barely legible ‘sacrifice!!‘.

They start cackling.

“Mwuahaha!”

It’s an evil laugh they’ve been working on for quite a while now, and they’re pretty proud of it.

However, the effect is slightly ruined when a fly enters their mouth, cutting off their cackling with choking as they gasp for air, grasping at their throat.

A few good thumps against their chest, with some coughing out their lungs, helps them dislodge the fly from their throat and they spit it out on the ground. They take a few deep breaths before straightening up again.

“Curse you” the person exclaims, angrily waving their fist at the fly as it flies away.

---

Bruce’s face gives off nothing as he stares at the streets down below. He’s dressed as Batman, crouched at the edge of a building with Damian by his side as Robin. Spoiler, Black Bat, Nightwing, and Red Robin are further back on the rooftop.

They watch in silence as another group of the Joker’s goons passes by. They’ve been all over the city, wandering around, not doing anything obviously illegal.

They don’t stay in one place and they don’t seem to have much of a purpose. No attacks… No stealing… No smuggling or transport of goods… No, instead they’re inspecting every single inch of the city.

They don’t seem to have any weapons on them. All they’re carrying on them are some flashlights. While most don’t give anything away with their body language or expressions, some seem to give off a bit of anxious energy.

Spoiler claimed she even saw some of them climb down into the sewers earlier and then climbing out again sometime later somewhere else, but this time ‘dejected and stinky’.

One thing seems clear to the Bats.

They’re searching for something… or someone.

“This basically confirms that not even the Joker’s henchmen know where he is. He’s missing.”

“I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing”

“Good… thing?”

“It’s… something. That’s for sure.”

“We don’t know if he’s really missing. For all we know it could be a trap. What if the Joker is hiding, pretending to be missing to have us bring our guard down? Besides, how could he be missing? He’s the Joker. No one’s just gonna kidnap him”

“For all we know he could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere”

“I highly doubt that”

“Everyone, focus” Bruce speaks up, having them draw their attention to him.

“It’s unclear whether the Joker is simply hiding away or missing. Instead of focusing on the why, we need to focus on the where. Missing or not, we need to find him and get him back to Arkham. Oracle, have you managed to find out anything from the footage yet?”

“Nope, still nothing. All the files from the moment he enters Crime Alley are wiped and any attempt at recovering them only brings back corrupted files.”

“We need Red Hood. Where is he?” Bruce asks.

“He still has his phone on silent and he has removed the trackers and cams. We haven’t placed any new ones on him yet”

“Let’s visit him on his turf then. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the meantime. Oracle, try recovering the missing files. If that doesn’t work, go back to the breakout footage. Perhaps he left some kind of clues about his plans or whereabouts behind there.” Bruce states.

“Roger that.”

---

Red Hood has his arms by his sides as he gazes down upon the street below from the rooftop of a random apartment building in Crime Alley.

He’s lucky to have avoided the Bats so far. But he doubts his luck will last for long.

Red Hood stiffens as he suddenly feels something clamp down on his arm. As a reflex, his other hand has already drawn his gun.

He slowly raises the arm he felt something clamp down on and looks at it, only to make eye contact with a girl with black hair and blue eyes who has sunk her teeth into his arm and is now hanging off of it.

The teeth are sharp, as the girl seems to have some small fangs. They’ve gone through his jacket and sunken into his skin.

It doesn’t really hurt all that badly though, probably hasn’t even drawn much blood, and that’s one of the only reasons Jason hasn’t flung the kid off of him yet. Another reason is the fact that it’s a kid.

They both stare at each other for several seconds.

As Jason takes her appearance in, he notices that she seems rather familiar. In fact, she looks like a more feminine version of Danny, or if Danny had a twin.

The person hanging off of his arm looks younger than Danny though, probably a teenager around 13 or 14, if he had to make a guess.

Slowly, he puts his gun away and takes out his phone with his other hand, watching the random girl’s eyes follow his movements. He raises it level with her face and snaps a picture, quickly sending it to Danny and ignoring the girl’s curious gaze while she’s still hanging onto his arm by her fucking teeth.

---

Meanwhile, Danny checks his phone to see Red Hood sent him a message. He opens it and is greeted by a picture of Ellie in human form biting down on Red Hood’s arm with the caption ‘this yours???’

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #Im wondering how easy/hard it is to guess who the person is #and also yes its supposed to have stereotypically comedic 'evil'/'villain' vibes #the person did that on purpose because they are dramatic and have style #also i aged ellie down a little from how old she *should* be cause i felt like it fit better #If you need a reason maybe she like ages a little bit slower due to being a clone or something idk #oh and i have a question for you all #should i make a masterpost??#i have like the very first chapter pinned but i feel like a masterpost might be better #especially cause like i already have 12 chapters and the story is only getting longer #damn this story has gone further than expected from a oneshot lol #it all started with me just tinking it'd be funny if like #a character was basically in shock but was still like nah I cant just kiss someone without consent lol #also I said id post like 5-6 chapters and this is still only like 6k :( i really need to write more ;-;#and also if y'all haven't noticed already #all I know of dc is through fanfics and fandom posts #though I really want to start reading the comics #i just haven't really had the time nor do I really know what's good and where to start #so like if anyone has any recommendations for dc/batfam comics they are more than welcome!! ^-^

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madame-mongoose · 7 months

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A lotta people make jokes about this scene and I get it but also it's so fucking important to Simon's character and the message they try to convey with him throughout the show that I wish people would talk about more

(TW for discussions of suicide)

This entire scene with Golbetty is the accumulation of Simon's suicidal thoughts and ideations finally coming fully to light.

The entire series, Simon putting on the crown is akin to a suicide of some sort. He would be killing himself, killing the essence of his being as he believes it will make everyone happy. He doesn't fit in, he feels out of place and unloved. He tells Golbetty that he felt like his life had no meaning on Ooo, and cuts to this shot:

He wishes for release from his emotions and his baggage, whether that's through the blissful insanity of the Ice King, or through Betty ending his suffering and swallowing whole. I don't believe he stopped feeling suicidal either even after he returned to Ooo. Of course those feelings never really do go away (I would know) but now he has a therapist. A better support system as well (I hope)

That scene and Simon's character arc as a whole is so important to me. Seeing him struggle with these self destructive thoughts and actions and yet still learning and growing and changing really puts things into perspective. I know the end of the show was controversial (I have my issues too) I think overall it's so very very good at tackling depression and suicidal thoughts in a nuanced way

#i probably could elaborate better im just not very good with words #also bc i get really clammy talking about this kind of topic #but idk it was important #and i felt really seen #fionna and cake #simon petrikov

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gogolizards · 1 year

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i’ve got you inukawa 👍

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #maybe I am a little bit too sensitive but some of the inukawa alien sequence made me a bit uncomfortable..#i thought it was beautifully animated but yk..#mp100 spoilers #mob psycho spoilers #mameta inukawa #reigen arakata #shigeo kageyama #tome kurata #im not tagging everyone sorry #anyway the episode was really good! that part made me uncomfortable just cause idk it felt more intense than how it was in the manga..

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twomanyfandomshelp · 27 days

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I watched Scott’s Real Life video first because he and Joel are the main two I watch, which is ironic because of their ongoing in-game feud and very different personalities, video styles, general vibes, etc., but I digress.

My first thought when I saw the title was “Yay, another life series!” My second thought, upon seeing Joel standing in the circle, was “Oh my gosh, Joel, three SMPs at the same time? Why does he do this to himself?” Then, after watching for a bit, I was like, “Okay, never mind, this an April Fools video, still fun though.” And then I proceeded to enjoy the silliness and binge everybody else’s videos.

Let me tell you, watching Martyn’s video before Scar’s and hearing Scar yell that he’d fallen out of his wheelchair, I was really worried, and I immediately searched for Scar’s video to make sure he was okay. I’m glad he’s alright, I bet that was scary.

On another note, do y’all consider Cleo’s win cannon? Cause I do! Go Cleo, she deserved this.

I’m kinda sad it wasn’t Joel or Jimmy though, I got really excited when I realized how well Jimmy was doing. He got, what, 7th place? The canary curse has officially been broken!

This post has gotten way longer than I intended. Oh well.

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fever-project · 2 months

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Royal Pains of Uncertainty

@breannasfluff’s Finish the Prompt LU style - Angst

In bold is what Breanna wrote for the prompt. The rest is my own writing. I’m used to only writing in past tense so it was a fun challenge to write in present tense. Making Wild be a bit self-deprecating in this for the extra layer of angst. Also a lot of repetition. And yelling. I am also not used to writing angst. Everyone makes up in the end because I cannot write sad endings for anything.

The crack of an open palm on a face has Wild whipping around. Legend clutches his cheek, already blooming red, and Hyrule lets his hand fall. His fists are balled to his side and his chest heaves.

The two were in an argument before this that was rapidly growing more heated, but what could have led to this? Hyrule usually comes across as meek compared to the others on the Chain.

Yet Legend is shrinking into himself, like something the traveler said hurt him more than the slap.

“What happened?” Wild asks as he joins them. What could Legend have done to make Hyrule so upset?

Hyrule opens his mouth to answer before shutting it in an instant. He huffs, clenching his hands even harder as he whips around, stomping off towards the edge of the camp.

“Hey, Hyrule-Link, Wait!” Wild shouts out,but Hyrule ignores him. The traveler sits down against a tree, burying his head in his knees, gripping them tightly.

Wild looks over at Legend, the pained look he had now gone, replaced with a blank stare as his hand lightly grazes his hurt cheek. Legend suddenly straightens up, looking off into the quarter distance. Wild thinks about reaching out to him, but his hand likely would’ve gotten slapped away anyways.

Legend inhales sharply and shakily, softly cupping his own cheek and walking silently towards the center of the camp. He sits down on one of the logs and buries his face in his hands.

Wild was now alone, a few mushrooms in hand. He was just scavenging for them, wanting to make something nice for the three of them. The others had gone out to investigate a nearby dungeon, the three of them staying behind to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. They all promised to make sure that nothing bad would happen between the three of them.

And look at what happened when Wild broke that promise. He’d just tuned the other two out when they started arguing, because it’s not like it would lead to anything big right? Wild was a fool. He knows this well. He’s the greatest fool out of the group, surely.

That didn’t make it so he couldn’t fix the mess he could’ve stopped, however.

Food is the key to heart, as they say, and Wild already has some mushrooms quite literally in his hands, so he should make food with it, like he planned to. He also happens to have some rock salt in his Sheikah Slate. Salt-grilled mushrooms it is then!

Walking over to the cooking pot that was thankfully already set up, Wild gets to work, humming all the while. He notices Legend looking at him over to his left from the nearby log, head slightly upturned and eyes peaking through his fingers. His eyes were red and wet, clearly having been crying. A lot. Crying so quietly that even the moss he was sitting upon couldn’t have heard him. A skill no one should have to master, yet there Legend was. Wild’s heart stung at the sight, so he gave the veteran a little wave and smile to cheer him up, even only slightly, but the veteran immediately hid his face again.

Wild sighs and turns back to his food. He was a fast cook and this was such a simple dish, so he was almost done already. Looking up and over to where Hyrule is, he was still in the same position, but his head was up and looking away from the camp. Was he crying as well? Quietly as well? Was it a skill well mastered between the two? What had happened between them? Before all of this even? Who was in the wrong and who was in the right? Why did they have to be crying so quietly?

Well, Wild was definitely in the wrong for not paying attention to the other heroes. That was on him. But what in Hylia’s good name are they even fighting about? It was frustrating for him, to not know what was going on between his friends. His crying, heartbroken friends.

But now it was food time.

“Heeeey there Leggy boy,” Wild coos out to his nearby comrade. Said comrade looks up at Wild in confusion, a vague effigy of a smirk on his face. “Wanna have some salty shrooms? That have been grrriiiled?” The oddness of Wild’s current way of speaking makes Legend smirk even more, which was the intended outcome. Sometimes, random is funny. Sometimes.

“Yeah,” Legend answers as his voice cracks, “That’s fine, thanks.”

“No problem friendo,” Wild gives Legend a nice, hot plate of salt-grilled mushrooms. He prepares a plate for himself and a plate for Hyrule. There was a little extra, still in the pot, which was all going down Wild’s throat, obviously.

Holding onto Hyrule’s plate, Wild stands up and calls out to the pouting Link. He knows he was pouting because when the traveler turned around, he was indeed pouting. Hyrule says nothing and does nothing after that. Just blinks blankly at him. With his red, wet eyes.

Wild tries to call out to Hyrule again, taking a few steps towards him, “Heya Rules, you what else rules?” No reaction. “Food! Want some salt-grilled mushrooms? They’re salty~”

Hyrule mumbles something back before looking away. This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Mister traveler,” Wild speaks in a singsongy voice, continuing to walk closer, “it’s eating time~. You need lots of food to grow big and strong~”

More mumbling from Hyrule. A bit louder this time, but Wild still has no idea what he’s saying. Wild groans. He gets even closer.

“I guess you just like acting like a big baby, don’t you?” Wild jokingly scoffs, “And here I thought you were an adult-“

“SHUT UP!” Hyrule screams, whipping his head around. His face is contorted with rage, glaring eyes seething with a rage Wild had never seen from his friend before. Directed at him before. The fury was short lived, Hyrule’s face almost immediately turning into one of regret. But the image was now burned into Wild’s mind, a clear, permanent picture.

Hyrule turns away from him again, the mumbled sorry I’m so sorry he repeats on and on reaching Wild’s ears. But Wild can’t get himself to say anything back. Opening and closing his mouth like a dying fish. A foolish fish that managed to beach himself on a single piece of sand in the middle of the ocean.

Wild’s face was hot. His hands hurt from how tightly he’s clutching what’s supposed to be Hyrule’s plate. Food, food’s the answer to everything. Yes, Wild just needed to make more food. He was the cook of the group. He’s the cook, yes. That’s what’s he good at, cooking, cooking food. The answer to everything. The key to the heart.

Wild walks back to the cooking pot. He sets the plate off to the side and eats his own food, both on his own plate and from the pot. It needs it to be empty after all, if he wanted to make more food. The mushrooms are good, but they were more salty than usual. He can’t see them that well, but that was okay. Food is the key to the heart, and healer of the soul. Wild continues to eat. He’s a quick eater. He’s finished in no time. He’s still hungry.

An angry shout erupted from the left of Wild. Legend throws himself off of the log, and as Wild rubbed his blurry eyes, he could still see the veteran’s furious face as clear as day. But he wasn’t angry at him, no, thankfully no. Legend stomps over to Hyrule, hunched slightly forward, hands clenched into fists. Hyrule shot up, a less angry look on his face, fear and unease filling in for where the rest of the anger would’ve gone.

“You’re a fucking jackass, you know that?” Legend spits at Hyrule, jabbing his finger into the traveler’s chest. Hyrule sputters, anger consuming the fear that had previously held its space.

“You’re the jackass here!” Hyrule shoots back, “You’re the one who started all of this!”

“You know what? Yeah, I did, I know that DAMN WELL!” Legend grips onto Hyrule’s tunic, “At least I wasn’t the one to make Wild CRY! YOU DID!” No, they can’t fight now, Wild didn’t get to make his food, his great food, the key to the soul food. Hyrule’s tearing up, Legend’s tearing up, it’s all Wild’s fault.

No.

No no no.

He can fix things. He was going to fix things.

With a soft, quiet voice, Wild starts to speak, “Al-“ his voice cracks, “Alright you two, break-“ he coughs, “-break it up.”

The two don’t hear him, it seems, as Hyrule begins to snap back. Wild doesn’t want to hear it. He can’t hear his friends be so angry at each and not even know why.

Hyrule shoves Legend away, hard. He stumbles back, surprise quickly being overtaken by even more anger. Hyrule starts to yell, “Well, YOU’RE a DAMNED asshole who-“

“BOTH OF YOU! SHUT! UP!” Wild screams, jumping up and accidentally snapping his wooden plate in half in his rage. It was fine, he had more plates. Sky’s okay with making more plates. Wild had no more patience for these two, however. His throat hurts. Yet he continues, “I am SICK! TIRED! Of the two of you acting like THIS!” The other two flinch in fear, their anger for each gone, albeit temporarily.

Wild was fixing things. Wasn’t he? He had to be, he’s going to fix things.

“Look, I don’t know what bullshit you two were spewing at each other, but can’t you two at least TRY to talk things out like GOSH. DAMN. REASONABLE PEOPLE?!” His throat hurts, his cheeks hurts, he was hurting. But not as much as his friends were hurting. He’s going to fix things.

“This isn’t cute, this isn’t a funny little hoo-ha, people are angry, people are sad, because you two! Who just…can’t be a degree of CALM! Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you?!”

They both nod, but they don’t seem to really understand. Wild is so very frustrated. He hates being so frustrated. He’s going to fix things. He has to.

“Alright, the both of you are going to sit down, right now.” The two shuffle in place, nervously unmoving. Why. Why are they like this? “You two don’t have to sit together, just sit the FUCK DOWN!” Now they rush to their seats, on logs opposite to each other, Legend to his left, Hyrule to his right.

Wild sighs, sitting down and rubbing his temples. He speaks in soft voice like before, so he wouldn’t hurt his throat any further, “I’m sorry for yelling at you two,” he looks at the both of them, who both refuse to look at each other, “And for being rude and mean to the both of you. I shouldn’t have done that, I just-I had felt like I wouldn’t be heard if I didn’t. I was worried someone would get hurt.” Hyrule recoils in on himself, hugging his knees in shame. No, he can’t let them get sad. Food. The key to the heart.

“Alright!” Wild claps his hands, “You pouting mcpout are going to eat your…” Wild looks up at the sky, deeming it to be almost nighttime, “…dinner. Yes, dinner. Leg’, did you finish you dinner?”

“N-no, I haven’t,” Legend responds in a similarly soft voice, “I’ll…I’ll do that now.”

“Good! Now Hyrule,” Wild shoves Hyrule’s plate at him, holding it in place until the traveler finally straightens up and takes it. “Make sure you eat up! And after this, you’ll get to have some cake! Carrot cake! Cake that’s made from carrots.” Wild gives them both a deranged smile as he happily waves his hands as he goes on about carrot cakes. He feels a bit loony right now, loony and tired. He’s not even sure why he suggested carrot cake, but that’s what he’s making now. Carrot cake.

Some Endura carrots, goat butter, cane sugar, and Tabantha wheat. For cake, carrot cake-

“I’m going ducking insane,” Wild groans, running his hands down his face.

“Ducking?” Legend scoffs lightly, a soft smile on his tear-stained face.

“I think I’ve sworn too much today,” Wild shifts into a thinking pose, “Swearing too much can devalue the feelings swearing can bring.”

“Philosophy’s fun,” Hyrule mumbles as he eats.

“Don’t talk with you mouth full huU-ugh, no, I can’t say that,” Wild says as he puts the ingredients into the pot, “I sound too much like a mom.”

“Yeah, you’re not Sky,” Legend teases. They all get a good laugh out of that. A long moment of silence occurs between the three of them after that. It’s not a bad silence, but it’s not really comfortable either. Nevertheless, Wild gets to cooking. He hums the same old tune he’d always hum. He doesn’t remember why this tune was the one he always defaulted to. Was it important to him before, all those years ago? Maybe once this is over, all of this is over, Zelda would tell him. But that was a long way aways from now. Now, he was making cake for his friends. Carrot cake. He wouldn’t be able to eat this cake for a while after this. Or probably any cakes. Or carrots.

“I think I’m starting to dislike c-words,” Wild mumbles aloud, “They’re making me loose my mind.”

“Do you...” Hyrule trails off a bit, plate almost empty now, “Do you want to make something else?”

“Nope. I’m making…this, and then we’re each going to eat a third of it cut into threes, and then you two will talk through you problems. Like adults.” The last word comes out harsher than he intended, but the two didn’t react much, Hyrule continues to eat his food and Legend sits politely, plate clean, awaiting cake.

Wild tries to empty his mind before he does something bad to the food before him.

Wild cheers when the cake is finally done. He makes grabby hands at his fellow heroes’ plates, much to their collective amusement. Legend gives him his plate first, receiving three slices of cake, as promised. Hyrule next, receiving his third of the cake.

“I would’ve given ya one slice at a time, but then I’d probably eat the rest of it,” Wild laughed, scratching the back of his head. Chuckles came from the other two, who then focus on their respective plates of foods. Wild focus on his. His stomach churns as he begrudgingly eats the slices, one by one, slower than he normally would. He still finishes far before the other two.

Wild rests his head on his knees, closing his eyes. The small fire underneath the pot encourages him to sleep. Fire always made him sleepy. But he couldn’t sleep yet, he needed to fix things.

No. He didn’t need to fix things. They had to fix things. The ones who were arguing. Wild can nudge and prod them all he wants, but only they could make things right with each other.

He slows his breath. He relaxes his limbs. He’s wide awake, but his friends don’t know that. To them, Wild’s sleeping soundly. He hears the sounds of wooden utensils cutting through the soft cake, scratching the wooden plate. Sounds of them chewing and swallowing food, of their shoes’ slight movements against the short grass, of the soft breeze that barely moves their hair. A few minutes pass before anyone speaks.

“Legend,” Hyrule speaks up, “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Legend inhales, sharply, before speaking back, “Don’t be. We both know I started this.”

“But still-“ Hyrule pauses after his volume starts to increase, and Wild feels his worried gaze cast upon him. Hyrule lowers his voice, “Still, I went too far. We both know this.”

“You didn’t go far enough,” the words tumbled out of Legend’s, a sharp inhale stopping more from coming out. A few more breaths, and he continues, “I shouldn’t have said you weren’t worthy of a throne.”

A throne? Wild doesn’t move, but he yearns to inch forward, to perk up his ears. But they don’t need him right now, he’s done enough.

“I don’t even know why I asked you that,” Hyrule sighs, “I just suddenly remembered something …and want to ask you about it I guess.”

“…What did you remember?”

“I…there’s something that Impa, my Impa said at the start of my second adventure,” Hyrule takes a deep breath, in and out, “she said her and her family have been ‘waiting for a great king to come’ for generations, to save Princess Zelda.”

“So you feel pressured to be that great king?”

“A bit, a bit yeah. I…know I’ll be a king, eventually. I uh, really like…Zelda.”

“Oh. Ah. Now is not the right time for teasing.”

“I can tell by your face that you really want to,” Hyrule giggles, “but yeah, that’s…why I was concerned about being a king.”

“And you came to me.”

“Well…I figured you’d know more than Wild,” very true, Wild knows nothing about this stuff, “so I wanted to ask you. Because I…trust you.”

A long silence passes between them. Wild wants to speak up, but he can’t. He’ll mess everything up if he does.

“You…” Legend starts, “No, no I shouldn’t say you shouldn’t trust me. That’s not my choice to decide.”

“…I still trust you, you know that?”

“…I trust you too.”

Another long silence. Happier now.

“I’m a prince,” Legend drops out of nowhere. Well it felt like it was out of nowhere, and Hyrule and Wild couldn’t stop themselves from yelling.

“What?!” The two shout in unison, Hyrule yelping at Wild.

“You-you’re awake?!” Legend asks, befuddled.

“Ha ha, yeah, barely,” Wild awkwardly smiles at the other two, “Bold of you to assume I was asleep. You know I snore.” He only snores sometimes, but that wasn’t important. “Anyways, you’re a prince? How that happen?”

Legend looks over at Wild, then at Hyrule, back and forth a few times before sighing.

“Zelda’s my half sister,” Legend said plainly, “I know the trails, and the tribulations that royalty have to go through. I’ve been through some of those things, but I’m grateful that I don’t have to. I just-“ Legend huffs out a small sob, not quick enough at covering his mouth. Hyrule tries to reach out to him, but Wild stops him. He shakes his head softly, ‘not yet’ his eyes tell the traveler. He nods back, retracting his hand and they both await Legend’s next words with bated breath.

“I don’t want you to go through all that pain. And you know me, I’m snarky, I’m the mean, rude one, I’m not good at sentimentality,” Legend runs his hands through his hair, “That’s why I just-waved you off and got so angry when you kept insisting on being a king. I said a lot of hurtful things I clearly shouldn’t have. I’m sorry Hyrule, I really, really am.”

“It’s okay Legend,” Hyrule smile softly at him, “I forgive you. It’s okay you got angry, I understand why you got angry. I know I shouldn’t have gotten angry.”

“No no, you definitely deserved to be angry Rules-“

“I didn’t deserve to HIT you!” Hyrule shouts, throwing his hands up in the air before running them over his face, “I hit you, you never deserved that.”

To both the surprise of both Hyrule and Wild, Legend starts to laugh maniacally at this.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-it’s fine. Don’t worry about it Rulie,” Legend smiles at Hyrule.

“I think you’re downplaying this a bit,” Wild interrupts, to his own surprise, “Even if you don’t care, Hyrule here definitely does.”

“But it’s fine-“

“I don’t think it’s fine!” Hyrule also interrupts him, “We’re not supposed to hit each other because of things like this! You can say you forgive me or don’t-that’s okay, but don’t tell me not to worry about when you’rethe one who got hurt. You just don’t want me to worry about you!”

Legend looks surprised at this outburst, before laughing yet again. Calmer now, gentler.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want you to worry. I don’t like people having to worry about me, or having to worry about others.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Hyrule says in such a way that makes the other two laugh. He laughs too, whether or not he understands why doesn’t matter. “Are you feeling okay Legend, does it still hurt?”

“Of course not, I’m fine-“

“But are you reeeeaaallllyy fine?” Wild dramatically learns over to Legend, who snickers before playfully shoving Wild away.

“Yes, I’m fine, really. It doesn’t even sting anymore. Hyrule’s not that strong.”

“H-hey!” Hyrule’s cheeks turn pink as he pouts. They all laugh.

The tense atmosphere that was here before was now long gone. Things were back to the happy way they were before, with a few more lessons learned.

The stars smile at them as Wild pulls them all into a group hug.

#legend of zelda #linked universe #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu triple threat #lu fanfiction #lu ftp #idk how to do angst. did I get it right?#I probably messed up the tense a few times in here. I noticed at least one that I fixed when I posted this on here lol #typically I don’t really care for leg being siblings with fable but I felt like it would fit pretty good for this #over three thousand words heck yeah

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