#except the beast pillar

[radiance1]

The League tried to interrupt a summoning of a powerful being from the Infinite Realms. From the information they collected, the being isn't of the status of a royalty, but they still had to be careful as the being the summoners tried to call forth was still of noble status.

They failed.

The head cultist finished the ritual, the last words to finish the summoning left their tongue and the room was suddenly doused in heat, as black flame came to life from within the circle, twisting and turning, back and forth until a pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from inside the twisting pillar of flame and just as suddenly as the eyes appeared, was the pillar broken apart.

What was left behind was the figure of a giant phoenix, wings spread as embers black as night gently fell down to the floor below and suddenly disappearing, as if they were never there in the first place.

"Who dares to disturb-" The being started, eyes scanning the crowd below before stilling, extremely and worryingly quiet. One of them quietly cursed. "Constantine..." The creature's voice was low, dangerously low, no doubt anger in its voice as it called out the Warlock's name.

Everyone tensed, expecting something dangerous, except for the cultists, and the Head, who turned his head towards them and smiled, obviously expecting them to be reduced to not even ash.

"100 years. One. Hundred. Years." The being spoke, and confusion wormed its way into the hearts of all those present. "100 years I have waited for you, and when we finally meet once again it's not even you summoned me but these-" The creature waved a wing at the cultist below. "-These fatuous and vacuous little things."

"And what is this? You surrounded yourself with those not even of human birth before you have even thought about me?" The noble's eyes narrowed. "Did our relationship mean nothing to you?

Someone, probably not Constantine, choked.

"Well then, after all of this time you can at least make yourself useful." In a flash of black fire, Constantine was brought from within the ranks of heroes and in front of the beast, a man who seemed to be trying to-and unsuccessfully- lighting a smoke. "Ah, why do that when you have me?" The being purred, bending down to apparently light a smoke before freezing, as if remembering what exactly it was doing, but the action was already done, and Constantine was killing his lungs away.

The phoenix snapped back up to standing above everyone else, clearing its throat as if what happened decidedly didn't happen.

"What exactly did you want me to be useful for, love?" Constantine asked, expelling the smoke from his lungs and deciding that this might as well be happening. The noble huffed, folding its wings at its sides as it stared down at its apparent lover. "Take care of our son for once in your sad, pathetic life."

This time, not only did Constantine choke, but a good chunk of people there did as well. Constantine ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the phoenix incredulously. "Aren't we both men?"

The phoenix looked at his lover as if he were stupid. "Your point?"

"I-" Constantine sighed, took a breath, held, then expelled more smoke from his lungs. Apparently, he decided not to question anything anymore. "You know what? Sure, where is the little bugger?"

Over the next few moments, both the Justice League and Cultists were treated to the noble transforming into a human (still having wings) and handing over their apparent child-who looked nothing like them by being a dragon, but who were they to question the apparent reproduction of a being from the Infinite Realms- and being lectured about what not to do and what to do and how he should be cared for.

Also, a warning for his many powers.

Then the Duke stole a kiss (One that he claimed was long overdue) and left.

The room was silent, only the sounds of breathing occupying the room as the temperature was brought back down to normal levels.

A moment later, Batman walked up to the nearby cultist and punched him across the face and knocking him out cold, suddenly reminding everyone what exactly they were here for.

A while later, in the meeting room, everyone looked at Constantine. Who had a baby eastern dragon wrapped around one arm (who was apparently his child) and rubbing his temple with the other.

"I can't explain this."

===

Danny was actually not Constantine kid, neither was he Vlad's. Biologically, at the very least, however. Vlad did adopt both him and Jasmine a while back after their whole parent fiasco.

They're dead, sadly unable to become ghosts, or perhaps not so sadly.

Of course, they unfortunately outlived Jasmine, which was to be expected, but Vlad and Danny did grow close enough that they no longer viewed each other as enemies.

However, who could have expected that Danny, finally ascending to his princely status, would turn him back into a literal child because he was, for all intents and purposes, one by Dragon standards.

Utter malarkey, he would say.

Taking care of that boy was the worst few memories he has ever had. He was constantly being kept from his sleep, his work being interrupted constantly, and the child managed to find a way to leave his sight at each and every turn.

But there were some sweet moments, he would say.

It's only reasonable, however, that his lover (who he hasn't seen for an entire century might he add) share the workload.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #I don't know how to write John Constantine #But I probably can't do worse then the current writers of DC or Marvel. #Probably. #Anyways. #shitpost #At least I think this is a shitpost #Idk #Or maybe its a #crack fic #crackship #But I thought of this and I find it funny so you all shall be cursed with this

[ameliathornromance]

A Whole New World - Short Orc Romance

- When your Orc found you, you were in your Church with your other sisters of the cloth.

- They all prayed to the Gods.

- Gods that they wished would come, strike down these beasts who threatened your lives.

- The Church doors were difficult to get open, but your Orc did it. The doors burst off the hinges, crashed into the pews.

-Your sisters all took off running, leaving you behind.

- You tried to follow, but ended up tripping over your robes, falling on your front.

- Your Orc stormed towards you.

- You try to scramble away, desperate to escape your oncoming death, but it was no use.

- He was too big, too quick.

- You close your eyes, expecting a bludgeoning with that horrifying club he had clutched in his hand. You raise your hands above your head and cower for your life.

- Any moment now, any second now, he is going to bring that club down on your head.

- But nothing came.

“They left you.”

You squint open your eyes. Between your arms, you stare at him. His expression pained, his endless black eyes staring at you with… sympathy? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing; An orc, sympathetic?

The club slips from his hand, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Stooping to one knee, he bends down to your height. “Those who you called sisters have abandoned you.”

You dare to look around. Hoping to see a sister who was hiding behind the altar, a pillar, or anywhere. With some kind of weapon in hand, anything to help you get out of this situation alive. But it was barren. Empty of any kind of life whom had been begging for salvation.

He was right. They had. “To escape you, you who would kill me for praying for your death.” You hiss back at him. You didn’t dare believe him, wanted to retreat back into the collective opinion about Orcs. But it was too obvious to ignore his logic.

The words were harsh and sharp, the Orc did not flinch. “And who is here for you, now that I have come to take the lives of your people? Your Gods? Who you pray to, but have done nothing to protect you or your people from the raid of my brethren? Did not even force a fellow sister to stay and share in your fate, so that you would not have to go into the night alone?”

The words rang through you like the Church bell at the top of the steeple. Rooted you to the ground, the world you had built to protect yourself from the truth, crashed and burned. You couldn’t deny that he was wrong. Your so-called ‘sisters’ had abandoned you. Left you here at the mercy of this monster, not one of them had turned to try and help you back up.

A sigh escapes the Orc. “In our ranks,” he says, “we do not abandon our own.” The hand that held the club outstretches toward you. “Come. No one deserves to left alone.”

Anger had risen, spiteful and raging within your very soul. At that moment, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, the Orc was right. Your mind drifts back to what the Church had taught you about them, the Orcs. That they were monsters, born from the core of the Earth. Where Magma bubbled and boiled, where nothing should be able to survive. How your Church commanded that your sisters swear loyalty to one another. To protect each other and Holy Ground from defamation of the filth that rose from the Earth. To do it together. To die together, if it came to it.

The Gods had abandoned you and your sisters had left you. You gave your life for Gods who did not care.

This Orc, monster of the deep Earth, had shown you more decency in that moment. Than Gods or humans had done in the time you had been at the Church. Spite riddles through you. You take his calloused, rough hand.

- Travelling in an Orc caravan was not easy. They were loud, smelly and stupid. All except the Orc who had come for you.

- He was quiet, preferred to watch his others fight, drink and be rowdy with one another.

- At first, the rest of the group had ostracised you. “Humans are no good.” They would snarl. “Weak and useless.” But, after repairing a few of their clothes and cooking meals, they warmed up to you.

- They were kind to you... In their own way. Like the time when they left a whole dead sheeps’ carcass in your tent. The note left with it read: “For dinner this eve. Make or else.” Panicked, you went to find your Orc friend, who explained that this wasn't a threat. Far from it, as a matter of fact.

- They spoke to you that way because they spoke to their own like that.

- "My bretheren see you as one of us now." Rovi - the name of your Orc friend - explained.

“They’re quite the group.” You observe. You had thrown out your robes as soon as you could and replaced them with something that was far from Holy. Trousers and tunic that you had sewed together yourself and hair let down to your waist.

“Indeed.” Rovi agrees. He slurps the rest of the soup from his bowl. Fire crackles in the fire pit, the nights sky blankets the whole group of Orcs who proceed to play fight and snarl. This was apparently, a common pass time for Orcs, who beat the living snot out of each other as a show of comradery. “They will never hurt each other though.” Rovi assures you, putting the bowl beside himself. “We do not do that, unlike humans who abandon their own, kill their friends and steal for survival.”

You did not judge his impression of humans. Surely, you’d feel the same way too if a bunch of humans started chasing after you, desperate for your head. One thing, you could not understand for the life of you, was why Rovi had taken you in. Despite his obvious dislike for humans, he still offered you a place in his camp. Maybe It was as simple as he said: “No one deserves to left alone.”

Biting your lip, you tell him, “thank you for inviting me into your camp.” You meant it. If it weren’t for him, you would still be slaving away for Gods who had no interest in you.

Your Orc huffs, “better than being with humans who abandon their own.” He looks away from you. Back to the jeering crowd of his fellows, watching them clasp each others hands and pat each other on the back. A show of congratulations on a good fight.

- Your romance with him started when there was when you returned to your own tent.

- On your bed, was a small pouch of gold.

- Being in an Orc camp, you observed their customs and cultures. Often, when courting others, they would leave a small bag of gold in their crushes living quarters. A sweet, but simple gesture. Orcs loved their gold, even if they did not flaunt it. To do so was, frowned upon and compared to the Lords who wore those stupid puffy trousers and powdered tall wigs.

- You did not know who the pouch had come from, but you immediately thought that your Orc friend had been the one to do it. But you had to double check. And so you would gauge his reaction to it.

“Look!” You rushed over to him. Waving the bag of gold up to him, you beamed, “someone likes me! I found it on my bed when I got back from washing in the river!”

Rovi, returning from a hunt and carrying a, poor dead stag on his back, looked at you, then the open bag, gold glittering in the sunlight. “Was there a note?” He asked you, dropping it to the ground.

The rest of the hunting party grumbled annoyances at him, dragging the meat away. Rovi ignored them.

“No, there was just this bag. I wonder who it could be!” Your eyes dart across the camp, looking to the cooks, who were now busy skinning the stag, to other Orcs who were busy tending to a fire and talking in their mother tongue and to those who were busy trying to read from tiny human books they stole from villages.

“Best not to think about it,” Your Orc mutters. “Small pouch of gold like that? They can’t be that interested in you.” And with that, he lumbers off.

You frown. You thought for sure it would be him. His reaction made your heart sink in your chest. Sighing, you walk back to your tent, tossing the small bag onto your desk and clambering onto your bed. You sigh. If it was not him, then who could it be?

Unfortunately, you had noted that there was a fair amount of guess work that had to happen when it came to this as well. Usually, it went over well – the admired knew who their admirer was, and they got together. But, in rare instances, where the admired got their guess wrong: The admirer would challenge the guessed person to combat and they would fight. Not a play fight. An actual battle.

It was rare, but not rare enough to avoid being discussed by the rest of the camp. You had never seen one yourself, and if you could, you’d like to avoid it at all costs. You like everyone in the camp, care about them all , you didn’t want anyone to get hurt. One had to assume, that if two Orcs vied for the same person... You didn't want to think about that.

- You had thought long and hard about who it could be. You had become close with everyone in the camp, it wasn’t like there was anyone who stuck out to you.

- Truth be told, disappointment stirred in your gut.

- You had hoped that it would Rovi who had been the one to give you that pouch. He was kind and caring, even if he was a bit rough around the edges. He gave you a whole new life, it seemed almost right that you would fall for him. After he was able to show you the rest of the world, when you may have stayed with the Church for the rest of your days.

- The next day, you went to go and do what you had to do by the river, coming back to your tent and your jaw dropping.

A pouch – you couldn’t even call it that – a sack full of gold had spilled out onto the floor in your tent. You wondered if you’d gone mad. Startling you, a cheer erupted from outside your tent. What the Hell is going on?!

You ran out and into the main area, where a ring of tall, hulking Orcs had formed. You stood on tip-toes, jumped to try and get a look at the brawl that had just started, but had to resolve to pushing your way through the rambunctious crowd. Once the other Orcs realize who it was trying to get through, they bark at their others: “Get out of the way! Let (Y/N) through! It about her after all!”

About you? More desperate now, you finally found your way to the edge of the ring just in time to see Rovi swing a right hook, directly into the jaw of his other. The other Orc goes flying, his landing in front of you sent shudders through the floor. You recognise him immediately as Barrow, a chef who you often spent time with in the kitchens. He was an Orc of very little brains, but he made a mean rabbit stew. He made some inappropriate jokes to you occasionally, but apart from that, he kept mostly to himself.

“That’s all you offer?!” Rovi roars, “pathetic!”

Barrow was out cold, your Orc friend’s chest heaving up and down. “What’s going on?!” You shout over the jeering Orc crowd.

Rovi’s face, goes from a furious, angry scowl, to soft at the sight of you. Rather harshly, he kicks Barrow out of the way and kneels down to your height. “I’m afraid I haven’t been up front with you,” he begins.

The rest of the Orcs are still watching, but now quiet. Your ears rang with the silence, so used to their loud and obnoxious shouting that it was unsettling to hear silence.

“I know that humans are more upfront with their courting practices so allow me to conform to your culture… And I couldn’t allow Barrow to offer you something so insignificant and small as one pouch of gold… So... Would you be mine, (Y/N)?”

Stunned into silence, you bit your lip. Smiling, you ask, “so the extra large sack of gold was you?”

Rovi grumbles and looks away from, a small dusting tinge dusting his orc green cheeks. “Well, I had to do something…” He mumbles. “I had to do something to show you I am superior… if this one hadn’t beaten me to it.” He shoots another dirty look at Barrow, who seems to have awoken in a daze. “The combat was necessary to tell him to back off.”

“I think the gold was more than enough.” You wrap your arms around his muscular shoulders and pull him close. “Thank you for everything, Rovi.”

He freezes for a moment and then returns your gesture, holding you tenderly in that moment. The both of you don’t even hear the crowd of Orcs erupting with cheers and shouts of happiness.

It’s just the two of you. And that’s all that matters in that moment.

#orc boyfriend #orc fiction #orc romance #orc x reader #monster x reader #monster x you #monster x human #monster lover #monster romance #monster x female #writing #fantasy writer #am writing #fantasy writing #female writers #fantasy romance

[mrrharper]

Coach's Process of Developing a Jock

TW: mentions of bullying and harassment

There are three pillars that Coach considers vital to the development of his jocks.

The first one is physical strength - football jocks need to have the primal urge to lift heavy things and spend hours at the gym, as well as a never-fulfilled desire for their muscles to get bigger.

The second is football intelligence. A jock shouldn't spend time studying or revising for exams, these things ought not to occupy his mind. But he has to have a detailed understanding of the rules of football, so that he can demolish every oponent he comes across on his way to a championship. He has to know how to execute plays perfectly, read the other team and adapt accordingly.

But the third pillar is just as important as the other two - the attitude. Coach, someone with - let's say - a conservative streak, believes his jocks should present all the masculine traits he deems important, and do this publicly, without shame.

It all begins with pride. From the very beginning of their mental conditioning, Coach makes sure his jocks will he proud men, ready to show off their achievements. A football jock has to make sure everyone around him is aware of his triumphs. This also serves the purpose of keeping the morale in the locker room on a high level - all these jocks have to remember what beasts they are on the field and that they are capable of completely demolishing everyone if they so desire (and Coach makes sure they do desire it).

Next one is domination. As a football machine that is programmed to win, a jock needs to be able to take control of any situation, make himself the alpha in the room and on the gridiron. This assures that he will fight to get that W in all circumstances, not accepting "no" as an answer.

The two traits above are then accented with arrogance. A jock walks around like he owns the place, because he does. The university gets the funding and prestige because of his dominance on the field. He is on top of the social ladder and doesn't question it. He also knows what people are below him and treats them as such, always looking down and displaying his higher status.

All of this is then augmented with anger. Some would call it toxic behavior or "problems with anger management", but for Coach a real jock requires that streak of aggression flowing in his veins. This allows him to function in his environment with ease, as no problem is really a problem when you're ready to just crush your way through it.

And it starts from the very beginning. Hypnotic videos and tracks Coach uses are infested with examples of dominant and cocky behavior. They set the example of how an aggressive and proud football jock acts, and make conforming to such a way or being a high priority.

Later stages require orchestrating scenarios that encourage the expected behaviors and test the instincts of prospective football jocks. When a jock's grades fall below the NCAA threshold Coach suggests getting a nerd to do the hard work. Violence as a way of solving conflicts between jocks is not discouraged, as long as the injuries don't influence in-game performance. Someone always begins a wave of flexing and posing at the end of a team workout sessions.

Every batch of jocks turns into a form of a high-control group after enough time. Bros who respond better to mental conditioning begin to influence other jocks who need some more time to conform, as their proud, masculine behavior and dominance forces the others to either ascend to the same level and join the alpha bros at the top of the ladder or attain the status of "lesser". No football jock will ever be lesser under Coach, so it doesn't take that long for the locker room to become a textbook example of masculinity, cockiness and dominance, with not a single exception to the rule.

In later stages its only a matter of overseeing the jocks in their life on the team, taking action every time it's likely that a jock is sliding back into his "pre-football" ways.

Coach sometimes has to work a bit harder to maintain the order he's created. The league and NCAA officials are not always keen on violence on the sidelines, so when one of his defensive linemen's fist lands on an enemy WR's face, some strings have to be pulled in the background. There are elements within the university structure that are hostile to Coach's methods and the jock attitude he's nurturing inside of his locker room. But every allegation of bullying or cheating can be worked through in such a way that the jocks come out on top. It's not a question of if, but of how.

Every time Coach sees one of his jocks push over a loser on the hallway, trash talk their conference rivals, take part in a biceps measuring contest in the gym or extort some assignments for class, he knows his methods are working exactly as intended.

Now onto the next batch of recruits.

#jock #football jock #jock development

[yandereunsolved]

Breath of a Yandere - ,, Yandere Wild headcanons

tw(s): yandere themes, (Wild) multiple mentions of suicidal ideations/suicide & self depreciation

ꨄ︎ Yandere Wild who met you after waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection. You were a lone traveler from Lurelin Village. You traveled countless months, with many others accompanying you at various points on your journey. You had to know the truth. You had to know if it was true. The rumors about the legendary hero fueled your adventures. You feared the worst, but you found him. He didn't awake at first. You spent weeks traveling out of the Shrine only for necessities.

ꨄ︎ He heard a strange voice coming from the darkness and then saw you. You spoke to him with such a reverence that he wasn't accustomed to. He was incredibly cautious and wouldn't allow you near him. That all changed when you offered him some glazed meat. He shoved it down his throat and suddenly you were his closest companion.

ꨄ︎ Words never leave his mouth. You thought at first it was just the surprise of awakening after a hundred years, but no. He just never spoke to you. He spoke with his hands and through his body language. He taught you most of the Hylian sign language that you know. It is probably better that he doesn't speak. You would be disturbed and greatly flattered about the things he thinks about you.

ꨄ︎ He never leaves your side unless you are both put in a life ending situation. He's like a silent but loyal dog. He is always watching your movements and standing guard over you. You have to cuddle with him before he finally allows himself to succumb to sleep.

ꨄ︎ Guardians? You are staying behind. Shrines? You may stand at the entrance as long as there are no monsters around. If there are then he will kill them and then make you wait. The Divine Beasts? Okay, fine— he allows you in all the Divine Beasts except for Vah Naboris. He allows you to ride with Riju but only because she has the Thunder Helm. However, the Ganonblights? On Hylia's name, no. You go back to the entrance and wait there.

ꨄ︎ Ganon himself? You wait. After your entire journey together, he only speaks one word to you. "Wait." He presses himself against you and makes you hide behind one of the castle pillars. There are tears in his eyes and he is shaking. You are his God(dess). He has killed and sacrificed so much. You saved him. You did. He signs to you. "I face Ganon alone. I can't lose you." His hands get shaky. "I love you."

ꨄ︎ That's the first time he ever says he loves you and his yandere tendencies only get worse from there. More possessive. More obsessive. More puppy-like. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. He always has an eye on you and doesn't allow you out of his sight. He would never hurt you, but he'll hurt others for you.

ꨄ︎ After the battle you two embrace each other and he sobs quietly into your chest. He allows you to patch his wounds. It's difficult because he's hanging off of you. Zelda is sitting near you both around the campfire. It's a little a lot awkward because she's seen his entire journey. She has seen his feelings for you blossom. A part of her hurts because she won't have her Link back, but was he ever hers? It was just his duty.

ꨄ︎ His memories may have come back but he only has one person in his heart. That person is you. Zelda wants him to come back as a knight. He signs no. He has to stay near you. He will die without you.

ꨄ︎ He thinks the sweetest and most depraved things in his mind. He is constantly praising you within his mind. He wishes he could speak those words but he can't. So he signs them. He shows them through acts of service. His mind is just a constant track about you. Partially this is because of his knight training. He was trained to protect and serve. He was trained to help the princess. His mind still sometimes slips back into that. It's just you, you, you, danger?, you, you, you.

ꨄ︎ On that note, his trauma is constantly fueling his tendencies and how he sees you as his god(dess). He was a child knight, blames himself for failing to protect everyone before Calamity Ganon gave over, and woke up with zero memories and a mission to save all of Hyrule. You were the first person he met. You were and still are his guide to this world. Sure, you aren't fated to be with him. Sure, it could have been just a mistake— but you are the first person that ever got him. You didn't push him to speak. You took your time in learning how to communicate with him. You respected him not just as the hero but a person.

ꨄ︎ He takes interest in whatever you are interested in. He will go so far as trying to replicate what you are doing. He isn't great at art but he'll do his best to draw what you are doing. He shows it you like an excited little kid. He does little poems as well. They are all about his adoration to you and how much he wants to spend time with you. Sometimes they have some blood splatters on them. Don't think about it too hard.

ꨄ︎ He his naturally cautious when all of these goods things become interrupted with the introduction of The Chain. He is like a frightened animal with his hackles up. He has his mastersword pointed to the strange group. They introduce themselves and he relaxes a little. He stays by your side the entire time and makes sure everyone knows that you are taken by him.

ꨄ︎ It's really, really, really hard for him when you say you want to travel with The Chain. His thought process is like this: heartbreak. My God(dess) wants to be around other Links? Why do they want to put themselves in danger? Why? Why? I have to protect them. I have to. I need them near me. Why do they want to travel? Will they still cook for me and me only...? Or will I have to share? You want to travel to different Hyrules and fight monsters with them? You want to see their Hyrules? What if my Hyrule isn't good enough for you?

ꨄ︎ As much as he hates it— he'd do anything for you. He sets some ground rules though. No letting the others get too close. Stay by his side. Tell him everything. And do not, ever, put yourself in harms way. That has been his number one rule since day one. No getting yourself hurt. That scares him the most. He could live without you, but you are alive. He'd barely be alive but he could live. If you died? He'd kill himself and die right next to you. So when you get a scratch he wants, needs, aches to kill the thing that gave you that scratch.

ꨄ︎ You both begin traveling with The Chain and it goes better then expected. Wild is still the same Wild. He may even be getting a little better. The Chain is a bunch of hims. Wild is doing better in a way. He's gotten close to everyone and now knows some of their secrets. He's quiet and he listens. They are unassuming of him. Even the more cautious ones such as Hyrule, Legend, and Time bring their guard down a little. He rarely communicates with them but you know he is acutely listening. He only really signs to you.

ꨄ︎ So, it's perfect. There are a bunch of hims that stay away from you and protect you. He is getting them to trust him. You are safer than you have ever been. Safe. So safe. And if he needs to kill them for you? He's already got the information on them.

ꨄ︎ Wild always buys you things from the villages you all go to. He runs up to you and shoves them into your hands happily. It's one of the few times you see a smile on his usually stoic face. He absolutely adores buying you matching fits. He's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He loves matching with you. He even gets you a sword that mimics the mastersword in style. He teaches you how to wield it and everything.

ꨄ︎ He sabotages the others in The Chain if they try to spend time with you. He'll tell you things about them, dark things that he's learned. He'll write them out to you and slip them into your back pocket, your satchel, your bed roll. He'll make them look stupid in front of you. He might accidentally trip them or outbest them in sparring. He makes sure you see the worst of them and the best of him. He doesn't need words to steal your heart all for himself.

ꨄ︎ He always wakes up early and watches you sleep. He tries to resist your warmth to not fall asleep but it's too much. So he wakes up in the morning before you. He watches silently, unblinkingly. He thinks you look so adorable, so pretty, so handsome. You are even more angelic when you are awake. Your smile could even make Ganon fall to his knees.

ꨄ︎ He either makes breakfast for you or with you. He sits guard while you bathe in the river. He wants to take a peek but he doesn't! He's a loyal man. He's tempted. Very tempted though. He loves watching you do your skincare and getting ready though. His eyes rarely leave you while in eyesight.

ꨄ︎ His habits reach their most overbearing after Sage joins The Chain. His life was going so perfect with you. You got protection and he got you all to himself. Now, there's this new version of him. He is acting so... clingy towards you. He just seems so attached to you. Wild begins to get shooed away when Sage is near. You are all about being near Sage. Saving Sage.

ꨄ︎ He refuses to leave your side, even for a moment. He distances himself from the rest of The Chain. He begins to not eat. He begins to not sleep. He gets very nervous and becomes a wreck. He thinks if he does this to himself you'll love him. You loved him when he was like this before. Is this what you want? Do you want someone that needs you? He needs you more than anyone else. He doesn't see any reason to live anymore without you.

ꨄ︎ Like always, you save him. You save him from that dark place and refuse to leave his side. He cuddles into you and refuses to let you go. You feel guilty and you are worried sick about him. Wild almost died and he refuses to tell you why. You were sparring with Sage and suddenly you heard a sword slash in the woods. Wild stabbed himself in the heart with a sword... If it wasn't for Hyrule he'd be dead.

ꨄ︎ You sobbed for hours over his body and you refused to leave. You still do. You are beginning to succumb to his neediness and overprotective ways. Just like Wild wanted. He just needs to be wanted by you. He just needs your love. He just needs one person who will love him above all else.

ꨄ︎ Wild has you, but at Sage's expense. He's extremely irritated that this little boyfriend of yours is taking you away from him. A few of the other Links have mixed, upset, and possessive feelings as well. However, we'll discuss that another time.

tag list; lmk if you want to be tagged: @screaming-until-god-hears-me

#linked universe #lu wild #yandere linked universe #yandere #lu #wild x reader #yandere wild x reader #headcanons and stuff #headcanon #my headcanons #link x reader #legend of zelda #legend of zelda fanfiction #loz #loz botw #love yall #platonically #<3 #linked universe x reader #yandere writing #yandere wild linked universe #yandere themes

[shadowdaddies]

Could you do the classic (in my opinion lol) “if I catch you, I fuck you scenario” with Rhys in Hewn city? I just know this man would have the time of his life teasing and chasing you through the halls.

it’s a classic for a reason 😎 I like the idea of doing this with Rhys bc he would make it interesting with his daemati abilities. This was fun to write, thank you anon

Hide and Seek

Rhys x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, predator/prey, light bondage, rough sex, minors dni or I'll send Bryaxis to live under your bed

You took a deep breath to try to settle your nerves as you set off down the avenue. You and Rhys had a bet: he gave you a ten minute head start once you arrived in Hewn City, and then he had ten minutes to find you. If Rhys found you within the ten minutes, he’d fuck you wherever he found you. 

You were running through the dark walkways as you scanned for any place to hide. With the silver bobbing faelights reflecting against the dark stone of the mountain, it was proving difficult to find a place in the open that you wouldn’t be easily seen. You snuck into the castle, pausing for a moment at the doors to the throne room. No, that would be too obvious. You continued on, becoming breathless and disoriented as you took in the dark artworks of beasts surrounding you. You stopped at the intersection of two hallways, trying to determine if the statue of the great, scaled black beast would be an adequate hiding spot. You turned around; which direction had you just come from? 

“Darling, your ten minutes are up. The hunt begins now,” Rhys’s voice purred in your mind. You panicked, questioning everything as you ran down the nearest hallway. What were you thinking, going into his own castle to hide from him? You opened the first set of doors you found, and quietly slipped into the room. You immediately realized you were in the council chambers. With the exception of the same beastly pillars from the castle halls and the large blacked-out glass table in the center of the room, there was no place to hide. Rhys’s voiced again echoed in your mind, “I can scent you, my love. Have you been lurking around our castle?” 

There was no option to go back into the hallways now, where Rhys would surely find you. You decided your best bet would be to hide under the table, where your reflection was at least hidden, and wait him out. ��Not in the throne room, I see. What a shame, you do know how I love to take you on the dais,” Rhys taunted as he flashed memories in your mind of him fucking you on the floor, over the throne, against the pillars; you watching your reflection in the obsidian walls of the room. A shiver made its way up your spine as you were overcome with a wave of arousal. 

You heard slow, measured footsteps nearing the doors of the chambers, too close for your liking. Before you could devise an escape plan, however, the room went black. You suddenly felt like you were floating, suspended among the stars. You basked in the peacefulness of the sensation for a moment, until you felt hands grab around your ankles and pull. You screamed as your surroundings came back into focus. You were back on the floor of the council chambers, Rhys on his hands and knees above you, caging you in as he gave you a feline smirk of amusement. “Five minutes and twelve seconds, darling,” he said as he leaned down to kiss you. 

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, Rhys slowly massaging your tongue with his own as he poured love down the bond to you. You moaned and arched into his touch, causing a smile to form on his lips. He sat up, pulling you with him by your waist as he stood in front of the table and sat you down atop it. He stepped back to assess you, a predator sizing up his captured prey. You squirmed under his powerful stare, anticipation building in your core at what was to come. 

With a flourish of his hand, you were completely bare before him, to cold air of the room causing you to shiver, and you felt your warm arousal seep onto the table between your legs. Rhys noticed it too, locking in on your center with a feral intensity. He swallowed, licking his lips as he removed the belt from his pants. “Your wrists, darling,” Rhys purred at you, nodding his head towards your hands that were resting against the table. You lifted them up together for him, knowing what was coming next. He wrapped his belt around your wrists, securing them snugly together before lifting them above your head. “Keep these up here while I enjoy my reward, love,” he whispered as his eyes roved over your exposed body once more. 

He laid you back against the table, pulling you forward to where your legs were hanging over the edge. Rhys ran his hands in teasing circles up your legs, getting close to your center before dragging them away and further up your body, earning a frustrated huff from you. He chuckled, enjoying your obvious need for him. He continued roaming over your body with his fingertips, pausing to flick each of your nipples harshly as you moaned, desperate for more of his touch. Rhys continued to admire your body, kissing and sucking to leave marks all over your torso. You were writhing underneath him, dripping all over the table when you snapped, “gods, please just fuck me Rhys!” 

Rhys promptly stood up, arching an eyebrow at you with an expression of pure amusement. “Impatient, are we love? The fifteen minutes it took me to get to you was too much?” he cooed with fake sympathy as he towered over your form. “I won’t be gentle, darling,” he said, looking in your eyes as one hand idly stroked your hip. You found yourself feeling overheated despite the frigid temperature in the room, begging, “I don’t want gentle. I need you now, Rhys.”

“Well, who am I to deny my High Lady of her requests?” Rhys hummed as his clothes disappeared. He wasted no time lining himself up at your entrance. “Fuck, you’re dripping for me,” he  growled, swiping his free hand under his length to swipe your excess arousal from the table and sucking it into his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you, and something snapped inside of him. He moved both of his hands to your hips and pushed himself fully into you, immediately starting to pound at a relentless pace. The sounds of your collective moans and skin against skin echoed through the stone of the castle. “Fuck, harder Rhys,” you whined, wanting to have him as deep inside of you as possible. Wanting to be consumed by him. He grunted, flipping you over on your stomach so you were bent over the table, his hand wrapping your hair around one fist while he brought the other down to rub your clit. You reached your orgasm almost immediately as you screamed his name, clenching around his cock as he continued pounding into you. 

After a few moments, Rhys ground out that he was close to finishing. You felt him twitch inside of you just as the glass table cracked beneath you and split in two. Rhys quickly hauled you up by your chest before you could fall, slipping out of you as  his release spilled over your back. You both stood in silent shock for a moment before you turned to look at Rhys, and both of you burst out laughing. 

Running a hand through his hair and chuckling, Rhys consoled, “well, that table was older than I am. I guess it’s time we redecorated.” You gave him a mischievous smile as you leaned up to kiss his cheek and said, “maybe something more sturdy to fuck on next time.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #rhys smut #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader smut #rhysand imagine #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #rhys x f!reader #rhysand x reader smut #acotar kinktober #kinktober #rhysand smut #rhysand acotar

[thelampisaflashlight]

Some ghoul headcanons, because it was rainy and cold today and I had too much time to think. Let's go.

-Dew has stomach issues, and has to watch what he eats or else he can make himself sick, but sometimes he's really stubborn about wanting to eat something he shouldn't, and that usually results in a trip to the infirmary.

The list of what Dew can't eat is an ever expanding one, and while there's nothing on there that could actually kill him, there are some things that just aren't worth the tears; The infirmary staff's nor Dew's.

The biggest culprit of Dew's late night trips to the infirmary though, and the number one, "Dew, you REALLY shouldn't eat this-" food is cheese, or anything dairy related really, because it upsets his stomach worse than even some spicy foods, but the problem is; He loves it.

It's very hard for anyone to deny him cheese though, because the last time Swiss made burgers for everyone, he put cheese on everyone's except for his and Dew got the saddest, wettest look in his eyes about it.

Hell, Swiss almost cried, too.

Dew would like to think it was worth being constipated, really.

-There's a ghoul that lives somewhere on the abbey's grounds that no one can place the origins or name of, but no one has ever fully seen them, and any pictures taken of them come out... wrong.

It often lurks behind pillars, just out of view in doorways, and peeking out through gaps in stairwells.

Oftentimes, those who do view the creature fall ill not long afterwards, and not just the human members of the clergy, the ghouls become sick, too.

No one is sure why this happens, if the ghoul is actually to blame for it, or if the ghoul is really a ghoul but one thing remains certain; Seeing an almost indistinguishable beast out of the corner of your eye is scary as Hell, and no one wants to think about what would happen if it ever caught up to someone.

And lastly;

-When a ghoul is summoned/created, their magic is deliberately capped in order to prevent them from using it to do harm, the exception to this is quintessence, which is why these ghouls are so rare; The church can't contain their magic, and that means they're a threat, friendly or not, but no one has found a way to lock down their magic, because every time they try, the ghoul they're testing it on is just so... persuasive.

Really though, they're harmless, there's no need for such unnecessary precautions and... Yeahhh.

The ghouls are using their magic to prevent losing their magic.

#lamp rambles #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons

[shuunnico]

You like rpgs. Do you recommend any games like baldurs gate 3?

Absolutely. I'll assume you mean CRPGs and not RPGs in general.

Computer Roleplaying Games (CRPGs) refers to a style and genre of game that BG3 follows. Some have started calling CRPGs "Classic RPGs" instead. CRPGs are typically identified by an isometric, top down view style, a heavy focus on story and exploration.

I'm going to split my list it three main categories based on accessibility factors. These factors include the amount of reading involved, the depth of mechanics and the level of abstraction/math required.

Easy Entry Level

Baldur's Gate 3 - 2023 - Larian Studios. The current gold star for easy entry CRPGs. Exceptional graphics, every character voice acted, very little reading and fairly straightforward mechanics and concepts.

Divinity: Original Sin 2 DE- 2017 - Larian Studios. This is basically a less polished, more complex version of BG3 and made by the same studio.

Disco Elysium, Final Cut - 2019 - ZA/UM. Disco Elysium is a detective/social focus game that dives into heavy narrative concepts. Failing rolls is just as viable for the story as succeeding them, making the game's mechanics take a backseat to story. However, there is a lot of reading and that may be a barrier to entry.

Tyranny - 2016 - Obsidian Entertainment. A game about being evil, it's mechanically pretty simple, but there's a fair bit of jank due to it's low budget, and the game ends on a cliffhanger, but it's story is very solid.

Mid Entry Level

Wasteland 3 - 2020 - inExile Entertainment. The long awaited third installment of the Wasteland franchise and significantly less complex than its predecessors. Post apocalyptic, frozen Colorado, grim reality and goofy ideas. This is the franchise that originally inspired Fallout.

Shadowrun: Dragonfall DC/ Shadowrun: Hong Kong EE - 2014/2015 - Harebrained Schemes. Set in the Fantasy/Cyberpunk hybrid setting of Shadowrun. Fair bit of reading, but the game's mechanics are relatively easy to grasp and don't require a lot of math. Always play Dragonfall before Hong Kong.

Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire - 2018 - Obsidian Entertainment. A unique setting, exploring a fictional parallel to the age of piracy. Very wordy (but a lot is voice acted), with a lot of world building, but well worth engaging with. The first game, Pillars of Eternity, is less accessible, but still good.

Kingmaker/Wrath of the Righteous/Rogue Trader - 2020/2022/2023 - Owlcat Games. Owlcat adapts existing systems into CRPGs, like how BG3 is an adaption of DnD 5e. Do not be fooled, these games are where you start hitting a lot of complexity, a lot of math and a lot potential to damage your playthroughs by accident. This is where things start to get difficult.

Difficult Entry Level

Baldur's Gate 1/2 - Bioware - 1998/2000. The prequels to BG3, these games use an older, much more complex version of DnD's rules. Be prepared for a lot of reading and complex mechanics, but you'll be rewarded with some amazing storytelling.

Planescape Torment - Interplay - 1999. Another game using DnD's older mechanics, Planescape is a completely different beast from BG3. Many consider this series mechanically inferior to the Baldur's Gate franchise, but with better storytelling and world building to compensate.

Fallout 1/2 - 1997/1998 - Interplay/Black Isle. One of the most widely known game franchises started as an isometric CRPG. Universally considered more complex, rewarding and deeper than the Bethesda portion of the franchise, you'll need some experience to get into them, but you'll be happy you did.

Games I haven't played but I've heard good things of:

Wasteland 2, DC - 2015 - inExile

Torment: Tides Of Numenera - 2017 - inExile

Neverwinter Nights - 2002 - Bioware

Arcanum - 2001 - Troika Games

Ultima 7 Part 1/Part 2 - 1992/1993 - Origin Systems

Icewind Dale - 2000 - Black Isle Studio

#Baldur's Gate 3 #Disco Elysium #DnD #Fallout #Rogue Trader #Warhammer 40k #Pathfinder #Baldur's Gate #Planescape #Bioware #pillars of eternity

[cm-lily]

I read a fanfic once, I forgot which one. But in that fic, they have this idea where Gem and Grian's base has this... Foggy vibe to it. Like compare it to the cherry mountain that's all pink and petals and then you have these two bases which are straight up The Horrors™

I Just love that idea

So much I've been thinking, what if the whole Magic Mountain is surrounded by fog? A magic fog and mist that just always surround the area and got thicker as the sun set further. The area always seems cloudy. As if there is an eternal cloud forever covering the mountains. It's either raining, or storm, or cloudy. The only time it's clear is when Grian finally got his mending book, the pink snail arrive, and it switch to storm when Scar got the mending book. (He got struck by lightning a few time if he reaches that area)

Joel's base not only has lantern illuminating it, but souls as well. They didn't stay idle, but never went too far. Some of them even transform, Into tanuki or fox or wolves and even Koi fish and Axolotl. That fly in the air instead of water, obviously.

Sometimes there's things passing by on Impulse's build. Something tall and slender, with long limbs and sharp claws. They're not Enderman, Enderman don't crawl. Impulse said they're cool if you pretend they didn't exist and just let them... Lurks around.

Something is wrong with Mumbo's base. I want to call it decaying, but it's not. It's more like redstone veins appear around the blackened grass, the air smells like gunpowder and something acid. Or maybe copper.

Many hermits had reported seeing the sight of a statue angel that just appear on top of Skizz's unfinished Pyramid. It appear when they're looking at it, but then they look around and it's gone. The statue has never been in the same position everytime someone look at it.

Most people don't like going to Scar's base at night, not only because of how creepy it look like surrounded by those fog. Like the rest of them, something strange always happens. Like animals looking bigger and more beast-like the moment night arrive, ever seen a cow just grows multiple horns and it sounds like those horn are breaking out of it's skull? Or that one time, one time his horse stand up on two feet? Probably not. Scar said they're harmless. Except for the snail—he said. The snail isn't his. That's why they damaged his build and become a nuisance.

(There was once a time, a time where clouds whirled around his ore pillar, clouds that are made of limbs and hand and eyes and it just stretched and climb down from the pillar. It never reach the ground, fortunately.)

Grian never stopped fishing. Even if it rains or stormed outside. He's smelly and that's why snails like him and his horse don't. Totally not because Pluto saw him turn into giant mer-man with many eyes and tails and sharp tooth. Definitely not. Don't feel weird when you feel like you're being watched. Or because shadow-like silhouette wander around his wheat farm, or a silhouette of something massive that was illuminated everytime lightning strikes, looking down from the cherry mountain toward his and Gem's base and, occasionally, you felt like you found a body you recognize in the water—

And that's where Gem comes in! Gem is someone who stopped you before you decide to jump in the water and check who's that corpse is. And the one who shooed off the many eyes that lurk in the muddy river side of Grian's base. Grian hates her for that but there's nothing he can do. Gem, like Grian, is someone who can walk in the middle of the storm unharmed. Most of the time, she make sure that none of the hermits fell into the trick of her other neighbors.

just don't let that distract you from the fact one of her build is actually sentient and breathing and is always staring at you. Or the fact there's blood around the rocky shores if you squint into the dark river/soon-to-be-ocean. Or the fact that, just like the angler, the skull always felt like it's watching even if there's no actually eyes in it's socket. Gem is always present when you want to have a tour or just so happened to passed that area, but... If she's not there to guide you, would it even be worth it to be stabbed with a trident and got dragged into the water?

#cm think #hc s10 #the magic mountain #grian #geminitay #joel smallishbeans #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #skizzleman #Let's add some Horrors to these silly minecrafter tehe #Yes I've been watching too much TMA/TMP and my yt shorts is filled with Doctor Who clip

[asliceofzosan]

in which Luffy watches as his first mate grows fonder and fonder of their new cook. (and vice versa)

part three of the rice ball series

People have a lot of assumptions on what a captain is and should be. The man who makes the tough calls, the one who puts his crew over himself, the guy who should know his ship like the back of his hand.

But Luffy isn't really any of that.

He doesn't really like making decisions. Heck, the only definitive thing he's ever laid out is his preference for meat. Also, he can admit to be selfish a lot of the time. Even if his crew don't want to scope out a new island for adventure, he's already diving headfirst into the maw of a sea beast just to see if it tastes good. (The conclusion is that as long as Sanji cooks it, anything can taste good.) And he loves the Going Merry, he does. It's just he will get confused on what to do with a rudder or which way is starboard.

But he's come to learn that his crew didn't join him because he was like all the other captains. He's impulsive, gets distracted easily, and runs his mouth when words don't need to be said. However, when he is in need of help, his crew is there by his side. He doesn't need to say anything at all because he knows his crew has his back.

And he's learned that it's because he knows them. Even if it seems like he gets bored or uninterested, Luffy stores the knowledge of what makes his crew tick in a makeshift treasure chest up in his brain. He understands them in ways no other captain could. Luffy likes to think he's gotten really good at reading them after that revelation.

Like Zoro, for example.

Zoro likes to pretend that he doesn't care about other people's feelings.

Luffy knows better, however. Luffy knows that out of everyone else on this crew, Zoro cares the most. He stands as a pillar of stability and strength because he now has something to fight for. Something he has to protect. To be the greatest swordsman is inexplicably linked with keeping his crew safe.

In keeping them safe, he considers their wants and fears. He calculates the best moves not just to keep them out of harm's way but to make sure they don't feel like a burden on his behalf. He takes out the big guns but leaves the bigger guns to his captain. He provides a path for Nami or Ussop to land hits and it never feels like hand outs or small fries to them. The triumph in defeating enemies together rather than just slicing them all up before anyone else gets a hand on them is something Zoro takes the most pride in.

So Zoro cares. He cares so deeply about the welfare of his crew that he'd rather die than lose them. However, the subtlety of it all is what passes over everyone's heads.

Except Luffy's.

It's really funny when one thinks about it too much. Zoro pretending he doesn't care, covering it all up with grunts and eye rolls, while always being the first one to someone's side when they're injured. Or being the guy who looms dangerously behind his crew when they're on an innocent stroll. Luffy can't help but watch him carefully, wondering if something could make Zoro knock down his translucent walls.

Luffy is the first to notice that it's not something. It's someone.

That someone happens to be Sanji, the cook Zoro dragged over to them at the Baratie. Even in the midst of stealing the rice balls Zoro brought, Luffy saw something different between them. Like a shift in direction out at sea. Zoro's sails commandeered by the winds of nicotine blown past the lips of a particularly handsome waiter. Who, Luffy might add, would stare at Zoro in an intense way that is both as subtle and as obvious to anyone who looked at the two of them long enough.

He doesn't know much about romance. It's not like he knew his parents. His grandpa certainly didn't keep a partner either. But what Luffy lacked in general knowledge or experience, he more than made up for in intuition.

The minute shift in the air is evident to him after weeks of observation. Sometimes it would go way over his head. Other times, it's clear as day. Sanji would say something to tease Zoro. Zoro would bite back with insults of his own.

Then Sanji would laugh, amused or delighted, and Zoro would stare at him like his whole world stopped.

It's both a thrilling spectacle and a slow motion trainwreck waiting to fly off the rails. It's entertaining to see Zoro's face get all red and his mouth to start sputtering random nonsense before he stalks off to train. It's doubly entertaining when the source of that reaction just leans against the railing, equally intrigued by the results of his mischief, blowing a cloud of smoke above his head with a fond chuckle.

When Zoro brought Sanji to him, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Nami had to spell it out to him that Sanji was the waiter who flirted with her. At the time, and to Luffy, he was a cool kicky guy who brought him meat and milk. He was an awesome fighter. Luffy thought that Zoro brought him so that he could have a sparring partner.

"Luffy, we need a cook right?" Zoro not so subtly dragged Sanji to be beside him, a firm grip on the man's wrist like it belonged there. "What about him?"

"I would have loved to be informed of what your intentions were when you said I should meet your captain," Sanji said with narrowed eyes. "Here I thought you just wanted us to be friends."

"We could be friends!" Luffy chimed in, lighting up at the prospect of adding a new crew mate who could cook. "And I saw you fight earlier – that was really cool! You went all wapow and baaamm!"

Luffy did a poor imitation of Sanji's kicking moves in the booth, almost accidentally hitting Ussop in the process. An amused grin spread on Sanji's face as quickly as it disappeared a split second later. He continued to glare at Zoro, who hasn't let go of him at all. Luffy glanced at it but said nothing.

"I told you, I'm staying here–"

"Didn't sound like you wanted to five minutes ago."

"We're not even crew mates yet and you're already this irritating!"

"Yet. You're considering it then?"

"H-Hey, you're putting words into my mouth!"

"Just tell him."

"Tell him what–"

It was like watching a sport seeing them go back and forth. In the span of their argument, Luffy already stole six handfuls of nuts from the nearby table. But the last sentence from Sanji faded into a murmur, one that made Zoro step closer to him, lean in and whisper in his ear.

The faint blush that colored Sanji's cheeks was interesting. Luffy wondered what Zoro said. But it was enough for Sanji to consider his words for a minute before he turned to look at Luffy with an unreadable expression.

Then he opened his mouth and said,

"Have you heard about the All Blue?"

Between then and now, it was clear to Luffy that Zoro saw in Sanji what Luffy saw in Zoro back in Shells Town. A dream still unrealized but not impossible to achieve. A fierce loyalty to both staying true to oneself and to the people who care for you. Zoro saw it fit that their little crew is where Sanji belonged. Where he would flourish.

Zoro recruiting Sanji to the Straw Hats was definitive proof that he cared so much more than he let on. And Luffy knows that.

Then of course, there was Sanji.

He openly shows his affection to everyone. Nami gets a princess treatment with him waiting on her hand and foot. Ussop gets a willing audience whenever he launches into another one of his stories. Luffy even gets kisses into his curls when they all get excited. Sanji was the type to wear his whole heart on his sleeve and showed it in different ways.

For Zoro, it's really no different. The execution just includes varying petty nicknames, sparring, and teasing that makes Zoro shake with intense repressed emotion. But of course, Sanji would show it through the way he knows best... by cooking.

Specifically in the form of Zoro's favorite food.

Sanji likes to create his weekly menu based on the crew's food preferences. The main course would be someone's favorite one way or the other. Luffy loves it the most when the main course is meat. But Sanji keeps it interesting and switches it up every now and then. Though there's always going to be a dish that has meat so that Luffy wouldn't complain to high heavens about it.

And there would always be at least one rice ball for Zoro.

Zoro never asks for it. He could eat anything. But when Sanji would slide a plate of rice balls wordlessly across the table to him, slapping Luffy's hand away without even looking, the quick glance Zoro gives Sanji contained words that were better left unsaid at the dinner table. Well. Better to Zoro. Luffy knows he'd wax poetic if he could find the words fast enough.

Instead, he just reaches over and savors every bite. His entire plate would be licked clean yet he'd still have room for a rice ball Sanji made special for him.

Then, Zoro would wordlessly help Sanji with the dishes, growling half-heartedly at the blonde cook's witty quips. The way Sanji would steal glances at the swordsman is an occurrence so frequent that it's really funny that Luffy is the one who notices over Zoro.

Then again... It's also not much of a surprise. Zoro purposefully refuses to notice things sometimes. Like how Sanji would let their fingers brush against each other every time he passes a plate to him. Or how Sanji would grip Zoro's bicep if something makes him laugh so hard he cries.

Whether he chooses to ignore it or not, Luffy sees Zoro visibly relax when Sanji is beside him in a fight. He sees how each time he picks a fight, it's to have an excuse to rile up Sanji until he's red in the face. He sees how he's taken up dishwashing duties because that's how he properly started to know Sanji and he relishes in the routine of it.

Romance is infinitely confusing to Luffy most of the time. But he knows what loving someone looks like regardless.

"Luffy, you got a minute?" Sanji asks one day, poking his head out of the galley door. "I need a taste tester."

"You trust me not to eat it all?" Luffy bounds up to the galley anyway all excited.

"No," is Sanji's immediate response. Luffy pouts. "I just can't ask mosshead to do it for me."

"Eh? Why not?"

Zoro had become Sanji's unspoken taste tester since he joined the crew. Luffy didn't really need much convincing – food is food, cooked or raw. Zoro's palate isn't refined either but Sanji would always gravitate towards the swordsman for a second opinion no matter what kind of dish it was.

So when Sanji seeks out his captain instead of Zoro, it's something to note. Luffy tilts his head at him as he ladles a bowl of some sort of soup and slides it in front of him. Luffy leans down to smell it and it's a beautiful assault of fresh herbs from the last island and the mouthwatering smell of a variety of meats and veggies. There was also a bed of hand pulled noodles holding up the different toppings, including a perfectly jammy soft-boiled egg.

"I'm trying out a new recipe," Sanji starts to explain, shoving his hands into his pockets. "From a fellow cook back at the Baratie who hailed from Shimotsuki Village."

Luffy hummed, having no idea where that is. But he pretends to know. He thinks he's good at that.

"You don't know where that is, do you?"

Damn... he thought he was good at this.

"Nope," He confesses, popping the p. "Should I know it?"

Sanji just stares at him for a few seconds before sighing. "It's where Zoro's from."

Oh. Oh. Now this makes sense. Immediately, Luffy remembers a conversation he overheard between Nami and Zoro the other day about how he misses the noodle soup he used to have at the dojo. So, with a bright smile, he just shakes his head and pushes it gently back to Sanji.

"He'll like it," Luffy says without even taking a sip of the soup. A first for him to refuse food. It's significant enough for Sanji to take notice and he's about to say something else before Luffy puts a hand up. "I know Zoro. He'll like it."

Sanji blinks several times, his eyebrows furrowed, and Luffy expects he's gonna argue again. So he lets out a big whine and slams his head on the counter.

"Sanjiiiii!" He groans with a pout. "I'm hungryyyyyy!"

"There is soup right–" Sanji starts to say but then stops himself when Luffy just continues to whine. He stays silent for a while, just staring at his captain, until a resigned sigh leaves his lips.

"Wait out on the deck, I'll bring you your snack."

The smile Luffy had on his face was no less mischievous than his usual, so he just thanks Sanji and catapults himself out of the galley.

After dinner, Luffy overhears Zoro ask Sanji where he learned how to make the soup. Sanji pretends he did it because he was curious. A bickering match ensues, but there is the ghost of a smile on Zoro's lips all throughout.

"It hit the spot, cook." Zoro says after the futile bickering dies down. Then he bumps their shoulders together as a wordless thank you. Sanji's face glows with pride as he watches Zoro walk away from him, the swordsman's satisfied smile lingering on his lips.

And the smile on Luffy's face is ever present.

A/N: Hello, everyone! This is the last Main installment of the dirty rice ball series. I might cross-post it to AO3 eventually. Thank you so much to those who gave a lot of love to the first two parts! I'm still learning as I go with zosan and I'm so happy with all the support 🥹 I might do some smaller ficlets within the series since it's become it's own alternate opla universe. The dynamics have shifted a bit with the knowledge that Sanji is already in love with Zoro due to Shells Town. So it would be so fun to explore it more! Let me know if you have suggestions or prompts for the rice ball verse ^_^

#niki's fics: a captain's intuition #one piece #sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan #opla #one piece live action #monkey d luffy #fic series: it all started with a dirty rice ball #roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji #zoro x sanji

[dark-frosted-heart]

Book of Memories ~ Chevalier and Licht ~

Card story

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

While taking a walk around court, I noticed that the training hall was unusually lively.

My instincts screamed that things were getting oddly heated and my curiosity made me go over to check it out—

I came across a suspicious figure hiding behind a pillar near the entrance, peering in.

Emma: Prince Licht, what are you doing here?

Licht: Shh.

With a single glance, Prince Licht gestures for me to hide.

When I obediently lined up beside him, his garnet eyes returned to the training hall.

Licht: If you’re here to watch, it’s better if you don’t get caught. Because he might charge you an observation fee later.

(What’s happening inside…?)

Like Licht, I peeked inside.

The large space was filled with knights belonging to the foreign affairs faction.

In the center was not Nokto, Clavis, or Luke, but Prince Chevalier.

The crowd watched as Prince Chevalier swung his sword against a knight.

The heat in his eyes was so intense that even I could feel it from the outside.

Emma: I’ve had the chance to observe some of the foreign affairs faction’s training sessions… I feel like it’s rare to see Prince Chevalier here.

Licht: Normally, this is either the head knight’s or Clavis’ job. But on rare occasions, Chevalier will take part.

Emma: To exercise?

Licht: No, I think it’s to boost morale. Chevalier’s the strongest knight on the battlefield, so all soldiers admire him. In fact, knights from the foreign affairs faction often assemble here for Chevalier. While many fear the brutal beast, his exceptional strength maintains high morale. It’s a different kind of charisma from Leon’s.

(...I’ve never seen Licht be this talkative)

As he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on Prince Chevalier.

Emma: …Do you admire him too, Prince Licht?

Licht: …

Emma: You do, don’t you?

Licht: Stop grinning.

Emma: I’m calm.

Licht: …You could say that.

Emma: By the way, may I ask what you admire about him?

Licht: Why?

Emma: I’d like to use this as reference when choosing a king as Belle.

Licht: … ..As you can see, every one of Chevalier’s movements with his sword is calculated. Not a single pointless movement, no hesitation, and no gaps.

His swordsmanship itself is a national treasure-level work of art.

(Certainly…Even the untrained eye can see that Prince Chevalier’s swordsmanship is beautiful)

(Rather than a technique for killing, it’s a martial art that captivates people)

Licht: Only Chevalier, or perhaps the legendary Knight of Roses in the past, can draw such refined swordsmanship. It’s not the sort of thing that comes from hard work or anything like that.

It’s natural talent.

Emma: But aren’t you similar, Prince Licht?

Licht: …How so?

Emma: I don’t know how to explain it, but…the swordsmanship, footwork… Look, I’ve also observed the domestic affairs faction’s training. For some reason, I feel as if you’re making similar movements.

Licht: That’s because… I’m imitating him.

Emma: Imitating?

Prince Licht sighed in resignation after a moment of hesitation. 

Licht: I saw it by chance, a long time ago. In the training hall at midnight, I saw Chevalier swinging his sword…

~~ Flashback ~~

Licht: …

The scene was like stepping into a world of art painted by a master artist.

Every time the blond-haired, blue-eyed young man swung his silver sword, it drew a line in the empty air.

The repeated swings drew beautiful, overlapping arcs with ease, leaving afterimages.

That was when a younger boy first learned the true meaning of “art”.

Chevalier: What do you want, shut-in?

Licht: …That was how I was a few years ago

Chevalier: You’re not that different now.

Licht: I’m…fine with swords now.

Chevalier: You seem to be avoiding people.

Licht: …

Chevalier: If you have nothing to say then get out of my way. Leave.

Licht: …No. Just let me stay for a little longer. I’ll be quiet.

Chevalier: Your staring is annoying.

Licht: Then I’ll close my eyes too.

Chevalier: …

Licht: Hey…

Chevalier: Aren’t you supposed to stay quiet?

Licht: I just want to ask you a question.

How can I become as skilled with a sword as you, brother?

Chevalier: Don’t ask worthless questions. No one swings a sword for the sake of improvement.

Licht: Then, for what reason?

Chevalier: For a good cause. On the battlefield, the weak die and only the strong survive. If you can’t handle a sword, you won’t accomplish anything.

Licht: What’s your cause?

Chevalier: What a foolish question.

Licht: …To protect the country?

Chevalier: …

Licht: I see… I never thought about that.

Chevalier: Of course you haven’t. You’re narrow-minded. This is a problem to address before skill.

Licht: …

Chevalier: If you’re also royalty then think on it. What do you want to accomplish next, now that you can keep yourself from killing your other half.

Licht: …

Chevalier: Then we’ll continue this discussion.

~~ Flashback ends ~~

Licht: —I’ve been thinking about that ever since. I’ve always been watching Chevalier’s sword like this.

Emma: Prince Licht…

Licht: That’s why I think the only similarity is movement.

But actually, it’s not the same at all, just an imitation… But, yeah…That’s why they look similar in your eyes.

Those garnet eyes shrouded in darkness seemed to soften a little.

Emma: You look a little happy.

Licht: I admire him…Is that bad?

???: It seems the domestic affairs faction has plenty of free time.

Emma and Licht: ?!

Suddenly, a chilling voice rings out and we turn our heads at the same time.

At the entrance of the training hall stood Prince Chevalier with his arms folded and not even out of breath.

(We got too caught up in our conversation!)

Chevalier: You outsiders are in the way. Leave.

Licht: Come on, just a little more.

It seemed like Prince Licht became defiant, stepping out from behind the pillar and brazenly confronting Prince Chevalier.

Licht: Let her watch. Emma wants to see.

Emma: Prince Licht, too, right?

Licht: I’m escorting…

Emma: Ah, you sneak.

Chevalier: I don’t care. But if you don’t want to be kicked out—

Icy blue eyes turned to the knights standing in line, led by a red-haired knight.

Chevalier: You’ll have to go against them and win.

Licht: Easy…

Prince Licht drew his sword and headed toward the center of the training hall without a moment of hesitation.

I felt the foreign affairs faction’s knight’s enthusiasm rise.

Emma: Prince Licht’s also very popular.

Chevalier: …

Emma: …He says he admires you, Prince Chevalier.

Chevalier: What nonsense. To think so highly of me… Beautiful swordsmanship means you don’t hesitate to kill. My swordsmanship is not human. If he does not want to become a beast, then stop imitating me.

(...This is what Prince Chevalier thinks)

Prince Chevalier leaned against the wall and began to watch Prince Licht swing his sword against a knight.

I stood beside him and followed his movements, which were as refined as a sword dance. 

Chevalier: In that sense, I don’t believe Mime will ever catch up to me. It’s too much of a “waste”.

Emma: That sounds like a compliment…

Chevalier: …

Emma: By the way, I heard something from a maid. In the castle, there’s this debate about who among you, Prince Leon, and Prince Licht is the best swordsman.

Chevalier: A pointless discussion.

Emma: It’s you, isn’t it?

Chevalier: No, the one who serves the greatest cause is the strongest.

Emma: I see…

Chevalier: If that one finds a cause, he will become better than he is now.

(Prince Licht respects Prince Chevalier, but…)

(It seems as if Prince Chevalier expects a lot from Prince Licht)

Emma: Are you looking forward to that day?

When I asked that probing question, he just laughed scornfully like usual.

(Thought so…)

(I’ll let Prince Licht know first thing when he comes back)

(No doubt he’ll be really pleased)

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikepri spoilers

[blimgus]

Okay since i don't have any funny arts ready yet i would want to rant a little about whb.

First of all, I kinda found out that there is a visible pattern connecting the affiliation to the diffrent parts of Hell of the demons and their types of roles in the battle:

Gehenna- we have typical long range marksmen with Astaroth, Leraye, Paimon and Belial using rifles and Satan and Ppyong using some sort of bazookas(?) The only exception from this rule is Sitri with his Iron Maiden, but that is explained by him being away studying in Hades (correct me if im wrong)

Hades - we have our beloved coffin summoners here as medium range marksmen. Leviathan,Barbietoes, Glasya, Foras and Orias are all coffin users and summoning beasts seeems to be unique to the demons of Hades( God I have to read the orias event bc i forgor to)

Tartaros - Classic defense characters aka tanks. Lower power more health,shielding,becoming invincible for a while, some characters have stalling if i remember??? Every characters design here mostly follows these rules, even though the have diffrent weapons yknow Bimet has the skulls, Valefor a sword and shield, Mammon has the pillars and hands, and eligos has uhmmmmmm

His cuteness. Ok next

Avisos- well here it starts to get interesting. I belive that the demons here are close-ranged attackers? Amon, Nabe and Stolas have their little weapon arsenals and Bael and Bell have their whips However some characters have a really big range for close range attackers ( bloodshed bell) so im not entirely sure about that

Abaddon- Phenix, Dantalian and Ronovè are all close range attackers, but their main role in game is supporting/buffing other characters (ronove/phenix combo carried me through most of main story). I guess we can assume that Asmodeus (bro i cant wait for him in game im gonna become his biggest simp) will have a simmilar role as a buffer/support.What if prettybusy makes him like the equivalence of Bennett from Genshin??

Nilfheim- the most problematic when it came to assigning the certain role until i looked up the characters. Both Gusion and Andrealphus can stun the enemies with their attacks, while Bathin can decrease the speed of enemies.That makes the Nilfheim crew being debuffers,stunners (if I remember mammon can also stun the enemies with his ult?? But he seems to be the only non-nilfheim character to do that)

Paradise Lost- healers my beloved... Buer, Morax and Marbas are all healers so Lucifer will most likely be one too. Gamigin also can revive a character, which is absolutely great when you try to keep your lower levelled characters alive. Really solid characters, i love using them in battle.

I really like that PB made each role in battle unique to residents of specific countries of Hell

Welp thats all for now, next time im making a little rant about the whole hell and the New event

Bye for now!

-cinnamon

#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #what in hell is bad #whb #whb beelzebub #whb andrealphus #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb lucifer #blimgus rant

[r0-boat]

I saw request are open? I was wondering if I could request Volo x Reader but there's somehow a last bastion of Celestica people and they believe the reader to be their god/goddess/deity and Arceus' "master". Would Volo be resentful? Fall further in love?

Wether you take this request into account or not, I hope you're having a nice day c:

I can honestly see Volo being resentful. I actually feel like the opposite might be true at first.

Cw: Slight yandere behavior.

Volo Celestica worshiped reader

Arceus abandon him as hate festered for in his heart from the god he once worshiped forsaking him. And as Insanity gnaw at his brain. It almost seems like he feels almost entitled to have you, even if they were to possess us some kind of trophy to mock the god that abandoned him.

It wouldn't be surprising if Volo at that time grew a little crush on you. Your benevolence warmed the hearts of the coldest souls. Your power to command Arceus' creations and your courageousness could rival the Gods themselves and, at the same time, being as gentle and delicate as a flower treating the beasts that should bow to you as companions.

That devotion, and tiny crush on you has all but vanished. He just thinks that you should be worshiping him. He would be a far better God and a far better master.

Every night his dreams are plagued by images of you at his feet. Sparkling gold and pure white silk dressing the both of you. Your new God sitting on his throne as he offers his hand for you to kiss.

He hates that Arceus favors you so. And he hates that you will not worship Him as your master.

However he feels a new feeling, a bitter jealousy that burns just as bright. When he noticed the Celestica people who was never too fond of Outsiders begin to pine for your attention .Celestics thought your praise and attention was as though your master themselves was praising them; it was annoying. Even though Volo was no exception, being hungrier for your gaze than his fellow celestica. From that jealousy stemmed thoughts he had never had before.

In some twisted away, he thought of himself as your first follower and most devoted. Now, seeing your attention quickly stolen from people who had just known of your existence hurt. A feeling of dreaded Deja Vu washing over him the feeling of being discarded. This was the worship he wanted, now here you are, stealing it once again. At the same time, noticing how the men and women around your age stealing glances at you and giving you gifts made his blood boil. He isn't sure whether it's the fact that you were just an outsider or the fact that these people do not deserve your attention.

Whatever it may be he can agree on one thing. He liked it better when the celestics didn't know you existed.

This may reignite an old fire that had been put out since spear pillar.

#pokemon volo #volo x reader #pla volo #suggestive #Yandere #Pokemon volo x reader #pokemon headcannons

[nocaptainonthisship]

honey

Bear Shifter!Price/Reader

(coming to an ao3 near you as soon as I finish writing the damn thing.)

It frightened you, that first winter all those years ago, waking beneath warm, immovable mass of unknown provenance. You could not understand then all the things you now know to be true. They were nothing but myth. Imagination. A collective fantasy undertaken by society in its entirety when confronted with that which the mind could not yet understand. These stories didn’t walk among you like men did, these beasts and brutes did not hide in a crowd. 

They did not take pretty maidens back to their dens for debauching. 

Until he did. Except he wasn’t a beast and only sometimes a brute, and he didn’t drag you anywhere. No, you came willingly to John Price’s bed, even if you didn’t understand the implications of a crisp fall day, of orange leaves littering the yard, of blackout curtains on every window and a pantry full of supplies. 

No, the first time you had woken like this you had been afraid, your brain sluggish and syrupy as molasses. Sleep felt like the only true thing left to be desired. Desire felt like a prison. It went to war with the confusion inside you as you struggled to open your eyes, to get your bearings, too understand just how much time had passed that you felt as though you were waking from a long coma and not a post-coital nap. To rest wasn’t just desire, it was imperative, a matter of life or death as grave as the matter of discovering what had happened to you. 

You had opened your eyes to find a gray dawn, a bedroom where you recognized the shadows if not the specifics. That warmth that cradled you shifted and rumbled as if sensing that sleep had lost this battle. As if he was preparing to go to war. There was a hand which spanned almost the width of your ribcage, nestled under your breasts. It pulled you closer until all you were aware of feeling was skin against skin.

“Honey,” didn’t sound so sweet, whispered in your ear. It sounded like the boulders of your former life tumbling down the sides of the old quarry. It sounded like an oath, fealty wrapped around you like a fur coat. It was almost enough to lull you into complacency. 

What you didn’t know then, but you know now, is that, “Honey,” never was a term of endearment. It was a demand. It was an order just as much as the ones he barked at his men in the field. Looking back, you wonder if he had not yet realized what kind of holy bond tied you together. It was instinctual. 

Taking you out to dinner, taking you back to his home, taking you to his bed, taking and taking and taking until you were empty and ready to be filled with a version of yourself you had not met yet. All the things you had learned, all the versions of you that you had been were built on foundations of sand. Who you were told to be, who you were taught to be, who you were afraid to be. All flimsy under the weight of him. All vanished, and leaving behind only instinct. Only honey, warm and golden and thicker than your thoughts. 

Instinct, over and beyond reason. 

You know now what it all signifies. The cold grey dawn peaking behind curtains which you had neglected to fully close, the warmth which caressed you and dragged you back to the shores of slumbering. You know now that the hands which grip you tighter as you wiggle are not the hands of merely another hopeless lover. These hands are the hands of your mate, and he isn’t going to let go. 

When you’re awake enough, you like to tease him about the way he purrs. John will protest and grumble and say things like, “Not a damn cat, love.” There is no other comparison, though, to the way it rumbles through his chest, rattles its way into your bones, calms the place in the back of your brain which is consumed at every moment by the bond which you share. It’s the song of home, which settles inside your soul and wipes away its ragged edges. 

You had been something before him, a leader and a fighter and a pillar of your community. You had been more than the body which kept him sane through the months of sleep. You had also been deeply, desperately unhappy. Lost and adrift in a world which could never care how un-moored you were, you had harbored inside you a hunger which you feared would never be met. Not feared – known, in the way you knew your name or the skin of your hands. Before John, you had longed for him in a way which could not be spoken of, even if you wished. Before John, there was only this secret greed inside you, this desire to be taken away from the rules and regulations and repercussions of the world. To be reduced - or perhaps to be elevated - by the protection and the provision of a man who loved you. 

Held against him now, as he purrs against your back and his hand finds your hip, you do feel reduced. Its a return to your factory settings, a hard reboot, a knock on the head that makes you less of a woman. More of the beast and the brute. Maybe you were born to be his mate, and your body knew before your mind. Maybe you were remade, reformed, reforged in the image of him to become his perfect half rather than born as such. Maybe that piece of you had not existed until, seeing his face for the first time, it formed itself out of the ether of you and uttered, “Mine.”

#captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #bear shifter! price #john motherfucking price #in which cap finally caves and writes a bear shifter fic #obviously not a single word of this would exist without ceil and landscape with honey. obviously. it changed the game.

[batrogers]

If It Can Die, I Can Kill It

From my Feral Prompts, for @recalled11 Legend

Also on AO3, about 1200 words. Rated G, some injuries.

IIII

Feral 10: “If it can die, I can kill it” = Recalled Legend @ a Gleeok

Link could tell there was something more than just a storm under the cloud. He’d seen the flash, even if the thunder had been muted: it hadn’t been very strong, whatever it was, but it’d come soon after. Too soon. Ravio – seated between Malon and Fairy behind him – was watching him pace but not doing anything, not yet.

He wasn’t trying to worry him; he was fine. It was far away.

It was some-thing and it was moving.

When he turned at the next pace, Wild was there in his way, almost close enough he hit him. He restrained the urge – Wild was a bad choice to pick a fight with – and smiled unpleasantly instead. He waved one hand at the thing on the edge of their view.

“What is that, anyways?”

The other man had to spell it, six letters -- gleeok, then added, “It’s a thunder one, they’re not that hard.”

“It’s in our way.” He could tell that much already. They were on a road and that fucking thing was not that far off; they’d be getting closer to it every step of the way.

Wild nodded, and Link wasn’t fucking doing that.

“If its not that hard, we can kill it.”

Wild simply tilted his head and smiled. He gestured that way once more – almost as if to say, after you – and Link bared his teeth. “Can that flying thing of yours carry two?”

It could, and it did.

The gleeok noticed them in the sky. It took exception, as only a giant beast like it could. It was a massive kind of lizard, with three heads each with a fat, bulging eye under its shimmering gold horns. Wild kept moving even as one of the heads opened its mouth and spat a flash of lightning at them. Link’s heart nearly stopped in his chest, but Wild’s flying thing kept ahead with seeming ease. Link knelt and tucked a leg around Wild’s and over the standing platform to pull his bow from a ring.

There was always a target if something had eyes. Link clung to the machine with his legs and aimed.

His first arrow missed; his second, the dragon had snapped its wings forward and threw off the arrow’s aim; it grazed a different head than intended.

“Fuck it all, turn around!” Link snapped.

Wild tried. The flying machine did not turn quickly or easily, and Link dropped one hand to brace himself on the platform, trying not to knock Wild’s footing free with his awkward positioning himself. The turn meant he was facing the wrong way to aim easily again, and he twisted to aim back the way he came.

He turned, just in time to see it bunch in place and lunge.

“Wild!”

The machine’s engine cut. The fan under him went silent and they dropped from the air like a stone for a frozen second before it snapped back alive. The lizard’s gaping mouths went over their heads; the ground rushed up below and as the flying machine caught the air and slowed their fall again, a spear of lightning slammed into the front.

Green stone burst into nothing under his hands. Wild was thrown backwards, breaking his bow and tumbling into freefall, and Link hit the ground and rolled. His magic could take the teeth out of the fall, but he still came to, dazed and sore, several dozen feet away from the pieces of his bow.

Wild wasn’t in sight. Link’s throat choked, and he looked frantically for the other man. “Wild!”

He saw green, like his tunic, somewhere far – far too far away. How far had he been thrown? It wasn’t moving.

The air was thick with static, and green as soup and the gleeok slowly settled back on the high pillar of stone from which it had watched them before. It’s horns glittered with lightning.

Link licked his lips and checked the dot that was maybe Wild again. Far enough away.

Let’s see how this thing liked losings its footing too.

Quake was easy; the ground cracked and shivered, crumbling under the dragon’s claws. He tried to stand as the spell took, and realized his leg (the leg that had been between Wild’s feet on the flying machine...) was broken. He cursed at it and twisted it back into place before he drank a health potion to stop the screaming pain. As the gleeok staggered and collapsed in full, he stood and stalked to meet it. He didn’t need a bow; healed, he pulled his sword, snapping off three quick cuts.

Three beams, to each eye.

The creature slammed to the ground, stunned, and Link looked again at the still green.

Was that far enough away? Did he trust it?

The gleeok started to stir, and he realized he didn’t have much choice. This fight had to end now. (He was so damn tired of the constant storm, ever crackle in the air put his teeth grinding...)

But he had other spells, two more copper tokens. He wasn’t going to waste his time testing lightning against lightning: Fire rained harder than lightning ever could.

He put out each eye personally after that, before he dared walk away. Certain of its death, the stillness in the spot of green left him filled with terror greater than the dark skies could bring. As he came closer, and more sure it was Wild he ran to other man’s side.

When he arrived, he could see Wild had woken at least. The other man’s eyes rolled in his head, one hand dug into the dirt. The left eye – the damaged one – was shining, flashing brilliant blue light as he made a face before focusing on Legend. He half-smiled then and raised one arm, offering it to him.

Link took his hand, confused and watched him wince. Immediately he checked the forearm – fine – then upper arm – broken.

“You want me to set it?”

Wild nodded.

Easy enough. He could do it, although Wild hissed out something that could’ve been a swear. Seconds later, he grunted, his eye flashed, and he put weight on the arm and sat up. As he pulled himself together to stand, Link watched with morbid fascination. Every time he had to hesitate, that blue eye glowed again and he crouched himself.

“Are you just healing yourself as you go?”

Wild didn’t even look at him to nod.

“Sometimes I really wish I could do that.”

Wild paused, partway through checking his legs and looked at him. It was one of the darkest expressions he’d ever seen from the man – not the wild panic he sometimes showed around certain monsters, or determination. It was more like grief, and Link regretted saying that aloud.

He didn’t say anything else, but Link didn’t think he had to. It was plain as day what it meant.

‘No. You don’t.’

Link stood and looked back towards their camp. As he had expected, once his head cleared, he could already see a dark speck running and walking their way with two others behind. He sighed. Ravio was going to have so many words for him...

“Hey Wild, if its Ravio and Flower coming, who do you think is the third about to chew us out: Twilight or Captain?”

Bonus art:

This man absolutely did not set his own leg ten minutes ago, what are you talking about.

#Recalled AU #Link's Meet AU #my writing #not my AU though #Zelda fanfic #short fiction #(Look 1200 is short for me) #Gleeok fight #Gleeok #TOTK #TOTK setting #Recalled Wild #Recalled Legend

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

The Nine Houses

Worldbuilding/Lore

<< Previous: Masterpost

-

The Nine Houses refer to planets, named, presumably, in order of colonisation. I'm befuddled as to which one is which planet, if we're going on the assumption that this is the solar system. This is what I've extrapolated from reading:

First is Earth.

Second is most likely Mars - gathered from the fighting energy of its house, proximity to Earth and viability for terraforming, and also this:

"[...]Each Beast is different. I have fought numerous now, and each Beast is quite unlike any other … Number Two spewed quicksilver and remade itself into hundred-foot spikes. Number Six kept sucking us into enormous sphincters and spraying us with worms. I cannot even remember what it looked like. I remember Number Four … it was a humanoid creature with a beautiful face who held me under the water, and it spoke in a lovely voice but it only repeated, die, die—and I recall Number One as a great and incoherent machine … when I saw it I thought it had a great tail, and a thousand broken pillars on its back, but Cassiopeia saw it as a mechanical monster with swords for wings, and great horns of myelin, tessellated over with graves.” It was the Saint of Duty who said, restlessly: “Number Eight was a giant head.” “Finned like a fish,” said Augustine, lost in reverie. “Its ribs were bloody bandages, and its teeth protruded through its own skull, tangled about its face like a nest. It was red, and it had a single eye of green that moved all about the body …"

Metal-related appearance, from the planet notoriously rusty.

Actually, this passage describing the Resurrection Beasts - revenants of the planets - was the thing that got me into trying to assign planets to Houses based on, mostly, vibes.

Forth could be Venus, based on this passage alone. I could easily be wrong.

Sixth is Mercury I reckon. In the epilogue of HtN the setting is described as very hot - close to Dominicus. I reread it now and I don't think it's ever mentioned to be set on the Sixth, in fact parts of it actively contradict that assumption, but somehow I seem to have gotten that into my head anyway? But even so, Sixth is described as the one closest to Dominicus - notably this passage:

The Emperor dropped to his haunches and eased the white robe off Mercy’s dead shoulders. He shrugged his naked body into it—coyly pulling it closed—and he stretched his jaw in his mouth, and wriggled the tip of his newly grown nose. “Right,” he said, and closed his eyes briefly. Then he said, “The sun has stabilized. Hope the Sixth House didn’t get cooked in the flare.”

This to me pretty much confirmed the Sixth as Mercury.

Eighth, in the above passage about the Resurrection Beasts, is described in ways that immediately make me picture Jupiter. Red, a single eye of green moving all over the body? Ribs were bloody bandages? A "giant head" - Jupiter, in Roman mythology was the king of the gods? Am I way off the mark here?

And Ninth is Pluto, furthest from the sun, cold and desolate. And solid. (How are they pulling off living on gas giants?)

This leaves the Third, Fifth, Seventh houses to be matched with Saturn, Uranus and Neptune. At a loss, still, for how gas giants are supposed to be colonised. The general infrastructure of the pre- and post-resurrection world/Empire has me asking questions like, where do they get the materials to build starships and feed their officers? Metal and plastic seem abundant. In terms of food we've mostly seen snow leeks, Canaan House and the Mithraeum, all of which are probably exceptional to what a regular House person eats. There is some talk of John's expansion and colonising efforts, so do they just go to random planets - are there aliens in this universe? (Is Alecto one?) So the Empire is expanding, mining colonised planets for ore and oil to turn into plastic - though that would indicate a lot of life on a lot of these planets, so I'm gonna guess that whatever happens to those planets isn't kind to the native flora, fauna and people.

Of course, there's always the option that this isn't meant to be the planets at all, and even if it was, it might be a lot more metaphorical. Or just actually a completely different world to ours, not the solar system at all. (Though there's many explicit and implicit pop culture references which would indicate the First to truly be Earth, so we're sticking with this theory.)

Are they actually on the planets - we haven't seen any planets other than First, and Ninth, arguably big exceptions; the Epilogue seems to be set on a moon of some kind, after a more thorough reread. The Actual Planets are dead, or rather resurrected, with their revenants on the hunt. Could be that the Houses do stand for the planets, and some people might be living on (or near) the actual planets, but a lot of people are actually living away from the solar system entirely - born into "Houses" far from the sun, into the Emperor's war machine. It's hard to tell.

Either way, I'm not gonna assign any more planets now until I know more.

>> Next: The Resurrection

#does this count as liveblog? i'll tag it as if it does for now #tlt liveblog #tlt theories #the locked tomb #tlt #no nona the ninth spoilers please #the locked tomb liveblog #tlt spoilers #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth

[fruit-sauce]

back at it again with my insane AUs that make no sense to everyone except me

I can barely describe this myself but I'll sure try:

These were mostly based off the designs lining up well, they don't all make sense, some can best be described as "I just felt it made sense" so I'll try my best

Jaiden/Nihilego - Even with Baghera and Forever's connection with the Federation, Jaiden is preferred and is treated really nicely/Lusamine is obsessed it; blue; I was more thinking of the Lillie Nihilego from the anime

Vegetta/Buzzwole - buff; "its my six-pack!" - Vegetta/Buzzwole liking to flex and show off

Nihachu/Pheromosa - Very pretty and feminine, as well as super badass; Niki's sweater reminds me of Pheromosa's shiny

Tubbo/Xurkitree - Tubbo immediately building that giant drill "world eater"/Xurkitree having said that it once raided a powerplant; they both relate to machinery in some way; it was either Xurkitree or Guzzlord ngl

Philza/Celesteela - green; flying

Tina/Kartana - color palette has lots of orange and white; both relate to plants, Tina - carrots/Kartana - grass type

Felps/Guzzlord - Felp's square he's digging out/Guzzlord having eaten mountains and buildings

Slime/Poipole - Slime is.... slimy.../Poipole being called "UB Adhesive"

Ironmouse/Naganadel - Purple and Pink color scheme; this one is another one where there is little reason, it just felt right

Antoine/Stakataka - Antoine's builds (specifically the pillars at his Moon) reminded me of Stakataka; the skin I used in the photo, you can see stuff peaking through his arms and legs that match with Stakataka's eye things

Missa/Blacephalon - there is no explanation for this one; I guess Blacephalon's shiny matches well?

Quackity/Cosmog/Cosmoen - just a little guy; Quackity being stuck in water/Cosmoen being stuck, unable to move or do anything until it evolves

Etoiles/Solgaleo - Star/sun symbolism

BadBoyHalo/Lunala - Night/bat/etc. symbolism

ElQuackity/Necrozma - Darker color scheme; in ElQuackity's last days, he came in to say things, then it started raining/Necrozma stealing the light from the world

Mr. ------/Lusamine - He managed to get all the members to the island for whatever reason and Lusamine obsession with the Ultra Beasts (and the room with all the frozen Pokemon resembles the ice chambers the latest members were in)

Baghera/Lillie - Based off recent lore and the "Manager's Children" AU/headcanon; I really like how Lillie from shy and meek, to gaining confidence and wanting to go out on her own journey (both in game and in the anime),

Forever/Gladion - Also from "Manager's Children" AU/headcanon; Forever and Baghera having a sibling-like bond

Cellbit/Type:Null - Close relation to Forever/Gladion; Cellbit works for the Federation/Type:Null was created by the Aether Foundation

#i will draw this #qsmp #badboyhalo #etoiles #forever player #baghera jones #jaiden animations #jaiden here #cellbit #felps #quackity #elquackity #missasinfonia #Philza #Tubbo #nihachu #vegetta777 #qsmp au #fs qsmp headcanons #i forgot about the code... #pokémon #pokemon