#not with swords but with my words which are their own swords

[achaotichuman]

I will say this once, and only once because I am hardly losing sleep over Elain in the slightest.

Throwing around the idea that everyone who disagrees with the theory Elain would make a good High lady is not a direct output of internalized misogyny. In fact, not caring about Elain at all, is not an output of misogyny either.

The idea that people only dislike her, or otherwise do not pay her as much notice as other characters is because of misogyny, is completely false at best, and a half-assed attempt at morally upping people at worst.

I am sorry, but on my desk alone I can count 12 books with female main characters who are incredibly feminine and do not end up a warrior with a sword in their hands. So, to accuse me of disliking or discrediting Elain because I have internalized misogyny, is an insult, no matter how you try to spin it.

Quite frankly, I do not like being accused of being a misogynist over a fictional character, so let me go over this once and only once.

Elain is not a main character as of yet. She is a side character and so is Lucien at the moment. Sure, it's pretty damn obvious both are being set up to have their own book, but for now other than the bonus chapter we see very, very little of Elain. And when we do, she makes no major impact to the reader other than to people who ship Elucien. I highlight the word reader, because obviously with the whole stabbing of Hybern she made a pretty big impact to the story itself.

Which I will remind she would have never been able to do if she had died in the Hybern Camps, which she got herself into and had to be rescued to get out, but I digress.

Lucien has more impact in the story than Elain, Nesta had more impact throughout the entire series than Elain. When we go back to the human lands in Acowar, we see more of Nesta. We are talking Nesta.

So, already, Elain is not the biggest character in the series, in fact she tends to cause more discord and harm than good. Whether she is aware of it or not.

In the first book this is because she is another mouth that Feyre has to feed. And appears as completely unaware of the hard work Feyre is putting in to hunt. Which already starts the reader off as underestimating her. Whether or not she was doing more behind the scenes is ignored by Feyre and the bias she has, therefore this is the only impression we get of Elain.

This was retconned later, but I am not going to ignore it since we are talking about impressions here and not about the legitimacy of the statement "Elain can't grasp things". This is what Feyre says first up in the book, which is where the reader is being given their first impressions and laying out their first thoughts of the characters.

Later on, Elain is still a very minor character. Nesta was the one who went to the wall to try and retrieve Feyre, not Elain.

In the next books, Elain does not want to be in the Faery lands, with good reason. She is very much to the side trying to handle her own trauma, the only time we see her come out of her shell a little bit is when she is Seering. Which the IC doesn't even use her for in Silver Flames, they get Nesta to do it. Nesta talks to the Cauldron, not Elain. Nesta scrys not Elain. Elain only scrys once if my memory does me justice, and it is hidden from the rest of the characters other than Feyre.

Like it not, (I know I don't like it, but I recognize it) The Night Court is the Court of interest within the Acotar series and Elain appearing as not a part of it, or as different from it, is reason for the reader to not pay her interest because they are focusing on what is happening in the Night Court. Its Elain being put to the side again, because at this point, she is a side character.

She was the one who was lured into the camps of Hybern by the Cauldron, which created a frustrating problem for the IC and Feyre, who are the MCs at this point.

She is probably going to be the next MC in the series, but up until now, unless you do ship Elucien or otherwise care about what happens to Lucien. There is not a massive need to care about Elain, leading to people either not caring about her, or not liking her.

Of course this isn't a reason to be anti of her, I'm pro Tamlin and he is somehow the most hated character in the series. But like being Pro Tamlin doesn't mean you're an abuse apologist, not really caring about Elain is not being a misogynist.

Why do I not care about Elain? Because simply put, she's a side character who I've never seen be very driven for anything in a way that wholly affected the plot, and no matter what your headcanons for her are, they are your headcanons, not mine. She is never focused on, and not in a 'we don't care about her because she's feminine' way, in a 'she simply has no relevancy yet' way.

And no, I don't care about her potential, because she isn't my favorite character. That's okay. I don't need her to be my favorite character to not be a misogynist. And no, I don't need to acknowledge her potential to not be a misogynist either.

To try and accuse people of being misogynistic to support your claim of Elain being a High Lady is a blunt sword at best. And it all comes down to one argument, why do you not like Elain?

Because as of right now, she has no drive, because she has no reason to have any drive, because at the moment she is a side character. I simply cannot stress that enough.

It does not matter, if she is one day going to be a main character, she is currently a side character who drives no plot and has no call to action.

Of course, the A Court of Thorns and Roses series is a fantasy romance, and Elain's story will be for the most part non-violent. Which I enjoy a lot more than warrior stories.

I do not read fantasy most of the time. I have read like four-five fantasy series in my life. I mostly read historical fiction, regency fiction, mysteries and retellings of fairytale tropes. Elucien's book will be filled with high society and navigating the political world rather than the battlefield. I will probably enjoy it more than Nesta or Feyre's journey.

That does not mean I need to care about her or think her to be a good ruler. Because I am more than happy to read a story of Lucien and Elain travelling the world in a way that Nesta and Feyre always wanted to and never did. In fact, I think it would be a better fit for both of them to find a life outside of Prythian, and outside of the box they were both shoved into. Because regardless of how you see it, Elain and Lucien were both forced into the places they are now.

But sure, I'm the misogynist for not wanting another journey to becoming a ruler despite being in your early twenties and never being prepared for it, story.

I am not trying to pick a fight with Eluciens. But I am trying to get the point across at how it is a fairly half-assed accusation to throw at someone over a fictional character.

Do I think that everyone has some level of internalized misogyny because of the society we live in? Absolutely. But to act as though it is pure misogyny coming out when we discuss Elain is just plain insult throwing. And I put it in the same box as people who say people who support Lucien and Tamlin are abuse apologists. Because it's an assumption you are making about a person's morals and thinking with no real basis.

No matter if you ship, Elain and Lucien or Elain and Azriel, or Elain and Gwyn or Elain and Eris, or whoever else in the acotar world. I believe trying to question another personal's morals over a fictional relationship, or character in general, is rude, inconsiderate and invasive.

I will repeat, I am not trying to pick a fight, I am terrified of fighting. But that doesn't mean I won't defend myself. Overall, this was not meant at all to question whether or not Elain will be High lady, and if I see discussion about that, I will assume you did not read my full argument and will be ignoring you.

So, to recap. Elain is a side character, and her not being your favorite character does not make you a misogynist. People not acknowledging, disliking, or otherwise 'sleeping on' Elain, does not make them a misogynist. That is a crazy accusation. We are already in a highly toxic fandom that throws around labels and sticks them to people who disagree with them over characters. Let's not add to that.

I think if you can't make a critical analysis without sticking a label to someone than you haven't made an analysis.

Let's be honest, all the 'arguing' is supposed to be a debate, not a real argument. Unless the person you are arguing with is being deliberately disrespectful, then there is no reason to insult someone's person. Debates can get heated while still being respectful.

Calling someone an abuse apologist, telling someone they have internalized misogyny when you've never met them in person, or otherwise trying to degrade someone else's argument by insulting them, is childish. I am not going to allow any arguments against this whatsoever, because this shouldn't be up for debate.

Hating on a character because they are feminine is misogynistic. Obviously. But not caring for a character because they are a side character or have caused more problems than done good is simply not liking a character.

And let's be honest for a second, some people just don't like characters because they just simply aren't interested, and that is okay. You are not morally right, and they are not morally wrong.

This was a very long-winded rant, all to say, stop insulting people who have done nothing other than no agreed with a statement you made about a character. It's just not a nice thing to do at all.

And no, this was not a list of reasons of why you shouldn't care about Elain, this is MY reasoning for not caring about Elain in the present time.

You can argue that Elain did make some impression on the reader in x scene in x book at x time. But it didn't an impression on me, which led me to not caring about her. It's fruitless to argue that point with me unless we are engaging in a debate about Elain as a character.

And this was not meant to be a comment on Elain as a character, nor on what I think her story will be. This is a direct comment on the idea of people being misogynistic for not liking Elain. It's an insane comment to make.

I will repeat for the hundredth time, some people don't care for Elain because she is a side character. Some people don't like her because of the kind of impact she made on them. And some people just don't like her vibes. All of which are not rooted in misogyny. Her story has not been told, at all, we don't need to care about her yet.

Okay bye.

#acotar #elain archeron #acotar rant #kind of #more like fandom rant #since this a pretty popular idea #yall ignore that i forgot to put the read more thing at first

[swallowtail-lotus]

We will meet again {Hades x Wife!Reader}

Spoilers for rounds 6 & 7 if any of you haven't read to that point.

I have to take down that no angst rule if I haven't done that yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You accompanied your husband, Hades, walking beside him with teary eyes. You had married him before Zeus was born, so the king of the gods himself saw you as a older sister, just like Poseidon does (although he'll never admit it out loud-). When word of Poseidon losing in round 3 had reached your ear, you sobbed for the god. Hades had to comfort you the best he can, as he couldn't stand hearing you cry.

"You didn't have to come with me." Hades spoke up, looking at you.

"I know, but I didn't want to be alone." You replied, holding his hand. This always brought a smile to his face. You both reached the vip room, where his nephews Hermes and Ares were watching the rounds.

"That is our seat." Hades only had to speak a simple sentence to Ares, who immediately jumped out of the seat while yelling out. Your husband sat down, looking back at you.

"Come sit with me." Hades said. You shook your head, which made Hades a little bit upset but he didn't press any further. You stood beside the seat, watching the current round with nervous eyes.

You watched as the creature, Hajun was slowly gaining the upper hand against the god fighting for humanity, Buddha. You watch with anticipation, feeling relieved when Buddha slowly turned the tables.

"You're the fool here, you big oaf!" Hades exclaimed, snapping you out of your trance. You stepped back in surprise from the volume.

Without saying a word, you walked out, closing the door behind you.

You approached the Valkyrie, Brunhilde and tapped her shoulder. The dark haired woman turned around. The shorter one, Göll did the same, but she yelped out when she saw you.

"Greetings, Lady (Y/n). What brings you here?" Brunhilde asked, her green eyes staring into your own.

"Please don't speak a word to this but...." You whispered the rest into her ear. Brunhilde's eyes widen at what you said, standing in place as you patted her shoulder. You walked past the two Valkyries, your footsteps echoing through the corridors.

__________

The moment a figure in all black walked out after the opponent, everyone present was confused and shocked. Including Zeus and Odin. You had returned to the VIP room after a nice talk with Brunhilde

The human fighter, Qin Shi Huang was confused, but quickly shook it off.

"And who may you be?" Qin asked, pointing at the figure. They sighed and took out their choice of weapon.

"That does not matter. Let's just fight." They replied emotionlessly, raising it high. Qin smirked and got into a fighting stance. The figure thrusted their weapon forward, aiming for Qin's shoulder, who deflected the strike and sent it back to them. The mysterious fighter was sent flying to the other side of the arena.

You say beside your husband, watching the match with a small smile. Hades noticed your smile and saw it as odd, but he brushed it off.

Everyone watched as the fight went on, blood being spilled from one strike to another. Some of the clothing the fighter wore was sliced apart.

When Qin stabbed the fighter through the chest, you felt the same pain. Qin moved the sword diagonally, the blood spraying out from the slice. You winced and clutched your shoulder, getting your husband's attention.

"(Y/n), are you alright?" Hades asked, grabbing you before you fell off. You let out some shaky pants, unable to speak properly.

"I'm sorry, my love..." You whispered, turning into liquid. Hades' eyes widen at the liquid, looking at the figure. The fighter stumbled back, falling to their knees. They reached up and took off the mask, laughing quietly. Hades felt his heart sink when he saw the face.

"(Y/n)?" The god whispered quietly, his arms shaking. You fell backwards, too weak to move from the injuries you received. Like the other fallen fighters, your body started to shatter like glass.

"My Hades....." You moved your eyes to see your husband one last time. You managed to whisper one last thing before you shattered completely.

"Please forgive me.... I love you, my beloved..."

#this wasn't as good as i thought #i tried though #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #ror x reader #record of ragnarok angst #record of ragnarok hades #record of ragnarok hades x reader #ror hades x reader

[internet-cheesecake]

oooooo so since the 'pre-cult leader lamb' is in the lead for the next comic poll as of rn, figured I'd do some quick doodles and notes on it & them

here's their general design & some info

(wawawawawawaaaaaaaaa why are side profiles so hard to draw ????? .⁠·⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠(⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠·⁠.)

then some notes and rambling on the comic's plot & other info about their background below, so spoiler alert if you wanna wait !

this was probably the longest out of all the ideas, so I'm gonna split it up a bunch. This is the general plot idea though so far (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

•only child of a merchant family from anchordeep, thus learned general merchant trades & bribery

•fled the anchordeep culling with parents, and ended up settling in a hidden sheep village in darkwood

('hidden village refers to 'the herd' found in one of the lost messages. Generally, i think lambs in the areas wouldve been hunted in this order: silk cradle, anchordeep, anura, then darkwood.)

(silk cradle first, since Shamura is the god of wisdom, so it could have been their idea, plus, the prophecy

anchordeep next because Kallamar probably would've followed suit, whether it be for his own safety against the prophecy, or out of not wanting to upset anyone.

then anura, not much thought for this one, but we know darkwood was last since the Lamb was found there, so we can assume anura was before it.)

•would do odd jobs around the village for money and supplies, including guard duty, babysitting, supply runs, ect (basically, where they got the experience later used to run a cult)

•lambs who would leave the village on supply runs sometimes started disappearing while gone, including their parents. Lambert took this as a sign of a potential attack upcoming, and started stockpiling jewelery for bribery and selling, hence why they're wearing so much of it.

•was about to return from a supply run when the village was found, and they went into hiding

(reference to 'lost message II,' which states 'one fled my blade. I will find it')

•was caught a few times, but managed to escape by either using bribes or fighting

•after a few years in hiding, they eventually exhausted all their savings, (bribe jewelry) and when put into a difficult spot, they were forced to sell their sword, leading to them being unable to fight or bribe, causing them to be caught and sacrificed.

•when finally caught, did not say a word. was probably holding back tears and didn't want to seem like a coward in their last moments

(feels fitting that they'd have a lot of pride and not want to seem like a coward, since they're a sore loser in the game. also yet another reference to the lost message, stating 'I found the last, hidden deep in the Lands. It followed me, silent, to the ritual grounds.')

•Their sword, 'beat-up blade' had been a bit of a family heirloom. No one had actually used it in generations though, as it was not really fit for fighting anymore. After their parents disappeared, Lamb tried to DIY restore it by replacing the blade with a darkwood style one, as they were more used to it (due to guard duty) and the anchordeep hilt would sell for a pretty penny. Apparently, it was one of Kallamar's many weapons a very, very long time ago.

(I need some kind of actual reason for the Kallamar favortism that isnt just 'oh yeah internet-cheesecake thinks he's cool lmao' so made Lamb from anchordeep & gave them one of Kallamar's super old and unwanted swords. that way, i can do some kind of 'well, you kinda protected me, in a way. for that, I've grown to appreciate you. So thank you.' oh and plus i live in a tropical area and wanted to include that somehow)

#cotl #traditional art #cult of the lamb oc #cult of the lamb #cotl fanart #cotl lamb #cult of the lamb lambert #the lamb cotl #cotl art #cotl comic #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb leshy #cult of the lamb fanart #cult of the lamb au #cult of the lamb shamura #cult of the lamb narinder #cotl lore #cotl au #cotl oc #cotl bishops #cult of the lamb bishops #cult of the lamb kallamar #cotl kallamar #lambsona #cotl the lamb #cult of the lamb comic

[winwin17]

Are you afraid of Scary Bilbo?

Maybe, but ...

Does it change your view of Bilbo's entire character? Does it make you decide Bilbo is evil and corrupt at heart? Does it cause you to deride Bilbo for greed and selfishness in spite of all his heroic deeds?

No?

Then why do you do that to Boromir?

When Boromir tried to take the Ring from Frodo, it was his equivalent to the "HRRAAGHH!!" Bilbo moment.

Think back to the moment when Bilbo at Rivendell asked Frodo just to see the Ring, and in one fleeting instant Frodo saw, not the Bilbo he knew, but "a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands." The flash of vision scared Frodo so bad he felt a desire to strike Bilbo. Frodo was terrified.

And then the next moment, Bilbo was himself again. The book itself describes the moment thus: "Bilbo looked quickly at Frodo 's face and passed his hand across his eyes. 'I understand now,' he said. 'Put it away! I am sorry: sorry you have come in for this burden; sorry about everything.'"

My friends, this is not that different from what happened with Boromir. He pressed Frodo to show him the Ring, and then became so intense about it that Frodo was terrified Boromir would take the Ring by force. Just like he'd been terrified of Scary Bilbo. Because, just as that was frighteningly not like the true Bilbo, this action was also not like the true Boromir.

Sadly, Frodo did not get the chance to hear Boromir's repentant apology and weeping once the moment of madness had passed. He got to hear Bilbo say, "I am sorry; sorry about everything!" But he did not get to hear Boromir say, "What have I said? What have I done?" nor his confession to Aragorn, "I tried to take the Ring from Frodo. I am sorry."

And what did Bilbo want the Ring for at that point in his life anyway? What would he do with its power? Get revenge on his petty relatives? Acquire riches and pipe-weed to last a lifetime? On the other hand, Boromir wanted the Ring as a final desperate hope to save his city, his home, his family, and his people. Being of a noble heart, he viewed the Ring as the only possible way to protect and defend others. It could be said that he was somewhat selfish and desired glory of his own through his efforts, but then again, wouldn't it be called selfishness for Bilbo to get revenge on the Sackville-Baggins, or store up wealth and riches for himself, or hoard all the pipe-weed he could want? Perhaps he would have had loftier thoughts and intentions to use it against Sauron - but then that would simply be a twin vision to Boromir's.

The point is, no one loses confidence in the character of Bilbo or his true-heartedness because of that one scary moment when he is almost overcome by lust for the Ring. And yet Boromir gets villainized for the same thing.

Say it with me, folks: "Boromir was no more of a villain in his temporary madness for the Ring than Scary Bilbo was!"

#lotr #i will stand for hero boromir #you may stick me full of arrows but i will die defending him #not with swords but with my words which are their own swords #lord of the rings #lotr fandom #boromir #lotr boromir #bilbo baggins #the hobbit #rivendell #frodo baggins #the one ring #lotr books #books and reading #book nerd #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #scary bilbo

[mikoriin]

A Series of Firsts (SS Zelink first time nsfw oneshot)

so im so excited for totk and so i went back to my favorite zelda game and wrote something for these two. i adore ss zelink, its the only other zelink aside from botw that i actually ship. 18+ to be advised!

---------

Pairing - Zelda/Link (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Rating - 18+

Type - Oneshot

Enjoy!

---------

It had been months since Hyrule was founded and declared a kingdom under Queen Zelda, the reincarnation of the goddess Hylia herself, naming her kingdom after her predecessor. Months since Link had sealed away Demise into the sword, leaving it dormant in the temple to rest, rest until the next of their bloodline would come and fight Demise’s anger and rage. 

Zelda lie in bed in her white nightgown looking up at the ceiling. She was taking to her duties as queen well, albeit a little overwhelming. ‘Nothing I can’t handle’, She thought to herself time and time again. However, one thing she hadn’t adjusted to as well was how little she saw her adored childhood friend these days.

“Link…” The name of her knight dripped off her tongue into the empty air.

Link had been named the kingdom’s greatest protector, Knight of Hyrule. He often traveled Hyrule training to hone his skills or to study the land surrounding them. Groose was a big help with that, he seemed to like to travel with Link. 

Zelda sat up in her bed and felt her heart ache. It had been an entire month since Link had last left, and his letters didn’t indicate when he would be coming back. She knew he was safe, at least. 

There was a knock at the door to her chambers, causing Zelda to slide out of bed and gracefully make her way to her door. “Yes?” She said politely.

Then, in her doorway was a messy, beaten up Link with a huge, dorky smile on his face. Zelda gasped and threw her arms around him, his arms wrapping around her waist tightly.

“You’re back!” She cried, tears practically in her eyes. She pulled away from him, her hands resting on the knight’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? I would’ve prepared breakfast…” She was demanding in her tone at first, but then she seemed a bit disappointed, as if she loved the thought of them sharing a morning together over breakfast.

Link shook his head and signed, “I wanted to surprise you.” 

She tried to stay irritated, but she couldn’t. Not when he looked like a puppy who had just come home to its forever-home for the first time. Link then perked up and signed again, “I have something for you.”

Zelda cocked her head to the side in curiosity, Link pulling his shield and bag down from his back. He knelt to the floor digging through his pouches and bags full of various items he needed for his training. Then, he pulled out a small wooden box. It was quite cute and seemed to be handmade.

He rose to his feet, a light blush dusting his cheeks and ears. He handed it to her quickly and awkwardly, not saying a word. Zelda took it clumsily. “For me?” She asked, eyes wide.

Link nodded, smiling, his cheeks still pink.

Zelda blinked then opened the small wooden box to find a band of jewelry, made from pebbles and beads, thin strings connecting the three bands of beads to where they spread. In the center, connecting the bands, was a symbol made of silver; three triangles placed to arrange into one larger triangle. The Triforce. Inside were the three symbols of the goddesses, Din, Nayru, and Farore, etched into the metal. 

Zelda gasped and her eyes watered over. “Link…”

“I made it for you.” He said, his voice soft like velvet.

She looked into his eyes, tears swelling in hers. They were swimming blue, like the skies they had known before. Vast and deep, yet they held a sort of longing that Zelda didn’t know how to place. His eyelashes sharply shaped his eye, however when he blinked they brushed his freckled cheeks delicately. 

He took the handmade jewelry out of the silk sheet it lay on in the box and gently held her hand in his free one. He slipped the first band’s ring into her middle finger, and wrapped the other two bands around her wrist. The jewelry elegantly dressed Zelda’s hand in faded hues of blue, green, and silver, glimmering in the lights that illuminated her bedroom.  She giggled. “It fits perfectly.” She said, almost in awe.

Link kept her hand in his, tightening his hold on it just a little and replied, “I’ve been studying them.” His voice was almost a whisper.

This made Zelda’s cheeks flash red, however she did not deny him her hand to hold. She flashed her big blue eyes at him and he was looking down at her hand, caressing it gently. Her heart was racing but she couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him let go of her hand. If he stopped holding her she thought she just might stop breathing.

She stared back at the piece of jewelry donning her dainty hand. She thought of how they were right now, giving gifts and exchanging breathless stares into each other's eyes…It was all so cheesily romantic. And she knew how she felt about him, knew for years. She felt it before she even knew what it was. And she thought of that day, the day it all started, the day her, their entire lives changed. She thought of the Wing Ceremony, Link winning and the donning of knightship upon the statue of the goddess. She thought deeper and further, to the point right before it all clicked into place.

“Hey…Link?” She said in a quiet voice.

Link tilted his head to the size inquisitively. She had his attention.

Zelda intertwined her fingers into Link's, his hands scarred and calloused, nails dirty from all of the work he had been doing. 

“Do you remember the day of the Wing Ceremony?” She asked.

Link looked at the ceiling like he was trying to recall, then nodded enthusiastically. Zelda giggled. “Good. Do you remember that…thing I wanted to talk to you about?” She said, sort of sheepishly.

Link blinked then shook his head. 

Zelda understood, she never got to say what she truly wanted back then, and she never had the opportunity after. Sure, after peace had been restored to the surface and Hyrule was founded there had been a difference in her and Link’s relationship. It seemed deeper, more passionate, and more romantic, yet neither of them had established anything in particular. In fact, it wasn’t even talked about. And it frustrated Zelda. 

She huffed a little. “Link…What are we?” She asked.

Link signed, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, ever since we started living this life, it's been so peaceful because of our efforts. But, Link, you can’t deny something between us has changed.” She said firmly, looking into those beautiful eyes of sky blue.

Link blushed and looked away. 

“Please don’t run from this conversation.” Zelda said, “I don’t want to yell, or control…I just want to tell you what I wanted to tell you so long ago…”

Her heart beat fast and just when she was about to speak he put a finger to her lips. She blinked in surprise, a bit of a squeak coming from the back of her throat. He smiled and took her jeweled hand in his, turning it so her palm faced upwards. He then took his index finger and pressed it to her palm, and began to draw into it. 

Zelda’s eyes shot wide, a crimson blush spread across her cheeks. A heart. She knew what he meant. And she felt the same. Her eyes softened as tears began to pool in her baby blues. She breathed in, ceasing the tears from leaving her eyes, and nodded. They felt the same. They didn’t need to say it, they knew. 

She then smiled and playfully leaned in closer to her knight, her face close to his, slinking her arms around his neck.  “I missed you.” She said, her voice almost teasing.

Link blushed and stared at her with innocent eyes. Zelda stared at him, examining his features. Sharp nose, soft cheeks, but such intense eyes, like a wolf. His ears were pointed finely and draped down to his hard jawline, which was scarred up to his freckled cheek. Zelda felt something she couldn’t explain tug at her heart, and on instinct she kissed the scar. 

Link made a noise of his own, something of a squeak and a yelp. His face and ears down to his neck burned bright red. Zelda was almost embarrassed at what she had done, but the sight of Link so flustered over something like that was adorable. It made her want to test him, see how far she could take it. She then kissed his earlobe and down, tracing chaste, soft kisses along his neck. Then, she pulled away to see what her work had produced. 

But the look on Link’s face was not flustered and shy like Zelda had anticipated. It was sharp and intense, his cheeks hot with blush. 

Zelda blinked and blushed herself, because she wasn’t sure what that expression meant. “Did I-” She started, but the next noise that could come out of her mouth was a small squeak as Link pulled her hips to his. 

She could feel something bulging between her thighs, embarrassing her as her blush spread further to her collarbone. She looked up to Link who still held those intense eyes, something akin to lust swimming in those blue pools. 

He leaned in closer to her, trailing his hands around her hips and up her torso, up through her breasts and neck, and cupped her cheeks in his calloused palms. He leaned in so close she could feel his breath on her lips. “Please don’t tease me, Princess.” He whispered.

Zelda shivered at the low, hoarse tone of his voice. She began to feel a sensation in her lower abdomen, burning hot. She looked at him through hazy eyes, seeing herself in the reflection of his lust-hazed eyes. She realized she was staring at him with those same eyes. She bit her lip, daring herself to say her next thought.

“Kiss me.” She whispered.

That was all Link needed before he scooped her into his hands and buried his lips into hers. The kiss was rough, but deep, intense, and passionate. Both of them melted into it, Zelda wrapping her arms tightly around Link’s neck. Their bodies pressed closer, Link’s obvious bulge pressing deeper in between Zelda’s thighs. She could practically grind on him from where she stood, and the thought of it made her feel even wetter than before. 

Link seemed to notice because he groaned and bit into her lip, taking his hands from her face and scooping her up by the thighs, he lifted her onto his hips, carrying her to her bed. The two stayed intertwined, Zelda moaning into his mouth as his tongue entered into hers. He flung her onto her soft bed, leaning over her. He seemed so much bigger than her this way, Zelda noticed. He had really grown and muscled up, however that didn’t come without its scars. 

“Take off your tunic.” Zelda whispered.

Link immediately obliged, obeying her as if it was a command. He unbuckled his belt full of his pouches from his waist and tossed it to the side, effortlessly slipping off his tunic. He was left in his undershirt and pants above her, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Zelda could see his muscled chest bulge from under the shirt, her hands reaching to take it off. She wanted to see those muscles. Link finished what she started, taking his undershirt from where Zelda grabbed it and slipped it off, tossing it away. 

His body wasn’t chiseled with muscle, but rather his muscle was solid and thick. Zelda found she preferred this over rock hard abs. She ran a hand over his scarred stomach, feeling his warm, silky skin. Link shuddered at her touch, feeling himself get harder in his trousers. Zelda noticed, and brought her legs in between Link’s and brought her delicate, dainty feet to touch and feel his bulge. 

A quiet moan escaped Link’s lips, so faint it was almost just a breath. Zelda giggled and began to rub her feet up and down Link’s hard on, Link huffing and moaning at her touch. Zelda felt powerful making him whimper like this, and it made her lower abdomen swim with a mix of butterflies and a moist heat.

Link leaned down, his broad shoulders making his back seem so large above her dainty frame. He grabbed her ankles with his large, scarred hands and spread her legs, leaning between them to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Zelda moaned at the contact. 

Link licked his lips then, like he was savoring the taste of her lips. He looked down and his face began to heat up at the sight of Zelda’s, almost translucent, white dress that fell to her hips, revealing her soaked panties. Despite both of their embarrassments, he licked his lips again, eyeing the wet spot on her white panties. She looked like an angel under him. He burned the sight into his brain.

He leaned down between her thighs and Zelda yelped. “Link, wait-!” She cried out.

Link immediately shot his head up and looked at her with sorry eyes. “Sorry…” He whispered. “...May I?”

Zelda’s head was swimming and she was too wet and horny, feeling like she wanted him so bad, needed him , needed to be filled with all of him. And she wondered what the feeling of his tongue would be against her soft skin.

She took in a breath and thought to herself. Did she want this? Of course she did. She thought about it time and time again. But was now the time? Was she taking too long to answer? What did he want?

Link furrowed his brow and said, “We don’t have to do this.” His eyes were screaming he was sorry.

Zelda shot her hands to his face and cupped his cheeks delicately. “Link…I want you. I’m just…really nervous. I’ve never…” Her voice trailed off, her face red with embarrassment. 

Link’s face softened and he brought a hand to hers, covering it completely under his. He pointed to himself with his free hand and nodded. Zelda practically cried. They would be each other's' firsts…She nodded then, closing her eyes and leaning her head back onto the bed. “Just…go slow.” She said,

Link took his cue and slowly leaned in for a kiss, Zelda welcoming his soft lips on hers. He snaked a hand between her thighs and began to rub her pussy through her panties. Zelda moaned into his mouth, the sound turning Link on even more. He pressed his tongue to the entrance of her lips and she let him in, tasting each other, molding into each other.

Link broke the kiss with a loud moan from Zelda, a trail of saliva connecting their tongues. He continued to rub her, feeling her panties get wetter and wetter as he stroked his hand up and down. Zelda whimpered under him, but not taking her eyes off of him. Her eyes were hazy and Link could practically see the hearts in them.

Then, Link stopped rubbing her pussy. Zelda groaned in frustration, wriggling her hips at the loss of contact. Link smirked to himself, she was so impatient. He slid his hand up her dress and slinked his fingers between her hips and the band of her panties. Sliding them off effortlessly, Link looked at Zelda in the eye for one more affirmation of consent. She nodded, and he obliged. 

He bit his lip at the sight of her bare pussy before him, plump and pink. He was already so hard and he needed her just as bad as she needed him, but pleasing his queen was his first priority. Slinking down between her thighs he placed a kiss on those soft lips, electricity shooting through Zelda’s body at the contact. Link immediately began to taste her, sliding his wet, hot tongue between her folds, drinking her up.

Zelda’s hands shot to Link’s messy golden hair, gripping it roughly. He lapped her up, his tongue swirling around her clit, finding himself taking the little ball of nerves into his mouth. He sucked a bit, then licked rapidly at it. Zelda moaned so loud she was sure the whole palace could hear, but she let herself have this, let herself get lost in the pleasure of a long time desire. 

Link continued to eat her out, bringing a couple fingers to her entrance. He licked at her clit, inserting a finger into her. Zelda thrust her hips into him, she was being pushed over the edge. “Link-! I-I’m gonna…!” She pleaded.

But then Link stopped. She could have cried at the rejection of release, whining and feeling bare and empty. She looked up at him to see why he stopped, only to find him taking off his pants and trousers. His dick sprung out of his underwear, thick and hard. Zelda drank up the sight of it, burning the beautiful image into her brain. It made her even more excited to think of it inside her. 

Link stroked his cock a bit, hissing at the friction his hand provided. “Zelda…” He whispered hoarsely.

Zelda melted, she wanted to hear him say her name like that over and over again. She decided she needed him now, she needed to feel him inside of her. She spread her legs further, inviting him in, welcoming in fact. Link shimmied closer to her on the bed, his cock bouncing with the movement. Zelda watched it, studied its shape; thick but not too long, the thicker tip of his dick changing to a pink hue. He was big, but not huge. Zelda was thankful, she didn’t think she could handle anything bigger. 

Link caressed Zelda’s thighs and hips, touching her white creamy skin with those bare calloused hands. He slipped his hands between the sheets and Zelda’s hips and lifted her so she rested on his thighs. Her wet pussy grazed his dick and the two of them shivered at the contact. He rubbed his cock along her entrance, Zelda whimpering, anticipating being filled. 

Once Link’s cock was sufficiently lubed up, he slid himself in, both of them moaning at the sensation. Zelda gripped the white sheets of her bed, her head was swimming with lust and sensitive sensations; he felt so good, almost too good. 

Link brought a gentle hand to Zelda’s cheek, looking at her with concerned eyes. Zelda smiled and turned to face him, looking him in the eyes. “It doesn’t hurt…Please, move.” She wanted him to make her his.

Link did not hesitate, immediately he began to thrust his hips into her. Slowly at first, almost as if they were both too sensitive to go any harder. They moaned and whimpered, Zelda’s wet pussy slathering Link’s cock. 

“More…Please…” Zelda moaned breathlessly.

Link went faster, harder, leaning straight up, his hands on Zelda’s hips as he thrust into her. Zelda moaned loud, biting her index finger. The sight of her could’ve made Link cum right then and there, but she had to cum first. He continued to thrust, moaning at how good she felt, his cock fit perfectly in her pussy. Zelda arched her back and gripped her sheets so hard her knuckles turned white.

“Link-!” She moaned his name, sending an electric shock down Link’s spine.

He wasn’t going to last if she continued to say his name like that. He wanted her, to make her feel as good as he felt, so close to the edge that he wanted to jump off and be released. But he also wanted, needed this to last as long as he could make it. He thrust into her harder, going as deep as he could, feeling her walls tighten around him as he pounded into her. 

They moaned loud into the otherwise quiet room, the sound of wet slapping skin against skin turning them both on even more. “Link…I’m close…” She moaned, her voice lewd in the hot air.

Link grabbed her legs and lifted them to her stomach, pounding into her as hard and deep as he could. He was over the edge. Zelda’s walls tightened around him, pulsating around Link’s cock. They both moaned, releasing themselves to their orgasm, letting themselves be one with each other.  

They both lay on the bed, breathing heavy, embracing in each other’s sticky hot bodies. Link pulled out, his cum oozing out of Zelda’s pink swollen pussy, the two moaning simultaneously. Zelda rubbed his cum into her pussy, deeper. 

“Z-Zelda, please be careful…” Link whispered, remembering what the professors had taught them back in sexual education class at the Knight Academy. 

Zelda only giggled in response. “If you keep doing this, I might have to make you my king.” She teased.

Link blushed deeply as he felt himself harden again. Zelda, noticing, giggled impishly. “Wanna keep going?” Her eyes still swimming with lust.

 Link nodded and the two began to entangle themselves into each other once more, going until they ran out of stamina, falling asleep next to each other. 

#the legend of zelda #the legend of zelda skyward sword #loz #skyward sword #zelda skyward sword #link skyward sword #zelink #zelink fic #first time #first love #fanfiction #loz fanfic #18+ #i think i wanna draw fanart for my own fic lmao #this is so self indulgent #and i took inspiration from the writing style of the book i recently listened to with the way i worded some things #a touch of darkness was rly good #no other book has had my attention like thread needle or a touch of darkness #which!! i will get thread needle back in 8 weeks :3

[danothan]

i love having dc mutuals! would love to follow one some day…

#danbles #dc #autisms #adhdposting #this special interest is a double edged sword bc i didnt think it would still atp feel as fresh as it did the first day #which is great! it means i can enjoy limitlessly!! #but it also means i’m constantly experiencing information overload and that weird anxiety you get around things that make you happy #i actually do have 2 dc mutuals rn (hi dc mutuals!!! thank you for lighting up my dash with joy 🫶) #but there are sooo many blogs i want to follow but can’t bring myself to unless i reach a certain point in my dc dive #i think i’m also worried that i’ll be spoiled/influenced before i even get to form my own opinions #so it’s even harder to follow if they’re not just posting art. you’re telling me there are words out there too?! #i feel like i’m in the garden of eden and at any point i’ll accidentally bite into an apple #i think i’m also just extra weary bc i’ve been burnt out in previous fandoms too #one day tho… one day i’ll be brave enough to have so many dc friends that we could throw a party!!! #in the meantime i’m so grateful to all the fellow dc fans that have been gracious enough to interact with me on my level T__T #discord ppl; random dms/anons; ppl ive met at comic stores… i’ll keep reading and learning more for these conversations 🫡 #and to all my non-dc friends that have been following me along in all this :’) number ones fr #waow… me when the special interest is special… heart

[wikagirl]

Meine Damen, Herren und Nonbinären: Drawing the gang, pride themed warriors edition.

From left to right and top to bottom we have

My previously mentioned a couple times homie Angelo, using the colour scheme of the 2009 intersex flag because, and I quote directly from our dms, "The new colours just look kinda shit."

Right next to him we have my lovely sister from a nother mister, Viriel in her favourite colour with a trans flag on top as a nice little sprinkle instead of the main colour scheme because she is more than just her gender identitiy.

On the second picture we have the demi-alliance made up out of a hopelessly bi-romantic demi-sexual and my asexual demi-romantic lesbian fiancée under the conditions that we'll get married if we're both still single by 35 (and have the funds lul).

And lastly we have the Yuri, No.1 straight ally supportive dad that is not afraid to throw hands in the name of equal rights. Thank you for always having an open door for us and being proud of us when our parents by blood wouldn't be <3

And lastly, my asexual bi-romantic self.

#idk where the others got their outfit references from for the most part #well besides yuris because he made me go get the armor myself in skyrim so I can look at it properly. it's the ebony set #I think my fiancées is vaguely inspired by one of these pokémon fusions with a guardevoir and one of these that are literally just a sword #and I'm pretty sure the armor on the bi-lancer is inspired by something from game of thrones but I haven't watched it so idk #and my own char is also based off of my skyrim character but also real celtic and pre christian germanic clothing mixed in #the blood symbolizes all all the dudes that have “fallen victim” to me being asexual bi-romantic #in other words they hear the bi part #forget the asexual and then get hissy #and throw a fit when the only way I'm willing to touch their dick is with a knife to cut it off and shove it down their throats #“you were leading me on mimimimi” no homie I was simply being nice to you I was treating you like every other human being #it's not that deep #oh yeah my outfit is also kinda vaguely insired by this painting called Nāve which depicts death as a gentle woman in white with a sickle #myart #drawing the gang #queer pride #lgbt pride #pride warriors #thanks and blessings go out for james to sending me the energy to shade the last character #may your hot robots be many and your knee pains be few

[thatnerdydino]

finished watching desconjuração

#SPOILERS AHEAD #i cried for the entirety of the last 30min #i know gal's one of the bad guys #but during the battle with him i couldnt help but root for him a bit. he has an Aura that's for sure #also bc i accidentally glanced at some screenshots from the next season and knew which characters were gonna make it #so i wasnt that worried #though i did have a mini heart attack when gal almost killed arthur #bro i fucking JUMPED out of my bed when veríssimo blocked that shit. WITH ARNALDO FRITZ'S FUCKIN SWORD. LIKE BRO #also the SHOCK when cellbit did the grand reveal abt who kian really was #my jaw was left hanging open #erin's death had me feeling equal parts sad and happy #sad that she got turned into a human shishkebab by gal but happy that she went out in her own terms. in a way #plus the damage her grenades did was nothing to scoff at #i didnt even have time to process fe getting fucking thanos-snapped out of existence #then the masked guys came #and thats when everything started going downhill (emotionally) #I FUCKING KNEW from the moment cellbit mentioned the fog dissipating and kaiser was standing in front of kian. i knew what he was gonna do #and yet i broke down completely when he spoke his final words #from that point onward it was nonstop crying til the end of the episode man #'always the three of us' my ass THEY TOOK MY BOY'S HOMIES. BOTH OF THEM #and then the post credits scene #i had to muffle my fucking sobbing cause 1) my roommate was studying for an exam they had in the morning #and 2) it was 1 in the fucking morning and my neighbour's bedroom is on the other side of the wall #holy fuckign shit cellbit what the fuck man #i shouldve known better after witnessing the finale of osnf. but you know how it is with hope #its gonna be another sleepless night after taking all that in #the feeling of loss and mourning is unreal #no tv series or movies have ever made me cheer or sob or feel like these made-on-the-fly stories have. not one #i hope that one day I'll be fluent enough in portuguese so i can rewatch and understand these series in their entirety #its 3:51am. goodnight

[aemondsbabe]

The Gods and Everyone

summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament

pairing: aemond targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 5.6k

a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!

creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears. 

“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”

“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”

“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.” 

“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”

“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens. 

“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh. 

“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.” 

You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach. 

“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without. 

Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”

“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle. 

Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”

“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.

You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table. 

“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.

“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. 

“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers. 

You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.

“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance. 

You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.” 

He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”

You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you. 

Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. 

You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one. 

“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.” 

His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.” 

Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass. 

Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open. 

You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second. 

Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after. 

You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention. 

Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do. 

Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together. 

“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond. 

Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips. 

“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.” 

“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.” 

“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small. 

You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder. 

“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden. 

“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table. 

“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table. 

“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown. 

“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”

Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.

“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”

“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”

Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more. 

“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”

“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.

“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins. 

The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more. 

The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long. 

“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”

Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.

As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them. 

“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”

Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place. 

Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl. 

You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you. 

Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them. 

Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention. 

“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern. 

You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances. 

Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.” 

Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys. 

Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch. 

The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close. 

Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you. 

Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust. 

Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides. 

Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown. 

You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence. 

Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver. 

Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.

Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily. 

At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”

“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink. 

“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door. 

“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls. 

Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.” 

“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin. 

Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him. 

At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting. 

You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. 

“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts. 

Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you. 

Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more. 

“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling. 

“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.” 

Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”

“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.” 

His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it. 

Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long. 

He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather. 

“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.” 

Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.” 

“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,” 

“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh. 

You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.

“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.” 

“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa @trshngyn

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #my writing #request

[daegall]

☆ macrocosm

➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!

Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.

Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.

Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.

"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.

He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.

Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.

However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.

Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.

Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.

"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"

You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"

Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.

"I got hurt," He replies simply.

As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.

Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.

With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.

In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"

"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"

With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.

He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.

"Better?"

And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.

And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.

You're sad.

Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.

His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"

You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"

"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"

You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.

"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!

Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.

"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"

You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.

"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.

They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.

Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.

"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"

And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.

"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"

Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.

"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.

"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"

Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.

He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."

Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.

"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.

You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.

Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.

#luke castellan imagines #pjo series #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke pjo x reader #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan fluff

[dcxdpdabbles]

I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??

anyway

Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”

“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*

“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks

"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.

Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.

"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"

Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."

"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.

How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?

"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."

Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."

Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.

And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.

The perfect heir.

It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.

"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."

"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"

"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."

"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.

The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.

"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.

He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."

"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.

"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.

Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.

It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.

"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.

"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.

"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"

"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.

A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.

He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"

"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."

"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.

"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"

"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.

Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.

"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.

Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.

"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.

His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The Audit #Damian's cool uncle Danny #In which Danny was reborn as Daniel Al Ghul four hundred and ten years ago as Ra's first born son #Then went all Ghost King on him #and now travels the world making sure kid's safety laws are followed #Sorry I know it's not what you were picturing but it's all I could think of.

[sanguineterrain]

window pains | jason todd

Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.

A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."

It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 

You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 

That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 

Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 

But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 

Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 

"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"

"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"

You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 

"How'd they get you?" you ask. 

It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.

You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?

The last one, you always know the answer to. 

"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 

He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 

Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 

"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 

"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"

"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."

That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 

You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 

"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."

"You can put them on yourself." 

His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 

Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 

"Can I crash here?" 

"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.

You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 

"What're you doing?" you ask. 

"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."

"I didn't say that, I said—"

"I can read between the lines." 

"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 

"What situation?"

You turn your head. "Nothing."

Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 

"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."

"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."

Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"

You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."

"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."

"Lie the fuck down, Todd."

His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."

Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 

Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 

Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 

"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 

"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 

You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 

"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 

He squints. "It's August."

"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 

"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 

You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 

"You're tired of me," he says. 

Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  

"You are."

"I'm not tired of you, Jay."

You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 

You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 

You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.

You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 

"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 

"I'd be tired of me." 

"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"

Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  

"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."

"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 

He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 

"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 

"I don't need 'em."

"You do. You need another on your forehead."

"It'll heal fine without it."

Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 

"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."

He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 

Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."

"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."

He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 

"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."

Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 

"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."

His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.

You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.

His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 

"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 

You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 

"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x gender neutral reader #batman fanfiction #dc fanfic #batman imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

[revasserium]

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

reqs are: temporarily closed

but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!

#Anonymous #one piece #one piece live action #opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #x reader #opla #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #one piece fluff #opla fluff #roronoa zoro imagines #roronoa zoro scenarios #floofy floof floof #scheduled post #angst mcgee #and yes after some consideration and that poll #im giving Proper Caps a try LOL #its strange i think it actually changes my voice a lil bit #but i dont think i mind??? #anyway -- any feedback would be much appreciated! <3

[triptuckers]

sparring sessions - percy jackson

Request: yes! "ok so ik it’s kinda (by kind of i mean VERY) cliche, but i was wondering if u could do like an angst -> fluff where like percy and reader get into a fight n stuff and he like admits that he loves them??" Pairing:  percy jackson x reader Summary:  when an argument between you and percy gets heated, some things are revealed Warnings:  mentions of injuries and blood, arguing, angst Word count:  858 A/N: raaaaaahhh I LOVE me some cliche's LETS GO !! thanks for you request, enjoy!

it started out as an innocent sparring session between percy and jake, a hephaestus kid. a couple kids from hermes, hephaestus, and athena decided to get together to train. you and percy also joined.

you'd been at camp longer than percy, so you had trained him in the beginning. the two of you often train together even though percy is now better than you.

but somehow he still looks at you while sparring with someone else. if it's to read your facial expressions or just because you're in his line of sight, you're not sure.

but today it nearly went wrong.

while percy and jake were sparring, percy was looking at you and too late to block jake's sword. he managed to make a deep cut in percy's arm.

the session was immediately ended and percy put his sword away. while the other kids continued their training session, you walked away. you couldn't stay there and be around percy right now. clearly he hadn't listened to you.

but percy, having seen your face, follows you.

as soon as you get to percy's cabin - which provides you with more privacy than your own - you turn around to look at him with an irritated look on your face.

'I told you to ignore me if you're sparring!' you say.

percy frowns. but nothing bad happened? why are you mad at him? besides, he can't look away from you when he's sparring. he thought you knew this.

'and how am I supposed to do that?' says percy, watching as you take off your armor and neatly put it away. 'you're the one that taught me. of course I need to see if you think I'm doing a good job.'

you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. you're trying so hard to stay calm right now.

'of course I think you're doing a good job, percy.' you say. 'I know you're good at what you do. but you'd do a great job if you would listen to my advice and avoid getting stabbed.'

percy makes a soft offended noise. 'first of all, I didn't get stabbed. I got nicked!'

you groan out loud 'percy! come on, don't be stubborn!'

'I'm the one being stubborn? you should see yourself when you're sparring. you want it to be perfect but fighting never is! it's messy, no matter how good you train someone.'

'I'm going for a walk.' you say, before you get angrier and say things you don't mean.

you grab your armor and walk towards the door, but he steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.

'oh no, you're not. we're not done yet.' says percy, crossing his arms over his chest, displaying the cut on his arm that he didn't have time to heal yet.

'got more to say?' you say.

'yes. you never did actually tell me what I did wrong.' says percy. 'you're mad, I can tell. but you didn't tell me what it was that I did that's made you mad.'

'yes I did. I told you that you need to ignore me when you're sparring. focus all of you attention on the opponent, not me.'

'I can't do that.'

'can't focus on the opponent? I noticed.'

'that's not what I meant!'

'then what do you mean!'

'I meant I can't ignore you when I'm sparring!' says percy loudly. 'I can never ignore you, don't you understand that? whenever you're near you always have my attention, I can never look away. even when you're not near me I'm thinking about you. gods, you're always on my mind because I love you, okay? so I'm sorry if I can't look away from you when I'm sparring!'

you hadn't realised how close you were to each other. now percy's face is close to yours, both of you breathing heavily.

you knew percy liked you, obviously. you wouldn't be staying in his cabin almost every night if he didn't. but this? even though you knew percy had liked you for a long time, you hadn't been together for that long.

'you love me?' you say in a soft voice, feeling your anger and irritation ebb away.

percy closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he just now realises what he said. then he sighs and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there's nothing but sweetness in them.

'yeah. I do.' says percy. 'I've loved you for a long time, actually.'

you smile and want to say something but percy's eyes widen.

'wait, shit, is that too soon? should I have waited to say it? oh gods if I-'

'percy.' you say, shutting him up by stepping even closer to him.

'it's okay. I love you too.' you say.

percy grins and his eyes twinkle. without warning, he puts his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips against yours. he can feel the smile on your lips.

when he pulls back, you're both smiling.

'you still want to go on that walk?' says percy.

'definitely not.' you say.

percy laughs and kisses you again, your argument already forgotten.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

[kaladinkholins]

uhhh thinkin about how mizu and taigen's relationship was described as "this meeting of the minds, this meeting of the swords, that they could not share with anybody else" in one of the netflix articles about the show

and i'm going crazy because YEAH they're both equally invested about swords and fighting in a way that nobody else in their lives are. and that's just. so important considering we're talking about mizu, who sees her sword as her own soul.

and it's not JUST mizu who's obsessed with fighting. taigen is too. cuz like after their duel at the shindo dojo, as taigen is examining his bald spot in the mirror where mizu cut off his hair, he literally interrupts his own turmoil over losing his honour, just to express his awe, openly admiring mizu's skill DESPITE the fact that mizu just beat his ass and stripped his honour and status from him

then in the next episode, mizu says a very similar line when she examines the cut flower that fowler had pinned to heiji shindo's robe.

this was also such a sudden thing to notice in the middle of their conversation (my interpretation of this is that it hints to fowler's own skills with a blade, and gives mizu information about her enemy being a formidable opponent), but the fact that mizu had such a keen eye and managed to hone in on such a tiny detail from like a foot or two away is interesting because it shows us just how attentive mizu is, especially when it comes to blades and anything to do with them

to mizu (when she's not spiralling and agonising over her own self-hatred and the way the world treats her), swords are not a mere tool for revenge, but an art form which she is fascinated by and loves and admires. we see this from time to time, during rare moments of respite, like when she admires the duel in the beginning of ep4

mizu also takes to heart all the teachings from her years training, while taigen is interestingly less strict about them, basically disregarding some of those teachings as mere pedantry, or even if he doesn't actually really think so, he at least tells mizu as much in his attempt to comfort her after her sword breaks

but that doesn't mean he doesn't care for the more formal aspects of his training at all. because in ep3 when he says this

this line about mount sumeru is not talking about the literal mountain in front of them, but is a recitation of a line from the lotus sutra, which is among the mahayana sutras that they learned as part of their spiritual training, as zen buddhism forms a lot of the basis for samurai doctrines and philosophy. the sutra given more emphasis in the show is the heart sutra that mizu writes on her body in ep7 during her rite of rebirth

so taigen saying this line, as i see it, is a way to bond with mizu, or at least make conversation over their shared knowledge, as we see him await a reaction as soon as he says this. but mizu gives him none, and he looks disappointed/annoyed/frustrated or what have you as he watches her walk off without a word

also we see a little more of their shared knowledge of swordsmanship in the last episode when it's clear that mizu has been training ringo in sword fighting techniques

and later taigen recognises it instantly

they're both nerds about swords and fighting!!! they both respect each other's skills!!!

GOD i really hope in future episodes they get to bond some more over their shared passion and common training and just samurai camaraderie in general!!! mizu clearly loves the artistry of sword fighting so much, she deserves to have a confidant who shares that with her, someone she can talk openly about these things to!!!

because like remember when mikio was telling her about the naginata, she looked soooo uwu in love!!! admiring her husband as he showed off the weapon and told her the benefits of using it!!! believing at the time that she'd found a match who she could openly share her love of martial arts with!! she was having so much fun sparring him too. everyone says fighting is part of her love language and YES it IS!!!

except the difference is that mikio—due to, among other things, their large age difference and subsequent gap in life experience—believes he is mizu's teacher, rather than her equal. this is the role he's readily taken throughout their marriage, from teaching her how to throw a knife to cut down fruit (not like she needed that particular lesson), to teaching her equestrian skills.

meanwhile taigen and mizu were both kids growing up poor in the same backwater fishing village, which means that they are and always have been PEERS. and this becomes even more pronounced once taigen is stripped of his giant ego and unlearns his prejudice, allowing them both to fully respect each other and view each other as equals

which is again why it frustrates taigen when mizu admits later in this scene that she basically doesn't care about saving the shogun. like he gets mad because it upends his initial belief in their shared goals and aligned values, believing them both to be samurai of equal standing and honour.

ALSO i'd like to add, that though mizu is the better swordsman as we see her win all their brawls and matches, she doesn't surpass him by that much, and mizu knows this.

these words coming from mizu is such a huge compliment all things considered, acknowledging that he was strong enough to deserve fighting her, because shortly before this mizu was just about to say "no one has given me much of a challenge" only for taigen to enter the scene and, well, challenge her.

now combine this with her saying that chiaki's broken blade suits him well, giving to him HER sword which SHE made AND won, as a surety, promising him a duel that he "deserves". it's proof that even though she finds taigen an annoying brat and oftentimes an obstacle to her mission for revenge, she DOES respect him and does value his skills.

IN CONCLUSION nobody else is on their level, nobody else shares their love of swordsmanship and that is such an important factor to their bond and the way they relate to each other. i rest my case your honour

#mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #taimizu #taizu #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #i caaaant stop thinking about THEM #like im soooo sorry im being annoying and cant shut up about these two #the brainrot is real yall. pray for me in these trying times #shut up haydar #meta dissertations.pdf #fandom.rtf

[twilightangel83]

Hello and good day to all my fellow Legend of Zelda fans!

As you may or may not be aware we in the Legend of Zelda fandom have been having some troubles when it comes to tagging on A03. Mostly that the only tags that seem to be available to tag various Links with was the Linked Universe specific tags. Which led to writers either trying to make their own tags (which no one knew how to find) or inaccurately using Linked Universe Tags. Neither of which were fair to creators writing outside of Linked Universe, or fair to the Linked Universe community (let alone JoJo herself!).

People trying to tag their non-Linked Universe fics were either scrambling to be found or blending their words in with Linked Universe works. And Linked Universe fans who were searching for Linked Universe fics ended up stumbling across fics they weren’t looking for.

So, with that in mind, I reached out to the A03 team in search of a solution. And they have gotten back to me! I am going to post a picture of their reply under the cut, but I will summarize it first.

There (now? I’m not clear if they’ve all existed before) are tags we can use for most of our various Links that aren't Linked Universe. They’re just not tags that go in the “Character” box. Instead, you put Link (Legend of Zelda) in the character box and then one (or more) of these tags into the “Additional Tags” box. The tags are ‘Link from X game’. So, for example: Link from Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom (Legend of Zelda) or Link from Twilight Princess (Legend of Zelda). If you try to put a specific Link in and they don’t exist already you’ll just have to fill it in unfortunately. And the more people use that tag the sooner it will be made into one that’s canonized.

Mind you! These tags should NOT be used for Linked Universe fanfictions. JoJo has explicitly asked that Linked Universe fanworks NOT be tagged with general Legend of Zelda tags. And that is what these are. So please leave these tags for those of us writing outside of Linked Universe.

I did a little experimenting and there seems to be a tag for every game EXCEPT;

“Link from Four Swords Adventures (Legend of Zelda)”,

"Link from Triforce Heroes (Legend of Zelda)",

“Link from The Legend of Zelda (Legend of Zelda)”,

“Link from The Adventures of Link (Legend of Zelda)”, and

“Link from Age of Calamity (Legend of Zelda)”.

There is also no tag for:

“The Hero of Men (Legend of Zelda)” (or whatever title could be used for the hero before Link from The Minish Cap)

But there are Character tags for “Ancient Hero (Legend of Zelda)” and “Hylia’s Chosen Hero (Legend of Zelda)” (who I believe is the First Hero).

The more we, as a fandom, use these tags (especially the ones that aren’t currently searchable) the more readily usable they will be.

#legend of Zelda #the legend of Zelda #linkeduniverse #linked universe #legend of Zelda fandom #loz fandom #loz #a03 #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfictions #tagging #a03 tagging #ao3 tagging #legend of Zelda tagging #loz tagging #fanfiction tagging #the legend of Zelda tagging #proper tagging #tags to use #Link from X game tag #canonized tags #tagging canonizing #we can make the change #tagging correctly #correctly tag your fics #link from