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thebiggerbear · 4 months

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CJ Braxton x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Summary: You had only meant to call once, remaining anonymous while feeling out the whole helpline thing for yourself. Now, you talk to CJ every Friday night around the same time. When you don't call one Friday, CJ is worried and comes looking for you which presents its own host of problems.

Pairing: CJ Braxton x Female!Reader; CJ Braxton x College Student!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I initially wasn't going to write anything for CJ but this idea popped into my head for this prompt and I just had to write it. And I absolutely fell in love with the dynamic between CJ and the reader (and had so much fun with this). Please forgive any timeline tomfoolery or anything time wise that makes you go "huh?"; I was trying to make this work throughout the season from CJ's entry into the show (and his conversation with Jen about the helpline) to the end.

I wasn't much of a Dawson's Creek person back in the day (I still haven't seen seasons 2-5), so I hope this came out alright. I tried to keep it as 2000-ish as possible. I remember back in the day not everyone had a cell phone like Dawson, Audrey, and Pacey (though a lot of people were getting them moving into the beginning of the decade) so that rule kind of applied here so to speak.

This is meant to take place during s6 before Jen joins The Stand.

Warnings: implied sex; panic attacks; implied anxiety

Word Count: 15k+

CJ Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

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You glanced at the clock, seeing it was 6:59. One more minute and you’d pick up the phone as you did every Friday night and make the call you always did. Your nerves thrummed in anticipation as you stared down the clock, willing the numbers to turn.

Eventually, you got your wish and as soon as the 7 appeared on the clock face you picked up the phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart. After a few rings, the call finally connected.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey.”

“There she is.” You could hear his own smile in his tone as he recognized you. “How are you, Jo?”

You winced at the fake name you had given him. At the time, you had quickly scrambled and chose the first name that came to mind. Granted, Joey Potter was in the same school as you so you weren’t too worried about him finding out about either of you seeing as he was from Boston Bay. But as you had talked with him more and more, you really wished you hadn’t given him any name but your own. Even if you were beyond terrified; you felt bad for lying to him.

Why should it matter, right? He was a volunteer counselor for a teen helpline at another college. Why would you care what this one person thought out of you?

Well, unbeknownst to him, you had seen him once and you knew who he was. Thanks to Joey and Audrey’s friendship with Jen, you had come to hear quite a bit about the cute tall guy whose voice made your heart rate speed up way too fast. Jen had even invited him out to a house party and that was when you saw him for the first time. Your nerves got to you and you bounced before one of your friends could make an introduction. Partly because you were afraid he would recognize you from your voice and immediately put a face to the name and possibly be disappointed or worse: he’d know you lied to him. So you avoided him at all costs — well, in person.

It wasn’t like you had planned for this to happen, where you would call a helpline weekly just to speak to a certain boy. That’s not how this started at all.

When you got to Worthington, you were homesick, overwhelmed, and overall terrified. While you eventually eased into the college student lifestyle and Boston was now home, you never really got past the overwhelmed feeling, and terrified had dialed down to being anxious all the time: anxious that you would mess up, anxious that you would fail, anxious that your future wouldn’t turn out the way you planned — all of it. There were days you felt like you were just scraping by, barely making a passing grade (though your final grade usually proved you wrong), and you felt like you were some sort of imposter who was soon to be found out and didn’t really belong. Meeting Joey and her roommate, Audrey Liddell, who lived down the hall from you, helped some, and their introducing you to their group of friends helped even more. But there were still times that you just felt…tightly wound and about to snap. As if you had too many balls in the air and you were about to trip, and all the balls would fall to the ground.

So when Jen mentioned to the group about some guy wanting her to join a teen helpline for the college, you quietly paid attention. She laughed it off — his approach, not the helpline — and she didn’t think she would be right for it so that was that. While everyone else began to talk and laugh about another topic, the wheels in your head slowly started to turn inside your head. A helpline where you could remain anonymous and talk to someone who would listen and could possibly even help. You knew your school most likely had one of those but you wouldn’t even dream of risking it. But a helpline elsewhere where you could talk to someone who maybe understood how you were feeling most of the time, maybe experienced similar things, and you were able to stay anonymous? That you could look into.

After much back and forth in your mind over it, you took the leap and made the call one Friday night after a particularly rough week. You really didn’t think anyone would pick up, it was close to 7:00 and most college kids were either out or getting ready to go out…right?

Before you could answer your own question to yourself, the line connected.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You did what any other person would do; you promptly hung up. You stared at your phone in terror. Someone had picked up. A guy. Just when you were convincing yourself that this was stupid and you needed to take a chill pill and deal.

You argued with yourself in your head for about another minute, hemming and hawing over it all. Wasn’t the whole point of you calling to try to do something about how you’d been feeling? You supposed you could always see a therapist here in town but that could be costly, even with insurance. You also had no desire to tell your parents because they would respond the same way they did the last time you tried to allude to how overwhelmed you were when you had returned home for the summer.

“You should be grateful you got into such a great school, Y/N. Most people would kill to be in your position, going after their degree. You don’t see your classmates moping about, do you? Just because they have classes and homework,” your mother had made sure to prick you with that pin of guilt. “Make the best of it.”

“You know what I think? I think you need to get yourself some friends and then you’ll stop focusing on this so much. If you have nothing to fill your time, of course your mind is going to obsess over what you’re viewing as negative. Try to join a club or a social group. They have keggers all the time. I remember back when I was in college. It was party city every weekend. Maybe let loose a little one of these Saturday nights and things will start to get better. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even make some friends.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you mumbled, tossing your overeasy egg onto its side with your fork, your eyes trained on your plate. You knew he was just trying to help — they both were — but their attitude seemed to imply that you could simply hit an off switch somewhere and you’d stop feeling so overwhelmed. If only.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to take their advice. You had gone to some frat party and it had been one of the worst experiences of your life. You weren’t a big drinker and you weren’t really a party person in general. You didn’t really recognize anyone from your classes or your dorm and the music was so loud, it seemed like a ridiculous notion to try to approach someone and start a conversation. Not something you were very good at anyway. You had no idea how to play the drinking games you saw, other than what you’d seen on TV, and you didn’t want to do something to mess up anyone’s scores if you didn’t do it right. Then some hulk of a guy accidentally knocked into you, deluging you in beer, and he was so drunk, he didn’t even apologize, just kept on going. After about an hour (and the unintended beer bath), you decided to call it quits.

That night, you had gone back to your dorm room which was blissfully empty, taken a hot shower, and then sobbed into your pillow. So much so that when a drunken Audrey accidentally stumbled into your room, she saw your tear-stained face when your head snapped up and immediately asked what was wrong and why you were crying in her room of all things. Despite the back and forth over whose room it actually was and her drunken state along with the slurring of her words, you two actually kind of hit it off. Before long she had you laughing, something you felt like you hadn’t done in some time. She passed out in your roommate’s bed, much to your roommate’s chagrin, but when Audrey’s boyfriend and roommate came to get her the next morning, you figured that had been it. Your one social interaction with someone who didn’t look at you as an unwanted intruder every single day (like your roommate) or like you were some loner weirdo (like most of your classmates). You knew that Audrey would probably either ignore you the next time she ran into you or she wouldn’t remember you at all.

Boy, had you been wrong. The day after her hangover, she had been knocking on your door, smiling and telling you that you were going out with her for the night. Just like that. She introduced you to her roommate, Joey, and their group of friends. You had been inducted into their group of friends, just like that.

Eventually, Jen mentioned the helpline that one night and now here you were, staring at the phone as if it was about to come to life and do a dance or something. You waited a few more minutes, deciding you’d try again and hopefully get someone else. There couldn’t be only one person answering phones at a helpline, could there? That would make for some backed up phone traffic and not a good look for a helpline at all. Maybe you’d be lucky and the guy would have already had another caller he was speaking to so another counselor would have to pick up.

When the clock turned to 7:11, you slowly picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number again. You began to jiggle your leg as you waited for the line to connect.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

Oh crap. You froze.

“Hello?”

What did you do? You wanted to hang the phone up again but you were unable to.

“Hello?” He asked again.

No. You were going to be a mature adult about this and answer him. Just as soon as you could breathe. You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and exhaled a breath.

“Look, if you’re in trouble or can’t talk, just hit a button. Any button will work.” A minute passed while you were trying to breathe, getting ready to talk. “If you don’t have a crisis and you’re not calling to speak to someone here, then I think you should hang up and let other people who need us call in. No use in tying up the phone lines.”

Another minute passed. You really were trying your hardest to get words out but your chest was tight and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your heart was racing yet you were frozen. This happened sometimes but usually you were by yourself, not with someone waiting for you to speak on the other end of the phone line. It also happened a couple of times while you were out with your friends, but usually you hid out in a bathroom stall until it passed and then you left to go back to your dorm with the excuse of a test the next day or a project due, whatever you could come up with on the fly. You didn’t understand why it was happening to you right now, though.

“Alright, I’m going to hang up now.”

You smashed a key on your phone so fast that you heard a loud annoying sound in your ear. Immediately, the guy’s tone changed.

“Okay, I’m here. If you’re in trouble, hit the key again. If you’re not but can’t talk at the moment, don’t hit it.”

You didn’t hit any more keys and gasped for air that just wasn’t coming.

“Good. I’m glad you’re okay. Is someone in the room with you and that’s why you can’t talk? If so, hit the key again.”

You moved over to your bed and laid down. That was the fastest way to get your body to relax when you had the option you’d found out.

“Okay, so you’re alone but you can’t talk but you’re not in trouble. Can you just try to say one word or make a sound so I know you’re really okay?”

You removed your hand from the mouthpiece. “T-Trying,” you rasped out. Holy crap, this was a bad episode you were having. You were completely mortified. Perhaps you really should hang up. You were worried, though, that now he might notify someone or think you really were prank calling the helpline. Either way, you were bound to get in trouble and even more embarrassed, and that just made your chest tighter.

“Okay. That’s good. I’ll take that. Do you have asthma or something similar?”

Great. That’s how bad you’d sounded; he thought you might actually have some sort of breathing issue. Well, technically, you were struggling to breathe right now so it made sense that he would think that but if he only knew the actual answer was something that was beyond ridiculous and couldn’t be explained away as something as serious as asthma.

“No,” you whispered, rubbing at the spot in your chest where a mix of discomfort and a heavy-rock-feeling sat.

“And you’re sure you don’t need to go to the hospital to get checked out?” He sounded concerned now.

“No,” you repeated, staring up at your ceiling, your vision blurring with building tears. All you wanted to do was give this helpline thing a shot since nothing else seemed to be working, and here you had gone and made it so much worse. On top of that, you were frustrated that you couldn’t even do something as simple as answer a person when they said hello on a phone call that you made to them. What was wrong with you?

“Okay. That’s good. Why don’t I talk for a minute so you can relax?” A tear slipped down your cheek when you realized he must have heard your heavy exhales over the phone. “Like I said before, my name is CJ. I’ve been with the helpline for a while now. I’m here four days a week. I try to schedule shifts around my classes and pick up a few extra when I’m able. Before you called, I was doing some reading for my Philosophy class. It’s not my major but I had to take another humanities course. It was that or religion so…philosophy it was.”

You closed your eyes and focused on his voice. It was actually very soothing and it was helping.

“Between you and me, I’m not the best student.” Your eyes opened and you stared at the ceiling, listening intently. “I mean, I do okay in terms of grades, but I’m not exactly a frequent flier on the Dean’s list.” He chuckled and after a moment, he asked, “How about you?”

You swallowed, feeling the slightest bit of easing up on your chest, almost if it was allowing the words through. “I do okay.” You didn’t sound as raspy as before but you still had a faint wheeze at the end. You were coming out of this, slowly but surely.

“That’s good. College sure isn’t easy, by any means. When midterms roll around, I always get a little more stressed. I usually have to blow off some steam to keep it all balanced, you know? Or else I get easily overwhelmed. I have to remind myself to take it one class at a time, one day at a time. But easier said than done sometimes, right?”

“Right.” You knew what he was doing but since it seemed to be helping, you played along. He was getting to the heart of the issue while also giving you time to come back down. You’d only been on the phone with him for close to ten minutes and already you felt much better than you had when the call started.

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

“A little.”

“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Is my being the one to talk helping any?”

“Actually…yeah,” you breathed out.

“Does this happen a lot?”

You bit at your lip, not really wanting to admit it, but you had called for this very reason, hadn’t you? “Yeah.”

“Around midterms or anytime?”

“Anytime.”

“Even when you’re not in school?”

“Sometimes,” you whispered. “But mostly when I’m here.”

“So school related then?”

“Kind of.”

He was quiet for a moment and you wondered if you had said something wrong or if he was looking instructions up in a pamphlet or something for this sort of thing.

“Hey, did you see Phantom Menace when it came out last year?”

That caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected to switch gears so quickly. “Um, no?”

“You’re not a Star Wars fan, I take it?”

He didn’t sound disappointed so you chalked that up to being a good thing. Most guys you’d met either were completely into Star Wars or weren’t into it at all. “I don’t know if I’d call myself a fan but I’ve seen the original movies.”

“Uh oh, you’re not one of those prequel snobs, are you?” He teased.

“No? I just saw the trailer and I wasn’t interested.”

“Well, a buddy of mine and I went to see it when it came out. The theater was packed. I’m talking bursting at the seams.” A small smile started to creep onto your face at his energy. “And when the lights went down and the opening credits started rolling and the music started up, everyone was cheering and clapping. It was pretty awesome. My buddy ended up loving it. He’s the biggest Star Wars fan you’ve ever met.” A moment later he asked, “So besides anything in a galaxy, far far away, have you seen any other movies that came out?”

“I went to see The Green Mile. My, uh, my dad is a big Tom Hanks fan and a Stephen King fan so he really wanted to go.”

“And you?”

“I liked it. Though it was sad.”

“I didn’t see it yet but I got the feeling that it was going to be a bit of a heavy one.”

“It was, but it was worth it.” You noticed then that you were talking to him normally, you were breathing normally, your chest was still a little tight but that was to be expected, and you were sitting up with your back to the wall. You had gotten through your latest episode and this CJ had helped. Perhaps there was something to this helpline thing after all.

“I’m definitely going to check it out then. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Almost as if he had heard your thoughts, he then said, “You sound a lot better than earlier. Hopefully, you’re feeling better, too?”

“Um, yeah.” You anxiously tucked your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. You know, being patient…”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Right.”

“So, you feel up to telling me what’s going on and why you called tonight or did you want to talk about something else?”

You bit at your thumbnail, unsure. “I feel bad. I’ve taken up so much of your time already.” You glanced at the clock and saw that you had been on the phone with him now for almost half an hour.

“Don’t worry about the time and I don’t want you feeling badly.” He sounded completely genuine when he said it and it made you feel a little bit better about monopolizing his time like this. “This is why I’m here. So, if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

You still weren’t certain you should take him up on his offer. “Are you sure? What if there’s someone else who needs to call in who is having an actual crisis and you’re stuck on the phone with me? I would feel bad if they didn’t get to talk to you when they needed to because of me.”

“I’m not the only one here so if someone else does call in, they’ll speak to one of the other counselors who can help them. While we’re on the subject, what you’re experiencing is just as valid as what anyone else might be experiencing. I’m not stuck on the phone with you, I want to be talking with you and try to help you in any way I can. And yes, I’m sure.”

You contemplated it, turning it over and over in your brain. This was why you called. This was why you decided to give the helpline a try, to speak to a stranger who would listen and possibly be able to help you and if not, at least maybe understand where you were coming from. If he was willing (and he had been helpful so far), then why not?

“Would it help if I promise not to make any more Star Wars references?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Tremendously.”

“Deal,” he laughed. You liked the sound of his laugh; it was warm, inviting, and put you instantly at ease. This CJ seemed to know what he was doing and you could now see why people called in to speak to him and other counselors like him.

You nervously licked your lips and decided to take the plunge. You told him everything. You told him about how it started when you began college, how the classes and workload immediately overwhelmed you. How you struggled to keep from drowning in assignments and tests and projects and papers. How you started to develop these episodes and how badly you felt during them. How you had tried to talk to your parents but they just didn’t seem to hear you, dismissing it as an issue that would be resolved by you being more outgoing and feeling more grateful that you had such an educational opportunity when many didn’t. How you could be in a room full of a hundred people and still feel completely alone, especially when an episode kicked in. You’d even told him about your failed attempt at attending the frat party. He had rarely talked, giving you the floor, but he had interjected a couple of times to either support you or make some helpful suggestions. Other than that, he just listened. By the time you finished, you felt like you had told him your whole life story, but you had to admit that you felt a lot better once you got it all off your chest, which incidentally, was feeling lighter. And this time, someone listened and actually heard you. That made all the difference.

You glanced at the clock for the first time in a long time and noted it was 10:16. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your cheeks immediately heating up. Had you really been talking nonstop for over three hours? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I should let you go so you can speak to other callers.”

“My shift ended fifteen minutes ago actually.”

Your heart stopped and however much better you’d been feeling, felt like it went right down the drain. How could you have been so self-absorbed and only concerned with your problems that you’d talked his ear off and used up his whole shift? Not one other person got to talk to him tonight and you didn’t even go to that school. Seriously, how selfish were you? “I-I’m so, so sorry. You should have stopped me or told me there was a time limit per call.” You were full on babbling now. “I didn’t mean to— I am so beyond sorry. I’m going to let you go. Thank you so much for your help and I hope you have a good rest of your night. Don’t worry. I promise I won’t call again. Good night.”

You went to hang up the phone when you heard loudly, “Please don’t hang up.”

You put it back to your ear, your brows drawing together in confusion. “But you said your shift was over.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “But that’s okay. If I wanted you to stop talking, I would have said something. And did I ask you to stop?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then I didn’t want you to stop talking. It seems like there’s a lot on your plate at the moment or else you wouldn’t have called, right?”

“Okay, yeah. But—”

“So it’s good that you called and I’m glad I was able to help. And for the record, there’s no time limit on a call.” Someone said something to him in the background and he quietly responded though you couldn’t hear what he said. “I’m actually gonna get going because my replacement is here and they don’t have another place to sit.”

“Right. Of course. Again, sorry.”

“But,” he continued. “I’m going to be here Monday afternoon around 2 so if you want to call back then we can talk again.”

“I have class then.” You truly did but even if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be calling him back. You had taken up enough of his time.

“I’m here until 6:00 that day.”

“I have a study session after that class.” Okay, maybe that was a lie. “But I appreciate the offer. Thank you and have a good—”

“I’m back on again next Friday. Same time. Why don’t you call me then if you’re free?”

“I appreciate it, CJ, but don’t worry. If I need the helpline again, I’ll call, but you helped me a lot tonight and I feel better so…I won’t need to call. Again, I’m sorry I monopolized your shift.”

“Do me a favor and call me again anyway, even if you are feeling better. I’d like to check in with you and the only way I can do that is if you call me back.”

“Right. Being anonymous and all,” you mumbled. Thank God for that. You didn’t think your embarrassment at talking his head off for over three hours while you complained about your life would ever go away.

“Yeah. So, please, if you can call me next week, same time, even if you just tell me you’re feeling better and hang up. That’s all I ask.”

You supposed you could do that, after he’d generously taken the time to hear you out, after he’d helped you through your episode. “Okay.”

“Friday, 7:00. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

And so had begun the tradition of you calling him every Friday night at 7:00. You hadn’t intended for that to happen, honestly. But each time you would talk to him, ranging in times from twenty minutes to an hour and a half (you refused to ever get near that three hour mark again, no matter what he said), he would always ask you to call him back the following week, making you promise that you would. Over time, you noticed that your overwhelmed feeling had lessened considerably (though not completely gone) and instead of having an episode (or panic attack as CJ called them) twice weekly, they had now diminished to one every couple of weeks. And even then they weren’t as bad as they had been, thanks to the techniques CJ suggested you try using. Things had gotten better for you and you had to admit, the helpline definitely was a useful service for students, though for your own personal experience, you attributed a lot of that to CJ.

Speaking of which, that was how you two began to get to know one another, moving from strictly counselor and caller into a tentative friendship. When initially speaking to him, he began to feel like a friend you were just catching up with on how your past week had been, and then it actually sort of became that. He started to tell you more details about himself and now you knew what type of music he liked, what he was majoring in, where he had grown up, and why he had joined The Stand. He had even shared his backstory with you and why he didn’t drink when you told him how uncomfortable college parties made you in general. The conversation was no longer one-sided and you’d come to like it that way.

Until the day came when he asked your name.

“My name?”

“Well, yeah, so I know what to call you. It feels weird calling you “you” all the time,” he laughed.

“Um…” You were practically crapping bricks. You didn’t expect this.

“Just your first name. You’ll still be anonymous,” he reassured. “It could be a nickname if you want. Or your middle name. Just something.”

You ran over it in your mind. What if he still somehow managed to find out who you were if you gave him only your first name? Sure, you weren’t going to the same schools, but what if somehow someway…? Plus, your friends weren’t exactly fans of CJ right now. Apparently, Jen had a major crush on him but her hopes were dashed when he told her he didn’t date (something he had told you long before you heard it via your friends) and then hooked up with Audrey the same night. You hadn’t been there that night, opting to stay in and study for a huge test you had coming up in your Lit class, and after hearing that not only had CJ been present but also what happened, you were glad you had made that decision. Audrey and Joey were on the outs thanks to the events of that night and now so were Jen and Audrey once it was revealed that CJ and Audrey had slept together, right before Pacey punched his face in.

When that Friday rolled around, you almost didn’t call him. You were angry and hurt yourself. Angry because his careless actions had hurt more than one of your friends, and hurt because truth be told, you had started to crush on him yourself from afar. You trusted him with the details of your life, very personal details (without giving specifics obviously), and he’d helped you. How could he be this helpful, compassionate guy working at a helpline but turn out to be this scummy, advantage-taking, selfish player? You couldn’t reconcile in your head the CJ you were getting to know with the CJ your friends saw.

“That’s just the thing, Y/N,” Jen told you when you wondered aloud how a helpline counselor could do something like he had with your friends. “Most people who go into those positions to help other people are usually a thousand times more screwed up than the people they’re helping. Audrey’s been hurting, as you know, and she’s been acting out and he saw an opportunity. Case closed.” But it wasn’t case closed for you. Not by a mile. You wanted answers, but how could you get them while remaining anonymous?

So that following Friday at 7:00, as you angrily punched in the helpline number, you had no idea how you would do it but you were determined to get them. And if you didn’t like what you heard, then this would be your last call and you would close the book on CJ and your budding friendship for good.

It caught you off guard, though, when you heard a different voice this time.

“Hello, Helpline. This is David.”

You nearly hung up. You knew David; he was starting to hang out with your group more and more, especially Jack. What if he recognized your voice?

“Hello?”

You forced yourself to ask the burning question on the tip of your tongue, albeit with a slightly higher pitch of voice. “Hi, is CJ there?”

“No, I’m sorry.” You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and let out a sigh of relief. Whether it was because David didn’t recognize you or you didn’t have to confront CJ right this second, you couldn’t be sure. Probably a bit of both. “He called out sick and asked me to fill in for him. He should be back next week, though.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call then. Thank you.” You quickly hung up before he could ask you anything else.

The next Friday you called, you got CJ.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding relieved when he heard your voice. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” You were standing in your dorm room, staring out the window and watching the rain, your arms crossed. You weren’t as angry as last week, the extra time allowing you to let a cooler head prevail, but you still wanted answers. “How are you?”

“Honestly? I’ve been better.”

“I’m sorry. I know you were sick last week. Has it not gotten any better?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was feeling lousy and just needed to take a day, you know?” And he didn’t need to be parading around a still-healing black eye that might prompt questions, you bet.

“I get that.”

“God, I wish I had your number outside of this so I could call you.” Your jaw tightened. Perhaps your friends were right; there was a whole other side to him. A side you didn’t really want to get to know. “I really could’ve used a friend to talk to.”

You unclenched your jaw when you realized he wasn’t hitting on you and when you thought about it, he sounded genuinely miserable and he never had in any of your previous conversations, even when your friendship formed. It was unlike him, or at least the CJ you had gotten to know. Just like this behavior your friends had told you about sounded unlike him. “Well, I’m here now, if you want to talk.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make this about me. You called in to talk, not to hear about my problems,” he laughed, sounding nervous. That was a first.

“I’m sure. What are friends for?”

He told you everything while not naming anyone. He didn’t hold back anything and you realized that while he didn’t know who you were, he was giving you the side that had been missing from the story your friends told you: his side. Every side has a story after all. He admitted he had messed up big time. He had hurt Jen (or Blondie as he called her), he had been an ass to Pacey (or The Guy Who Punched My Face) when he had no right to be, and he should have never hooked up with Audrey (or The Girl That Came Out of Nowhere). Apparently, Jen had said to him the same thing she said to you and it got him thinking, along with some things Audrey had said. He felt like a huge jerk and all he wanted to do was keep his head down and move forward, get back on the right track that his life had been headed in. You stayed silent as he talked and before you knew it, the clock read 9:47.

“Your shift is over soon,” you whispered once he was done.

“Yeah, but I still have a few minutes. So what do you think? Am I a complete jackass or what?” He let out another nervous chuckle.

You briefly pressed your lips together as you thought of how best to answer that. In the end, you were as honest as you could be without giving yourself away. “I think we all make mistakes sometimes. But as long as we recognize them, apologize to those we’ve hurt, and try to do better, then that’s all that matters. So no, not a complete jackass.”

This time when he laughed, it sounded relieved. “Thanks.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for,” you repeated his words back to him, teasing him slightly.

A moment of silence passed between you before he asked, “Will you call again next week?”

That made you do a double take. He never asked you to call the following week like that. Usually he asked in the form of making you promise you would call or he’d tell you he’d talk to you the following week. But when he asked like this, he sounded uncertain, vulnerable. You knew then that more than just his face and ego had been hurt by recent events. Perhaps you were a fool but you believed his remorse to be genuine.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’ll call next week.”

And when you did, he immediately hit you with the name question.

“Earth to you…” He called, snapping you out of it and reclaiming your attention. “See? It doesn’t really work,” he laughed.

You had to be careful here. Not only because you didn’t want him to find out who you were but also because if your friends ever found out, especially Audrey…you were toast.

You opened your mouth to give him the name of a classmate that couldn’t be traced back to you but “Jo” came tumbling out instead.

“Jo?”

Oh crap. You had Audrey and then Joey on your mind and it just slipped out. Crap, crap, crap. “Yeah,” you lied. “Jo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jo.” You could practically hear him smiling, happy to have gotten a name out of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, angry with yourself. “Nice to meet you, too,” you mumbled before you dropped your head into your hands.

So now here you were, him thinking you were Jo from the college he was attending, and you were calling him every single week at the same time like clock work. You had long ago stopped questioning the morality of what you were doing and it seemed that he didn’t appear to question it at all. He was always happy to hear from you and your conversations were more personal now. You couldn’t deny the way your heart rate spiked every time you heard his voice when he picked up the call or how whenever his name was mentioned in passing by David or Jen (though rare these days), you would specifically tune in, listening for anything that had to do with him. You had it bad and you knew it, but it was also a safe crush from a distance and would be staying that way.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your reverie and remembered CJ has asked you a question. “I’m good. Really good. How about you?”

“Really good, huh? I’m happy to hear it and happy to be hearing from you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I got that paper back and you were so right, The Writing Center really helped. I can’t believe I never thought to try it before. Thank you so much for that idea.”

“I’m happy to be of service,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it helped. And the club thing? Did you give that a try as well?”

Your smile dropped. He had been trying to urge you to join a club or a group where you had shared interests with other students. His theory was that if you gave a small group of people a shot doing a social activity you might enjoy, that it might help decrease your nervousness in other social settings. Even though you told him you had a group of friends you regularly met up with, he didn’t think expanding your social circles would be a bad thing to consider. “No? I told you, CJ, that’s not really my thing.”

“I get that, I do. How about this? If you want, I could meet you at Student Activities and we could take a look around together, get some info. No pressure, of course, but you wouldn’t have to walk in there alone. I know it can be a bit much sometimes. I remember my first semester here and I didn’t know where to stick my head.”

You froze. That was the first time he’d ever mentioned the possibility of you meeting in person. Perhaps if you were really Jo from Boston Bay College, you could take him up on it or give him your number like he’d asked you for or call his room number like he’d offered up a few times now so you could talk outside of the helpline. But you weren’t and so you had to decline. “I appreciate the offer but it’s not my thing so I’m going to have to pass. Sorry, but thank you, though.”

“If you’re sure.” He sounded slightly disappointed but maybe that was just you imagining it.

“Yep, I’m sure. Uh, so listen, I can’t stay on long. My roommate and her boyfriend will be here in less than ten so I’m gonna go so I can get out of here before I get hit by the clothes hurricane that’s most likely to happen.” It was a complete lie. Your roommate, Stacey, had actually gone to visit her boyfriend for the weekend. You would have peace and quiet and the dorm to yourself for two whole days.

He chuckled good-naturedly. “I don’t blame you. If you get bored later, I’m here at The Stand until 10:00, like you already know, and then I’ll be back in my room. You can call me then if you want to talk. I”ll be up for a while so don’t worry about calling too late.”

“Oh. Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that.” You weren’t going to and he knew you weren’t going to. You hadn’t the last two times he’d made the same offer and the last two times you’d given him the same response.

“Jo?”

“Yeah?”

“If I don’t hear from you… Call next week, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling, like always. You said your quick goodbyes and you hung up, letting out a heavy breath. While he had been urging you to contact him personally, he had never mentioned meeting him before. That was different. And it worried you at the same time. Why the offer now? Granted, he was just trying to be helpful to you, given the context, but what if he began to find other ways to work it in like he already had about your phone numbers? What if he continued to push to meet Jo?

You shook your head, telling yourself that you were doing it again, worrying over things that might not happen. You would cross that bridge when you came to it, something CJ had once said to you that you kept for yourself as your own personal mantra. You would wait to see how next week would go.

But unfortunately, the call never happened.

You had been out with Jack and David on Thursday night at Hell’s Kitchen, when Jen waltzed in, smiling and taking a seat. Joey and Emma were working and Pacey was supposed to join you later.

“You worked late today,” Jack commented.

“Training took a little bit longer than expected. We were supposed to be done at 6:00 but then our relief called and said they were going to be late. Of course, since CJ was going to stay, I wasn’t going to just leave him there.” Your ears perked up at the mention of CJ. You knew Jen was training as a counselor and he was the one training her. Jen had begrudgingly forgiven CJ but it was also obvious to you all that she still had a crush on him. While you couldn’t blame her, you also felt for her. CJ told you that he had to make it clear once more to Blondie that he wasn’t looking to date though he was happy she had finally started training at the helpline. He really believed she would make a great counselor once she settled into it.

Talk about complicated. Jen was your friend and you didn’t want to see her get hurt, but you could also understand if CJ didn’t see her that way, he just didn’t. They were both your friends now and you just wanted them both to be happy, whatever that looked like.

“But then, listen to this,” she continued. “Our relief, this guy named Seth, sees me there with CJ and starts teasing him about how he’s racking up all of these beautiful girls through the helpline, not leaving any for him.”

“Jen,” Jack warned.

“No, listen. This is good. You’re going to like this.”

Jack sighed but let her finish.

“CJ laughs it off but then Seth mentions how he has this girl calling him every Friday night, around the same time, and she talks his ear off for hours.”

You were about to take a bite of your french fry when you froze. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“And so I ask if this is true and CJ says that we’re there to help everybody, time limits aren’t a thing, and it doesn’t matter how many times a caller calls back or they speak to the same counselor. As long as they get the help they need.”

“He’s right,” David chimed in.

“But then Seth starts teasing him again and asks if CJ can give him tips on how to get dates using the helpline. CJ laughs and says sure. I mention how he said he wasn’t looking to date and Seth says he tells every girl that so he doesn’t have to commit but can still get what he wants.” You dropped your fry back into your basket, trying to ignore the rolling nausea in your stomach.

“I don’t know about that,” David chuckled nervously.

“He didn’t deny it, David. He just laughed and walked away. Can you believe it? He’s using the helpline to get girls. Talk about abusing the system, not to mention the absolute lack of morality.” You definitely felt like you were going to be sick. “I quit. If that’s what guys like him and Seth are using that helpline for then I don’t want any part of it. And CJ? Audrey was right. He’s a skeevy player. I can’t believe I didn’t see it this whole time.” Jen shook her head. You were getting that all-too familiar falling feeling again.

“Wait, seriously? Guys are using the helpline to pick up girls?” Jack turned to David.

“No. Jen, I’m sure Seth was just kidding and CJ was just playing along. Nobody is using the helpline to pick anyone up. Everyone that works there knows the rules and they’re there to help callers. How could they pick anyone up, anyway? It’s all anonymous.”

“Yeah, but if they pushed for a date or something… It could happen.” You immediately felt your stomach jolt and like someone had punched you in the gut at the same time.

“It could,” David agreed. “But I doubt it does.”

“He has the same girl calling him every single week at the same time. What would keep her calling like that?” Jen interjected. You glanced away from the table for a moment, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer David would give.

“Is that true? Every week?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“It’s true,” David confirmed. “I actually got her once when CJ was out sick. She sounded nice.” If you could have, you would have given him a smile, thankful for David’s attempt to defend CJ and the helpline and unknowingly you. But right then, you were trying not to hyperventilate. “And CJ appears to be helping her. He said she’s made a lot of progress since they started talking.”

“He talked to you about her?” Jen looked shocked. Oh God. Your chest started to feel tight.

“Only because he was going to be out sick that one day and in case she called and then decided to talk to me, he wanted me to be up to speed in case she needed something. That’s all.”

“I feel badly for this girl. She probably thinks CJ is some great guy and she can trust him but based on what Seth said, he’s simply playing the long game with her. A girl whose trust he’s taking advantage of. I’m telling you, Audrey was right about him and I should’ve seen it.” Jen rubbed at her forehead. It was beyond hot in here and even though it wasn’t crowded, the room started to feel smaller.

“I don’t think that’s true, Jen,” David defended. “I don’t think he’s looking to take advantage of this girl at all. I think he truly wants to help her.”

“Yeah, that’s how it started with Audrey and look at how that turned out.” David dropped his gaze to his food, continuing to poke at it with his fork. There wasn’t much he could say to that though he wished he still would. “And if that’s true, he only wants to help her, then why was he laughing along when Seth talked about her and how she keeps him on the phone for hours? How is that helping her?”

You felt like your feet were locked in cement but your legs were wobbling to and fro. And yet you also felt like a large boulder was now sitting on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. How could any of this conversation be happening right now?

Jack glanced from David to Jen. “Perhaps David’s right, Jen. Maybe he was just playing along. That’s what guys do sometimes. You know that.”

“I don’t think that’s what that was. Either way, I quit.”

Jack and David started to urge her not to quit, but at that point you’d had enough. Your hands were clammy and you felt that feeling on your forehead, too. You needed cold, and air. “Excuse me,” you nearly rasped out and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. You could feel your dinner coming back up. Joey stopped you in your trek.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

You shook your head and dodged past her, hurrying to the bathroom. Once you reached it, you locked the door and pushed into a stall just in time. You emptied the contents of your stomach and once you were finished, you made your way towards the sink, splashing cold water on your face. You could feel the panic attack you were having and you tried your best to ward it off but to no avail.

You slid down the wall and struggled to breathe, trying the techniques CJ had taught you. You didn’t want to think about him right now but you also didn’t want to be having this happen while your friends sat right outside. Not to mention, you knew Joey was going to come check on you. You gasped for air and rubbed at your chest. Once it passed, you unlocked the door, made excuses to Joey and your friends, went home, showered, and cried yourself to sleep. For the first time in a while, you’d had a particularly bad episode and ended the night in tears: two things you hadn’t done since you’d started talking to CJ regularly. You felt as if all the progress you’d made was like a house of cards that fell to the ground after one card was pulled out from under you. And all because you’d trusted the wrong person.

So you stopped calling and instead, spent your Friday nights at the library, studying, so you wouldn’t be tempted to pick up the phone and call to confront the guy who’d betrayed your trust.

<-->

A few weeks later, you were sitting on Joey’s bed, watching Audrey unload her closet onto her mattress. Apparently, she was going to rehab, for real this time. She was ready to confront the fact that her drinking was out of control. Joey was helping her sort through everything and handed you things to fold and place in her suitcase. Eddie had already taken one heavy suitcase down to the car, along with a very high Bob.

You all looked up when there was a polite knock on their dorm room door. Joey got up to answer it, most likely thinking it was Eddie, but when she opened the door, it revealed another guy altogether.

There stood CJ, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a jacket covering his tall frame. Your heart skipped a beat before falling into your stomach but then leaping back into place and pounding faster than before for a whole other reason. You immediately grabbed a magazine from the nightstand and began sifting through it, your jaw clenched and you refusing to look in his direction.

Before anyone could say a word, Audrey groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw CJ hold up a placating hand in her direction. “I’m not here for you, okay? I’m actually looking for someone.”

You froze.

“I bet you are,” Audrey grumbled.

Joey crossed her arms. “Who?”

“A girl by the name of Jo who lives in this building.”

You mentally cursed yourself. You knew you had let the name of your dorm building slip once by accident but he hadn’t appeared to have heard you so you thought you were in the clear; apparently, he had heard you. Crap.

Joey tensed. Uh oh. You had a feeling this was going to come back to haunt you at some point. Here it was. “Why are you looking for me?”

CJ’s brow drew together. “You’re Jo?”

Audrey was suddenly at Joey’s side. “Yeah, why are you looking for her?”

“Jo is a girl who called the helpline. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks and I just wanted to check on her.”

Her distaste for CJ forgotten, Audrey turned in shock to her roommate. “Joey Potter, you called the helpline?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous, Audrey.” Joey then looked at CJ. “I don’t know who this girl is but it’s not me. Good luck in your search.” She went to close the door but CJ stopped her.

“Wait, so you’ve never heard of a girl named Jo who lives in this building?”

“No,” Audrey snapped. “Now, go away.”

“Hold on a second. Because Joanna Martin who lives on the 2nd floor isn’t her and has never heard of her. Now you’re saying you’re not her and you’ve never heard of her either?”

Audrey gave him a nasty smirk. “Imagine that. A girl using a fake name calling an anonymous helpline. She probably knows what a sleazeball you are and didn’t want you stalking her. If she was calling the helpline, she’s probably got enough on her plate. Best of luck, Stalker Boy.”

Audrey went to shut the door in his face but again, he stopped it.

“I don’t really care what you think of me. You want to think I’m the bad guy in everything that happened with us? That’s fine. But I’m actually trying to find this girl to help her.”

“Help her into your bed, you mean.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, I bet it is but whatever.” Audrey rolled her eyes and turned back to you. “Y/N, have you ever heard of this girl he’s looking for?”

Your eyes snapped up to them and all three of them were now staring at you, waiting for your answer. Crap. CJ was looking right at you. Double crap. You shook your head and went back to your magazine.

“There you go. No one here has heard of her. Buh-bye now.”

Audrey was closing the door when Joey’s phone started to ring. Joey, who had gone back into the whirlwind of clothes, looked over at you. “Hey, can you get that? Eddie might be calling from his cell phone.”

You nodded and picked up the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. Can I talk to Joey? Audrey’s friend, Bob, is getting a little impatient down here.”

“Sure. One sec.” You handed the phone to Joey. “It’s Eddie.” She took it and began rolling her eyes when Eddie was most likely telling her the same thing he had just told you. She came over, zipped up the suitcase you had been working on after dumping more things into it. “Do you mind taking this to Eddie downstairs? He’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Sure thing.” You tossed the magazine back onto the night stand and grabbed the suitcase handle, picking it up and placing it on its wheels. You slipped your worn paperback copy of your book into the back pocket of your jeans, intent on returning it to your room when you came back up. Now that you knew CJ was trying to track you down and he was in the building, you didn’t feel comfortable having any clues pointing to your identity out in the open like that.

You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and began to pull it along. “Oh my God, Aud. Do you really need this many outfits?”

She looked up from her cell phone and gave you a smile. “Of course. Rehab is bound to be drab so I’m going to make it fab.” She shot you a wink and opened the door for you.

You laughed and shook your head, crossing over the threshold. You made your way to the elevator and pushed the button. While you were waiting, you heard behind you, “Need some help with that?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. CJ was right there, behind you, talking directly to you. While a part of you wanted to tell him to take a hike, your desire for anonymity was greater. You turned and gave him a wan smile, shaking your head. His green eyes were intent on you and you didn’t care for that one bit. It was like he knew who you were without you even having to say it. Luckily, at that moment, the elevator dinged and the door opened. You went to roll the suitcase onto it when a hand picked it up out of nowhere.

“Let me give you a hand,” CJ offered, not waiting for you to reply and stepping into the elevator. You paused for a moment, considering not getting onto it with him but Eddie was expecting you and Joey and Audrey were waiting for you to come back. You let out a quiet sigh and stepped inside, hitting the button for the Lobby and waiting for the doors to close.

Once they did and you started descending, CJ glanced over at you. “So, Jo, were you planning on ever calling me again?”

Your heart started to pound but you forced yourself to remain cool as a cucumber, hoping he wouldn’t recognize your voice. You arched a questioning brow up at him. “I don’t know who you think I am but my name’s Y/N. Sorry to disappoint.” You turned back to the door.

“The Green Mile book in your back pocket says otherwise.”

Crap. You tried to think quickly. “That’s just a book I’m reading for class.” You decided to channel Audrey, the queen of mean when she wanted to be; perhaps that would get him to leave you alone. The doors were opening and you turned to give him a smirk. “NIce try, though, Sherlock. Better get back to Watson before he misses you.” You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and nearly stormed out of the elevator.

CJ was suddenly at your side. “I know it’s you. Why are you trying so hard to act like it’s not?”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore him. Thankfully, Eddie came into sight, rushing to get the suitcase.

“Thank you, thank you.” He picked it up and gave you a look. “About how many more of these are coming down, do you think?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. She has a lot of outfits. Joey’s got her work cut out for her.”

Eddie groaned and then noticed CJ standing next to you. “Good to see you again, man.”

“Likewise.”

Eddie glanced between you and CJ before walking away. Great. He was bound to mention that to Joey who would most likely question you about it later thanks to CJ’s impromptu appearance earlier. You spun on your heel and headed back to the elevator, punching the button.

CJ was suddenly next to you. “What happened? Why did you stop calling?” He quietly asked you.

You didn’t answer him, just kept staring straight ahead, your jaw clenched.

He leaned in slightly, his voice even quieter. “Did I make you nervous by offering to meet you? I was only trying to help. Nothing funny, I promise.”

When the doors opened, you stepped inside and of course, he followed you. The doors closed and your ride up began.

“Are you going to talk to me or just keep ignoring me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know your voice. It’s you.” After another quiet moment, he begged, “Would you please just talk to me? What happened?”

You shook your head.

“Something obviously happened to make you stop calling. So, talk to me. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You glared over at him. “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please stop bothering me.” CJ looked as if you’d slapped him for a moment and you felt guilty but then you immediately remembered what Jen had said that night at the bar.

He gave you a curt nod and turned to face the door. Once it opened, you went to step out when he lifted the book out of your back pocket.

“Hey! Give that back!” He held it out of your reach, opening it to find the note from your dad on the inside page that he’d written after he bought it for you. Why did you have to mention that in your phone conversations? That was a dead giveaway that yes, Jo was indeed you. How could you have been so stupid?

CJ gestured to the note. “Tell me again how it’s not you.”

You snatched the book out of his hands and hurried down the hall to your room. You would’ve gone back to Audrey’s and Joey’s room, but you were afraid he’d out you to them. Even if they didn’t believe him, you still remembered Audrey’s reaction when she thought it might be Joey for a moment and the latter’s response.

“Y/N, wait,” CJ begged behind you. “Please, can we just talk for a minute?” You were unlocking your door when he was right next to you. “Just one minute. Please. That’s all I’m asking. Then, if you want, you’ll never see or hear from me again.”

You mulled it over for a moment. You could do one minute, you supposed, and get this over with. You glanced up at him and nodded, pretending not to see the relief that filled his expression. You opened the door and then held it open wider for him to follow.

You saw your roommate sitting on her bed, talking on the phone to her boyfriend. “Stace,” you interrupted. “Can you give us a minute?”

She frowned. “I’m kind of in the middle of—”

“I need the room.” Your tone brooked no argument. You surprised her; usually, you kept to yourself and never really stood up to her if she got mean or demanding. But you were not in the mood for any of her crap right then. You were at your limit.

Stacey scoffed but got to her feet. “One second, babe.” She glared at you, which you were more than happy to return, and then turned it onto CJ as well. “Boys aren’t allowed to stay up here so make it quick. You know the rules.”

You huffed out a snort. “The rule you break almost every other night? Got it, Stace, thanks for looking out.” You practically shut the door in her scowling face. You turned to find CJ’s eyes trained on you.

“So that’s the roommate, huh?” You shrugged. “Exactly how I pictured her, scowl and everything.”

You didn’t laugh at his joke and instead, crossed your arms. ��You wanted to talk?”

He pressed his lips together and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “Why did you stop calling?”

You wanted to tell him the truth but it also seemed best to just get him out of there as soon as possible. He knew who you really were now and that was a problem. Especially if your friends found out you were the girl that had been calling him every week. Because sooner or later, they would want to know why and you weren’t ready to talk about that or have them look at you funny. You knew they’d be supportive, especially Joey and Audrey, but you also knew things would change. And you weren’t quite ready for that to happen.

“I’ve been doing better so there was no need. You should know, you made me your pet project after all.” You didn’t mean to be harsh but you were still angry.

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“You know. I’m the girl who calls you every week to talk your ear off and keeps you on the phone for hours. The girl you’ve supposedly been trying to pick up through the helpline, though apparently I’m not the only one.”

His eyes widened. “Y/N, that’s not true at all. I don’t use the helpline to pick up girls or try to get dates. I don’t date, you know I don’t. I don’t know who told you that but it’s not true.”

“But the other part is?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Because that’s how your buddy Seth put it, the way Jen tells it.”

CJ huffed out a mirthless laugh, rubbing at his forehead and giving a nod. “Jen. That’s who you heard this from.”

“Don’t even,” you snapped. “David also mentioned how you told him all about me and my issues.” You used quotation marks on the last word.

His hand dropped. “Okay, first off, you don’t have issues, no more than anybody else around here, myself included. Second, I only told David because I was going to be out that one night. I wanted to make sure if you called in that you were taken care of. That’s it. David is one of our better counselors, he’s a friend, and I trust him completely.”

Your jaw tightened. “That still doesn’t explain why Seth would even say anything like that. And you laughed! You stood there and laughed as this guy, who I don’t know by the way, is turning me calling you for help into a joke! Is that what I am? The joke at the office? Does everyone there know how I’ve been calling you every week and boring you to death with my problems?”

“What? No! You’re not a joke. And you’re not—”

“Really? Because it sure sounded like it to me based on what Jen said.”

“Okay, let’s get something straight. You’re not boring me to death when you call, you’re not talking my ear off, or keeping me stuck on the phone with you, or anything else that someone else might have said. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to be there for you and try to help. Then when we started talking about more than that, I wanted to talk to you even more. If I didn’t want to talk to you at all, if you were such a nuisance, then why would I ask you to call back every week or give you my phone number even?”

“But you weren’t trying to pick me up.”

“No, I wasn’t. I wanted to be available to you if you needed to talk to me outside of the hours I had at The Stand.”

“Yeah, because I was your pet project.”

“No, you weren’t and why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Isn’t that what you do, though? Isn’t that why you tracked me down? Isn’t that why you kept trying to get my number and even suggested we meet though the helpline’s supposed to be anonymous? You look for girls who are messed up and try to be their white knight. It gives you some sort of satisfaction, some twisted sense of purpose… That’s what happened with Audrey, right?” Again, he looked like you slapped him but this time, you didn’t feel guilty. You were only speaking the truth. He had told you how much he wanted to help Audrey and how somehow they ended up in bed together and before he knew it, he really liked her and wanted to see more of her. In the end, he’d admitted to you that it might have been him confusing his desire to help her with his interest in her. That maybe Audrey had been right in what she’d said.

You watched as his shoulders deflated slightly and he let out a heavy breath, hanging his head. You bit your lip and glanced away from him, not wanting to see him look so defeated. You had to be strong, you had to stand up for yourself and not let him or anyone else take advantage of you. That was the silent vow you’d made to yourself after you’d cried yourself to sleep that night you found out how you were being used and made a mockery of.

“I tracked you down because I was worried,” he spoke softly. You turned back to find him staring at you, remorse radiating from him. You felt slightly bad for hurting him but you had said nothing but the truth, from his own lips. “It wasn’t like you not to call so I thought maybe something happened or maybe I made you nervous with that last call. Like I said, I gave you my number because I wanted to be there for you anytime you needed me, even if I wasn’t working. So this way you always had a way to get a hold of me if you needed to. I only asked for yours because I did like talking to you and I thought we were becoming friends. I know that’s not the norm for the helpline and it’s never happened before, to me or to anyone else that I know of, but like I said, I enjoyed talking to you. I only offered to meet you at Student Activities that day because you seemed nervous to try it alone and I didn’t want you to feel like that. I would’ve made that offer to anyone that needed it.” He nervously licked his lips. “I do like you but it has nothing to do with my wanting to help you or make sure you’re okay. I made a mistake with Audrey but I learned from it. I told you that.” He sighed before continuing. “I like you, Y/N, because you’re funny and smart and kind. Even if we didn’t meet through the helpline, I still would have liked you once I got to talk to you, once I got to know you better. That’s the truth.”

He turned to leave when he stopped suddenly. “By the way, Seth is the guy who usually relieves me on Friday nights. That’s how he knew about you calling every week. He always liked to razz me about being on the phone with you since I made him fifteen minutes late for his shift that one time. I only laughed because it was obvious he was showing off for Jen, that he likes her, and I was trying not to embarrass him in front of her. I did end up talking to him later about it, though, and asked him not to mention it again in front of her or anyone else. He agreed; he’s not a bad guy.” He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened. If you call the helpline again and want to talk to someone else, I understand. If you don’t want to call at all, I understand that, too. Just…take care of yourself, alright?”

You averted your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears building in them, and you gave him a curt nod. You only looked up again when the door snicked closed. You pretended a tear didn’t suddenly roll down your cheek and you told yourself that you had done the right thing. Though it certainly didn’t feel like it in the moment, deep within your chest.

<-->

You stared at your phone, pacing back and forth as you chewed on your thumbnail. It had been almost a month since CJ walked out of your dorm room, leaving you more conflicted than you felt prior to his arrival. You had turned his explanation over and over in your mind so much that you had begun to dream about him every night. You had more panic attacks during that time, to the point where you’d finally taken the plunge and made an appointment to see a therapist. You’d told your parents everything you’d been experiencing, making sure they heard you this time, and told them you needed help. Your mother was still annoyed with you but your father was supportive, especially when you told him that you had a group of friends you met up with pretty regularly. He agreed to help with payments for your therapy.

You were doing better, just like you had been while talking to CJ, and the therapist had even more techniques in her toolbox that she taught you how to use. You’d even opened up to her about CJ and everything that happened with him. She was the initial reason why you were considering making a call that you hadn’t made in quite a while.

When you saw the clock hit 7:21, you made your decision. You huffed out a breath, picked up the phone, and dialed the all-too familiar number.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You resumed your pacing, nervous, unsure of how to say what you wanted to.

“Hello?”

You’ve got this.

“Hello?”

Just do it already. Talk to him.

“Listen, if you’re—”

“What are your plans for tomorrow afternoon?” You rushed out before you lost your nerve.

“Jo?” You appreciated him using your fake name. “Is that you?”

“Well?” You asked.

“Uh, tomorrow? I’m free...”

“Would you…want to get some coffee? Maybe?”

“Coffee, huh?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Jo, you’re not calling the helpline to ask me out on a coffee date, are you? Because that would be a serious misuse of this valuable resource the college provides,” he teased.

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll just wait until Seth is on shift then and call him up to ask him instead. Thanks, though. Bye.”

“Don’t you dare,” he laughed. You lifted the phone back up to your ear. “What time and what coffee shop?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Got a pen?”

<-->

You walked into the coffee shop ten minutes early, intent on getting a table and settling in before CJ arrived. To your surprise, he was already there, waving you over. You approached, feeling your heartbeat speed up with every step. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure we got a good table.” You had a feeling that wasn’t the only reason. The worry shadowing his expression confirmed it. Did he really think you had called him up to ask him to meet you only for you not to show? Then again, you supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“Good thinking.” You gestured towards the line with your thumb. “I’m going to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

He was immediately on his feet. “I’ll get it. You sit down. You still like lattes?”

You gave him a small smile and nodded; he remembered.

He returned your smile. “Okay. Here, take a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.” You watched him walk over to the line as you did just that.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were taking your therapist’s advice. You were moving your friendship with CJ away from the helpline and out into the real world. You were giving him another chance while also allowing both of you to start over. If CJ agreed to, that is.

A few minutes later, he returned and placed your cup in front of you. You gave him a smile of thanks and waited for him to join you.

“So,” he started once he was settled. “You called in.”

“Only to ask you to meet me,” you pointed out.

The corner of his lips tipped up in a genuine smile. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too.” And you meant it. You were happy he’d said yes. “I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to thank you.”

His brows drew together. “Thank me?”

You nodded and began to tell him about all of the recent developments in your life, including therapy. You also apologized for how harsh you’d been the last time you saw each other but he waved it off, saying you didn’t need to and he understood. He listened intently and his smile grew when you mentioned how the therapy was helping and your panic attacks were starting to lessen.

“I’m really happy to hear it, Y/N, and I’m glad you’re doing better.”

You bit at your lip, feeling nervous about speaking this next part. “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t helped me the way you did, especially that first night. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured.

Your heart began to pound against your rib cage but you bravely surged forward and kissed his cheek. When you sat back in your chair, his eyes were wide and you felt your face get hot. “Sorry. I just really wanted to do that for a long time. I hope that was okay.”

He grinned. “More than okay.” You felt relief sweep through you. “I was just thinking—”

“I know. You’re not dating, and we’re friends. Don’t worry, I understand.”

He studied you for a moment before speaking again. “I was going to say ‘I was just thinking what a coincidence because there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time, too.’” His hand gently covered yours and he slowly leaned in, giving you time to pull away or tell him to stop. You weren’t going to do either.

His lips brushed gently against yours and you felt a thrill rush through you at the contact. You had imagined kissing him so many times but the fantasy did absolutely no justice to the real thing. When you broke apart but he didn’t lean back right away, he murmured, “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you whispered before pulling him back into you, both of you grinning like idiots before your lips connected again.

<-->

You stopped, seeing the front of the building you were about to go into. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You asked nervously.

CJ turned back to you and gave you a reassuring smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you. “Yes. We should.”

“But—”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “Trust me. I’m right here with you, okay?” He pecked your lips one more time, tightened his hold on your hand, and began pulling you forward.

“Okay.” You didn’t sound so sure about this and truthfully, you weren’t.

CJ chuckled and led you inside. The Stand office was decorated with balloons and streamers and there was even confetti on the floor. One of the counselors was leaving since she was soon to graduate and a party was being thrown for her last day. You tried not to get overwhelmed at the amount of people filling the small space. It was overly warm in here and you could barely hear yourself think over the din of multiple conversations going on at once. Somewhere music was playing at a decent level. You noted a room in the back where through the window you could see two people sitting, talking on the phone, a closed door in between them and the noise.

CJ intertwined your fingers and moved you both towards a group of a few people that he was intent on talking to, people greeting him as he passed. You remembered the techniques you had been taught and tried to put them into action while reminding yourself that you were with CJ and he wasn’t going to abandon you.

He stopped and greeted the group before he turned to you smiling. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

One of the guys laughed. “Ah, so this is Y/N.” Your heart started hammering inside your chest. “CJ hasn’t shut up about you since you two started dating.” You nearly sighed in relief.

CJ shrugged, grinning down at you. “Seth’s not wrong.”

Your eyes widened before you turned back to the guy. “Oh, so you’re Seth.”

Seth beamed. “Aww, CJ, you told her about me? I just knew we had something special,” he joked.

You frowned. “Hey now. Go get your own CJ. This one’s mine.” You winked up at CJ who laughed.

He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him. “Definitely yours,” he whispered huskily.

Seth pretended to gag. “Ugh. Young love. Gross. You can have him, Y/N.”

“Damn right I do,” you laughed as CJ wrapped himself around you from behind and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

From that moment on, it wasn’t so bad. CJ circulated around the room to different groups, introducing you each time. With him by your side, you began to feel more comfortable and you opened up bit by bit. At one point, CJ took your hand and led you away. “I want to show you something.”

“Again?” You teased. “Didn’t you already show me something back in my dorm earlier? Twice?”

“Ha ha. No, this is something different. Though there will definitely be a third time when I get you out of here and back to my place.”

“Ooo. You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Mr. Braxton.”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and pulled you into a kiss that left you breathless. “Just a small preview for later.”

“A small preview?” You panted. You just loved teasing him and couldn’t resist.

He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Come on.”

CJ led you over to a desk and with his free hand, he swiped confetti off of the seat. “This is it. My station,” he told you.

Your eyes roamed over the computer, the keyboard, the notepad and pens, stopping on the corded phone. So this was it. This was where CJ had sat on those Friday nights during your conversations. You smiled to yourself at the memory.

You let out a squeal when CJ quickly sat down in the chair and pulled you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from falling, glaring at his laugh. You softened though when you looked back over the desk. “So this is where you sat on those nights we talked?”

“Uh huh. Though I much prefer you here on this end with me.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and turned you to him, kissing you sweetly. You snuck your fingers into his hair and tilted your head to deepen it, not caring right then about anyone or anything else around you.

You and CJ had been dating for a while now and it was starting to become serious. He had met your parents when they came to visit. Your dad had liked him right away. Your mom, on the other hand, had given him a bit of a hard time but underneath the harsh exterior she was presenting, you could tell she liked him, too. He had initially planned to transfer to a school in New York, which you more than supported (though you were secretly heartbroken). You reminded him that you had done the phone thing once upon a time and you could do it again, if he wanted. After contemplating it, he decided to stay in Boston.

“Please don’t tell me you chose to stay because of me. I’m not going anywhere. If it’s a great opportunity for you, you should go. I don’t want you to regret not going.”

He’d simply smiled. “I have a great opportunity right here and I would regret leaving.” He’d kissed your nose. “Besides, Boston’s home.”

“CJ, you should go. I’m almost done and I can come visit you. It’s only a few hours’ drive. You could show me things like the Empire State Building or take me to a museum or a play or show me Times Square.” You’d tried to make it sound enticing but inside it was killing you. Everyone knew long distance relationships had their problems and who knew? Maybe he might meet someone new in the Big Apple. But you also wanted him to do what was right for him, just like you’d spoken with your therapist about. You didn’t want him to resent you later on if he didn’t take this opportunity now and you certainly didn’t want him to have any regrets. “We could even visit Jen and Jack, see how her Grams is doing.”

Jen and Jack had transferred to New York. You had been worried to tell her that you and CJ were dating but while she was a little miffed in the beginning, she was more focused on the developing situation with her grandmother who had been diagnosed with cancer. Eventually, she forgave you before she left and gave you her blessing. You had been relieved; Jen was a good person, a good friend, and you didn’t want to lose her friendship. Jack had been worried about Jen’s reaction but for the most part, he had been fine with it. David was happy for you both. Audrey was doing better these days and though she had wanted to know what the hell you were thinking by shacking up with The Sleaze (as she referred to him), she had eventually told you she loved you and just wanted you to be happy. Joey asked you if you were sure when you told her and when you assured her that you were, she pretty much said the same thing as her former roommate and gave you a hug. She gave you a look when you pulled away and you knew that she had connected the dots on who you really were to CJ, but to her credit, she mercifully never said anything. Pacey and Emma had shrugged (CJ had apologized to Pacey at some point after what happened with Audrey and they had resolved things), wishing you well. Dawson…well, you never really got to know Dawson all that well during his brief visits so no conversation needed to be had there really. All in all, your friends were supportive, even if still a little wary of how things were going to work out. You were happy, though. It was strange but shifting from friends into romance proved to be an easier transition then you thought it would be.

CJ laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going without you.” You went to speak, to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, when he cut you off. “I know what I want. I’m okay with my decision. I need you to be, too.”

You tenderly stroked his arm. “Are you sure?” You whispered, worried he was making a mistake.

“More than sure.” He then pulled you to him for a kiss.

“Okay,” you whispered to his lips before kissing him again.

And now you had met all of his co-workers at The Stand and had seen where he worked a few days out of the week. He had offered to bring you several times before, but you had been hesitant to take him up on it, still worried someone might figure out who you really were. It’s not that you were embarrassed that you had called the helpline for help, but your business was your business and you didn’t want to be seen as that girl CJ got himself through the service. You both obviously knew that wasn’t the case but people talked, people judged, and you just wanted to steer clear of both as long as you possibly could. You knew you shouldn’t care what anyone thought or said, just like CJ didn’t; it was something you were currently working on in therapy.

“So,” you teased when he finally broke away for air. “Is there a switchboard somewhere that you have somebody directing all the girls to you when they call? Is that how I got you every single time I called?”

He grinned. “Not exactly. I told everybody that any calls that came in on Fridays at 7:00 were mine.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Well, how did you know I would call every single time?” You huffed out. “How do you know I might not have gotten held up? Or made plans at the last second? Or got fed up with you?”

He gave you a cocky smirk. “Because you liked talking to me. I could tell.”

You playfully swatted at his shoulder, making him laugh, and rolled your eyes. “It always amazes me that you’re able to make it through doorways with that massive ego of yours. That can’t be how you knew I would call you every time.”

His smirk grew and he nodded.

“I hate you,” you mumbled. You didn’t really mean it and he knew you didn’t.

CJ pulled you closer up against him. “You have a weird way of showing that.” He inclined his head towards your embrace around his neck.

“True,” you murmured and kissed him again.

“Plus,” CJ added when you pulled back. “You always said you would call back and I believed you.”

“Better,” you decided. “Though I will begrudgingly admit that I did like talking to you.”

“Like I said, I could—”

“Hush.” You covered his lips with yours and he chuckled into your mouth. When you pulled back this time, you laid your forehead against his, your eyes closed, smiling. “I love you,” you murmured.

“I love you, too” he whispered back to you, lifting up to press a kiss to your brow before you buried your head into his neck and he discreetly snuck his hands under your shirt to rub your back, just the way you liked.

“Want to get out of here?” He asked you after a few minutes had passed.

“Mmm.” You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “No Fleetwood Mac this time, though.”

He laughed and helped you to your feet. “What have you got against one of the greatest bands of all time?”

“Nothing. It’s just weird to listen to that chorus when we’re about to…you know.” You could feel your cheeks starting to warm.

He grinned salaciously at you. “Oh, I know. Hey, at least it’s not the Star Wars theme.” He snickered at your glare and picked up your hand, kissing it. “No Fleetwood Mac tonight. Got it.” He intertwined your fingers and his grin softened into an affectionate smile before he led you out of there. You quickly made your goodbyes and hurried back to his place where he kept his promise of no rock group music track playing along to your own soundtrack.

Later, as CJ slept, you repeatedly ran your fingers through his messy hair in soothing strokes as you studied him. Who knew calling the helpline that one Friday night would lead you here? Where you were happy, in love, and doing much better than you ever thought possible? You had gone from feeling overwhelmed by your education to feeling a different type of overwhelmed together. Overwhelming love and affection for the special person in your life; overwhelming gratitude for the progress you’d been able to make in managing your anxiety and panic attacks as best you could; and overwhelming contentment with every single moment, no matter the ups and downs that was best known as life. Regardless of whatever happened from here, you knew you’d be okay and you’d handle whatever was thrown your way. Like CJ had once said, one day at a time.

In his sleep, your boyfriend reached out for you and pulled you in closer to him, snuggling into your side and burrowing into your neck, making you smile.

And to think, you almost hadn’t made that call. You laid your head against CJ’s and closed your eyes. You were so glad you did.

#cj braxton x reader #cj braxton x female reader #cj braxton x you #cj braxton x y/n #cj braxton #dawson's creek fanfiction #dawson's creek #prompt response #dawson's creek fandom #cj braxton x female!collegestudent!reader #female!collegestudent!reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #cj braxton fanfiction #thebiggerbear

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multifandomfanficss · 8 months

Text

Stuck With You

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: When the team sticks their newest member with Vigilante, everyone feels bad for you, but you’re grateful to have him around when you run into something from your past and lose your cool.

Warnings: panic attacks, human experimentation, referenced child abuse

A/N: I found a couple lines of dialogue in my drafts that I never did anything with and I had the writing bug today so I decided to finally make something with it! I’ll crosspost it on my AO3 adriansglasses as well. Hope you enjoy!

“(L/N), you’re with Vigilante.” Harcourt says, at the beginning of the meeting.

“You’re really gonna stick the newest person with that psycho?” John asks.

“You don’t need to be mean to Adrian just because he’s not here.” Leota starts.

“I would say it to his face too. He’d probably just laugh and call me his 4th best friend.” John retorts.

You hadn’t been with the team for long. This was your first mission with them. After a mission gone too out of control, Waller sent you to the middle of nowhere Evergreen, Washington. You thought she’d sent you here because the environment would be less hectic, but the longer you’re there, the more you realize she probably sent you here because everyone on this team is either highly traumatized or in need of more experience. She was trying to put the training wheels back on. From what you’d been told by the team’s top conspiracy theorist, Christopher Smith, this team was originally supposed to be an expendable scapegoat, but they ended up saving the world. You had no idea what to believe at this point.

“What’s up with Vigilante?” You ask, wondering why this was all such a hot topic. You hadn’t known him for long. He seemed a little odd, but overall fine. If you were being honest you actually kind of liked him. He was sweet and funny, often without trying. There was this comforting air about him and you didn’t really know why. He was a good fighter and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was at least a little bit cute.

“He’s a little…” Chris started moving his finger in a circular motion, trying to insinuate that Adrian was crazy.

“He can’t be that bad.” You smile.

Suddenly Adrian comes running into the old video store tripping over one of his shin guards that wasn’t on properly. He sits down and fastens it.

“Sorry I’m late, guys. They kept me late at the restaurant and then when I was trying to put on my suit in the car I accidentally ran a red light and usually I would kill somebody for that, but I mean I think the more important thing is that I didn’t run over the old lady crossing the street! She was totally fine and I know she’s alive because she screamed at me…I’ve never seen an old lady use to many swear words. It was kind of awesome! Anyway what did I miss?”

“You put on your suit while driving?” Leota asks.

“Yup.” He gives a straight face nod. Adrian often had a way about him, as if what he was thinking should be obvious to other people, when in fact, it was not obvious to most people most of the time.

“You amaze me.” Harcourt says, sarcastically.

“Thank you.” Adrian smiles, not catching her sarcasm.

She rolls her eyes, sighing.

———————————————————————

Later on that night you and Adrian found yourselves walking through a series of tunnels.

“John, I think we might be lost.” You spoke into your coms, hoping he can help you from the van.

“I can’t even hear you in my earpiece and I’m right next to you. I think we lost the signal.” Adrian walks in silence for a few seconds before adding, “I’m sorry you got stuck with me.” He looks at the ground, sad.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know they stuck you with me. Nobody ever really chooses to be my partner.” He lightly kicks a rock, pretending not to be bothered.

“They did pair us up, but that doesn’t mean I was disappointed.” You smile.

“Really? Why would you want me?”

“Well first of all, you’re a great fighter. You were also the first person to attempt to be my friend. I’d trust you in the field over anyone.”

“Really?” You can hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah.” You let out a soft giggle. “Why are you so surprised that I like you?”

“Usually everyone just tells me to shut up or fuck off.”

“Well I’m not everyone.” You nudge him playfully as you walk.

Soon you come upon a door. It’s a little rusted, but Adrian shoots the lock off and you’re able to break in.

“What is this place?” He asks.

As soon as you walk inside you see the tubes, the files, the devices, the tables, the symbols. You know exactly what this is. This is an old facility for the for the group that made you leave your old job, the mission that ruined your life. You see files on the table, files no doubt full of details on the children they were experimenting on. The group would take orphaned children or children who were abandoned and unwanted, kids who had no one to protect them, and they would experiment on them. They were human trials to try to find new ways of making superheroes. This must have been one of their old abandoned facilities. Despite the lab being inactive, just the sight of it was still enough to send you into a spiral.

Your heart starts beating rapidly as you grow dizzy. You look down at your shaking hands. You’re starting to lose control of your breathing.

“I- I can’t-“ You walk backwards out of the room, starting to hyperventilate.

“Woah. Hey, what’s going on? Are you having a panic attack?” Adrian slowly puts his hands out towards you. He’s a little unsure of what to do.

“I’ve seen this before!” Your entire world is spinning as your start to cry. You can’t stop thinking about the awful things you saw when you snuck into their active facility earlier this year. Those poor children. Part of you was starting to wonder if Waller put you on this team for a reason. You should have known better than to think she was giving you a break. Waller always had some sort of fucked up motive that only worked for herself hidden up her sleeve. “I can’t fucking breathe!” You sob, sucking in air.

“Tender nice touching.” Adrian slowly approached you, patting your shoulder. You needed pressure on your body. You felt like you were slipping away from earth and you needed to be held down.

“Can I have a hug?” You asked, quietly.

“You want a hug?” He asked, his voice just as quiet. He was speaking softly to not startle you further.

“Yeah…”

“I think I can do that.“ He smiles, slowly bringing you into his arms. A little loose at first, he tightened the hug as you melted into him.

“I’m sorry- I- I just…I know what the did here and- and-“ Adrian shushes you as you begin to stutter, your mind moving much faster than your mouth is able to.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me. Don’t focus on anything else, but your breathing okay? Can you feel me breathing?” He rubs your back as you cry into his arms. You nod. “Okay, good. Just…just follow that.” He sighs and then focuses on making his own breathing something you can follow.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to know what people on the team want because I know Chris doesn’t wanna look weak and Harcourt would kill me if I touched her, so I try to be careful. I just don’t wanna upset you guys more, but if you want me hold you I can keep doing that. Just let me know what you need and I’ll do it.” He says, softly.

“Can you just keep talking?” You ask. The sound of his voice is soothing and grounding.

“You want me to keep talking?” He smiles. “You’re in luck. I’m actually really good at talking. So good, in fact, that people are constantly asking me to shut up. So uh… What can I talk about? Oh! I know. So I have this friend at work. His name is Taylor. Well, he says we’re not friends, but he texts me all time time asking me to help cover his shifts and I would only trust a friend enough to ask them for that, so I think we’re friends. Anyway, so Taylor walked in this morning and…”

The longer Adrian rambles on the better you feel. The pressure of his body on yours and his voice slowly bring you back to earth. Eventually you find yourselves walking back through the tunnels, hand in hand, retracing your steps as he guides you back to the van to regroup. He keeps you distracted with silly stories the entire walk back.

You don’t know what the rest of your team was talking about. Adrian was the best partner you could have had.

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midnightcrw · 8 months

Text

Running away

Chapter 1

Reverie

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: Life really had it in for you. Just moving to a new apartment seemed to unleash a brand new hell

Warnings: tiny mention of self inflicting pain, the beginning of a panic attack

a/n: it's been a while since I last wrote something, so please bear in mind that there might be some mistakes or overall bad writing because English isn't my first language

"You should stay away from him," the stern voice of the woman named, Amanda, rang through your apartment.

She was probably in her early forties, dressed in a crisp white blouse and a black pencil skirt. She was wearing heels and her brown hair, with a few white streaks, was pulled back from her face. She had probably just come from work, but she didn't hesitate to greet her new neighbor who had just moved into the apartment complex, which happened to be you.

She seemed to be a nice woman, but very disciplined and serious at the same time. Her posture was upright, which made you a little envious as you often found yourself sitting with your shoulders down as if pulled inward. There was definitely a different air about her and you. She looked confident, sure of herself as she sat with her legs crossed and her body held high, while you looked insecure, as if you were being scolded, which shouldn't be the case.

Amanda had come to your apartment to introduce herself and chat with you a little while she handed you a container of freshly baked cookies. They smelled fantastic, and you seemed almost certain that this woman had no flaws.

"From who?" You asked her, your voice almost coming out in a whisper, being utterly confused. The conversation between you two had been quite comforting and relaxed until her body tensed up as she warned you to stay away from someone. You didn't even know who this man was, having not even met anyone else in this apartment.

It looked like Amanda didn't like the man she was talking about at all. She looked stiff, her head still held high as she looked at you from one of the stools you had set up for her to sit on. Whoever this man was, he must have done something to make her look so rigid. Even though her voice had been stern, there was a bit of concern dripping from it.

She cleared her throat once, but even as she spoke, her voice still sounded a bit raspy. "From the man next door to you." A frown made its way to your face as you wanted to ask more about it, but she beat you to it.

"No one in this apartment is fond of him. He is... I don't know how to put it into words, but he's kind of creepy," she shook her head, as if he forced her to. "It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, just don't get too close to him. Preferably stay away from him."

You just nodded, not sure if you should ask more about your neighbor. If she looked like that just by telling you little to nothing about him, then she must hate it when she actually got into detail.

It almost seemed like bad luck to you. First the wheel of one of your suitcases broke, and then you apparently ended up with a neighbor who seemed to be disliked, if not hated.

Amanda smiled at you, or rather at the fact that you agreed with her to stay away from him with a simple nod. Her tense and rigid body now looked visibly relaxed. Even the expression on her face changed almost immediately, she looked more comfortable now. Her blue eyes were not as intense as before, and the wrinkles on her face disappeared a little.

She grabbed your hand to squeeze it a little, not being too firm or too gentle, just like a little warning. "If you should ever need anything, my apartment is right across the hall". With that, Amanda stood up. Her manicured, red-nailed fingers, straightened the pencil skirt she was wearing. She was taller than you, having to slightly look down to meet your eyes as she gave you a friendly smile when you led her to the door.

Once she was out of your apartment, you carefully shut the door and leaned against it until you slit down onto the cold floor. The back of your head hit the door as you closed your eyes, not knowing what conclusion to come to from this brief encounter. Thousands of thoughts swirled around your mind, all being left unanswered.

Amanda seemed to be a nice lady. She was strict, that was for sure, but she had good intentions. At least that was something you could tell yourself. But the way she talked about your neighbor threw you off, not knowing if there was just a little misunderstanding between them or if there was something seriously wrong with him. She said that the others in this apartment didn't seem to like him either, but that seemed impossible to you since there are a lot of people here. Anyway, you would stay away from him for now, or at least that was what you told yourself.

You stood up and looked around your apartment. It was small, but just right for you. The kitchen and the bathroom were already set up by the workers you had hired before. Only the living room and your bedroom would have to be put together, since there were boxes lying around.

You would try to make it a cozy home for yourself, as you planned to stay here, since you had already moved through several countries and came to the conclusion that you wanted a place to stay in permanently.

Walking across the room, you opened one of the boxes, wanting to make sure that nothing was broken. As you placed some of your belongings onto the ground, you heard the voice of a woman shout. It was difficult to make out what the she was saying, but it definitely didn't sound like she was pleased. You tried to stay quiet, trying to make out the words she was saying, but to no avail. Everything sounded muffled.

You thought of walking out, to make sure everything was alright but before you could do anything, the woman stopped shouting when you heard the loud bang of a door. Shaking your head, you thought to yourself, what you must have done in your past life to have gotten these kind of things happening to you.

After several hours, you finally put everything in it's place. Your apartment was kept in simple white colored walls and with everything you put out, it was now a mix of gray, black and white tones with dark green colors accenting the rooms.

Finally satisfied with the overall result, you lay down on the sofa, too exhausted to change into anything comfortable as you fell asleep.

"Fuck..." you muttered under your breath as you ran inside. Your clothes were clinging to your body, completely soaked from the rain. Your hair stuck to your face as you pulled some strands back, visibly annoyed at the weather.

You liked the rain, but only when you were inside and could just listen to it in peace. Your day at work in the library was pleasant, as all you had to do was put some of the new books on the shelves. There weren't any complaints either, since everyone who came in either just wanted to look at the books or study. Of all the days you have had so far, this one was probably the most relaxing. But the rain definitely made your day miserable as you were forced to run home.

As soon as you got your breath back, you started walking, hearing the wet squelching of your shoes as you just sighed. Looking across the hall, you saw the elevator next to the stairs. It made you feel sick, almost like you wanted to throw up.

Your eyes were locked on the gray elevator doors, not moving a single inch. Your breathing accelerated, if the apartment hadn't been so quiet, you were sure you wouldn't have been able to pick up on it. Mere seconds passed as you shook your head to come back with a clear mind. Without a another glance at the elevator, you made your way to the stairs and slowly went up, not wanting to slip down because of your wet shoes.

Looking down, you noticed your right hand twitching. As you put your left hand on top your twitching one, they both suddenly began to shake. Knowing that it wouldn't stop so easily, you carefully bit the tip of your tongue, not hard enough to bleed, but enough to make you aware of the slight pain that you were inflicting onto yourself.

With frantic eyes, you focused onto the stairs ahead of you as your heart pounded against your chest. It was a confusing feeling, you knew what was happening, but at the same time you felt numb enough not to focus on certain things as you usually would. The words in your head stumbled together, only a few of them clear enough to decipher.

You looked around the stairs like a newborn baby looking around the world with unfocused eyes. You hurried up, not caring at that point if you slipped down several stairs, just wanting to be in your apartment. It was almost as if you were in a trance, unable to return to reality.

With frantic steps, you made it to your floor as you walked across the hall. Your eyes were still looking down, but this time at the floor as you bumped into something. With that, you gasped softly and inhaled. You probably did not realize that you had held your breath before.

It felt like someone had saved you from drowning as you looked up at what you bumped into. Your eyes met a black hoodie clad chest and then you looked further up. This time, rather than seeing a face, the person you had bumped into was wearing their hood up with a mask on the lower part of their face. Not being able to see their eyes, just a slight glimpse of the bridge of their nose.

Even though you couldn't see the stranger's face, it was obvious that the person was a man. A very tall man, with broad shoulders and a broad chest, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He almost towered over you.

Your heart seemed to slow down from it having pounded inside your chest, finally coming back to reality. You couldn't see his eyes because of the hood he had pulled down over his face, but you could almost feel his piercing gaze.

Not wanting to seem even more rude than you had already been, you smiled at him. It was a small smile, but still friendly and apologetic. "Sorry for bumping into you" you croaked out, slightly embarrassed that your voice didn't come out smooth as you'd hoped for it to be.

The man nodded, his head moving slightly to indicate that it was alright. And just as you were about to apologize further, a door clicked open, just across the hall. You moved to the side, to see who it was as the stranger also turned slightly.

It was Amanda, her eyes widening in horror as she clenched her hands into fists when she realized that she had been staring wide-eyed. Without saying anything, she moved her head slightly to the side, indicating that she wanted you to come to her.

You raised your eyebrows in confusion, not knowing what was going on. Nevertheless, you turned your head towards the stranger, smiled apologetically and said goodbye as you made your way towards her.

Once you were within arm's reach, she pulled you into her apartment and closed the door firmly. It was silent, completely silent now. You were sure you could hear a pin drop.

Her blue eyes glared at you, obviously angry. This time she was dressed more comfortably. Her hair was down and she was wearing a sage green sweater and sweatpants. But she stood straight, her posture perfect, just like yesterday when she had introduced herself.

She looked you up and down. Your body was still soaked from the rain and as she moved her eyes up again, she stopped suddenly. Amanda's eyes were fixed on something, and just as you were about to ask her what was wrong, she took your hands in hers.

"Did he do something to you?" She sounded panicked, her blue eyes meeting yours. You looked down and realized that your hands were still shaking from earlier. Wanting to calm her, you were about to speak until she interrupted you.

"That was him, the guy I told you about yesterday," her voice sounded almost abrasive, it wasn't a pleasant sound. She was stiff again. Obviously concerned that he might have done something.

"He didn't do anything," you exclaimed. Her gaze didn't waver, she wasn't satisfied with your answer, still not believing you as you continued to speak. "My hands are just shaking from the cold," you tried to reassure her, which seemed to work.

She let go of your hands. You didn't really like to lie, only when it was necessary and this time it was. She ran a hand over her face, clearly out of it, "Just... please be careful," she whispered.

It was clear that something wasn't right and not just because of your next door neighbour. It was her behaviour, her paranoid and overprotective behaviour. It made you uneasy, made your hands sweat as you bit down on your lip.

Not wanting to stand around any longer, you make up an excuse "Would it be alright for me to leave now? I still have to unpack my things". Hearing that, she nod and you quickly made your way inside of your own apartment.

'What is going on here?' You muttered to yourself as you ran a hand through your hair, wanting to tear it all out in frustration and confusion.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #cod x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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onestepbackwards · 10 months

Text

Love That Bites Pt. 7

This fic has me by the throat a lil bit. Though it was never my intention to write the chapter to be this big 😅 it kinda did what it wanted.

Summary: Things seemingly were beginning to go well for you. Of course, you should have known it was only a matter of time before things went horribly, horribly wrong.

CW: Multiple injures, blood loss, panic attacks, abuse, irresponsible injury treatment, cursing

Word Count: 7111 words!

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Taglist: @onewiththebeanbag

@starrlo0ver

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It was only a matter of time until things spiraled out of control.

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised.

Given that you were a Belmont, you knew your luck could only go so far, especially with how you had been cruising what little good luck you had left until now.

In hindsight, you really should have put forth an effort to further anticipate this.

After all, it was only a matter of time before you were heavily injured by your ‘family.’

Things had briefly gotten admittedly better, before things took a turn for the worst.

It had been too good to be true. You relaxed too much. Let yourself get too comfortable.

A little over a week before this had happened, your family had seemingly backed off. Something that you had admittedly been relieved about at the time.

They gave you space, well, about the same amount of space before you started sneaking away even more to see Dracula’s statue.

Jason had no longer been up your ass complaining and trying to instigate a fight.

That itself had been a huge weight off your shoulders. Your step brothers you could handle, but your step father? He had quickly grown into a short fuse over the years, and had especially been reactive as of late.

With Jason backing down, your brothers seemed to follow his lead.

Seth had taken to lingering in the background when you were around. Ever present, watching you, but never saying anything.

His gaze unnerved you, but hey, it was better than talking to him most of the time.

Mark meanwhile had barely been around the house. When you did see him, he seemed pissed off. Angry, just like his father.

He especially seemed mad at you, but would storm off before he would yell.

That had you concerned at first, and you worried you would have to watch your back for him instead.

Nothing ever came from any of them. Just the usual shit from about a year ago. Avoiding you, still making you clean, and having you take dirty jobs.

You could live with that.

Even if it was still poor treatment, it was better than whatever had originally pissed your step father off bad enough to hit you outside of training.

With them not all constantly down your throat, you were beginning to feel a lot better too.

Sure, you still weren’t getting as much rest as you’d like, but now you were at least able to rest.

With the lack of immediate stress, and some actual sleep, you actually were beginning to feel a little better.

By the end of the week, you’d dare even say you had felt somewhat good. It was a wonder what a lack of migraines and puking your guts out could do for your health and overall well being!

You had even taken a trip back to your cabin to check up on Dracula at the end of the week. With each bout of sickness, it had been harder to head over there without issue.

But when you were feeling better, you left with no hassle. Not even a peep from your step family when you left in the evening!

That should have been another warning.

They always have something to say if they catch you ‘sneaking’ out. If not a snide comment, it’s usually yelling and screaming as they followed you to your car.

The visit itself had been uneventful, but you had brought some snacks, and happily talked on about how you were feeling better for once.

You knew better than to tempt fate like that, yet you still did it, too happy and in bliss.

It had even felt like you were welcome. The Castle hadn’t felt intimidating in a long time. It felt, dare you say, somewhat welcoming.

Or that was just your hope and delusions talking.

Dracula hadn’t moved at all, though you did notice his eyes still changed positions on occasion, still solidifying he was somewhat aware of you.

You had left that visit happy, and feeling a bit lighter.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

The few days afterward were similar to the last, and you didn’t suspect a thing. You only became wary whenever Mark would get upset, but like before, he would turn and leave you alone.

It wasn’t until an average Monday afternoon that things turned sour.

You had been writing in your journal, noting your visits with Dracula inside it in code. It had become a pastime for you when you arrived home, and figured detailing your visits wouldn’t hurt if you needed them in the future.

As you had been writing, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps walking up stairs and towards your room.

Quickly, you hid your journal, and pulled out another to pretend to write in.

Moments later, your door opened, with not even a knock.

Jason stood there, an odd look on his face. It almost seemed… gleeful.

That unsettled you, but you kept your face blank.

“Get your things. We need you for a training session.” He said, though you knew it was an order.

One of the few things you couldn’t talk your way out of in this house.

“Alright. I’ll be there in a minute.” You said with a sigh, closing your mock journal.

Jason didn’t waste another moment, and turned and left, not even closing your door behind him.

Jerk.

You made sure you had your whip with you, and changed into some comfortable gear to dodge in. It’s not like they’d let you actually attack them, anyway.

Quickly, you then headed to your family’s training area, drrad an annoyance in your stomach.

That wasn’t unusual. You never enjoyed training with them, with how aggressive and temperamental they could occasionally be.

Not to mention, this was just an excuse to use you as a punching bag to take their anger out on.

With how temperamental Mark had been lately, you had a feeling you would be leaving this ‘training session’ with a few more bruises than normal.

It started as normal. Your step brothers were allowed to choose whatever weapon they wanted, same with your step father.

Any weapon, except for your whip.

Anytime they asked (read: demanded) to use your whip, that was the one line you never let them cross.

Even in the past, when they physically threatened you, tried to take it forcefully, and tried to intimidate you by threatening to evict you, you held firm.

The Belmont family whip would stay in the family. It’s not like they could awaken and use its power properly anyways.

…Not without killing themselves in the process, at least. The whip was very picky, apparently.

Since you had your whip, they often argued you didn’t need any other weapon. That was the downside of keeping it on you around them.

“If you were so great at fighting, you wouldn’t need them anyway, right?” They’d always say.

It wasn’t too different this time, though you just decided not to bother asking for a chance to use something else.

Best to skip the ‘formalities’, after all.

As usual, Jason instructed you where he wanted you to stand, and that your step brothers and himself would be practicing weapons they weren’t the best with.

“Better to practice with a live target, right?” Seth had spoken, grabbing an old battle ax.

The look on his face made you shudder.

Those words, and the weird look made your gut churn.

You didn’t like that, not one bit.

Glancing to the side, Mark stared at you with a steely gaze. That iron hot anger simmered behind his eyes, and you felt yourself beginning to sweat.

He was silent, and alarm bells were ringing in your head.

Mark was always the loud one of the two brothers. His silence spoke volumes.

Him also holding a spear with murderous intent didn’t help.

Jason was in front of you across the room, as if to act as a referee. You knew damn well it was only for show. He only stopped the fights if you fought back, just to yell at you for daring to ‘attack his precious sons.’

He also would join in if he really felt like it. If he ever was in a foul mood, or felt you weren’t taking enough aggression, he’d try and sneak into the fight. Something he only started doing after your mother had passed away.

If he had tried that shit when she was alive, even if she was ill, she would have torn him to pieces.

Stars, you missed her.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to settle your nerves.

Jason was staring at you, a focused look on his face. You gripped your whip tightly, your stomach beginning to churn.

Something was wrong.

Every instinct that had been drilled inside you was screaming at you to run.

You weren’t the hunter here. This didn’t feel like it was going to be a regular training session.

You were now the prey.

In an instant, Mark sprang into action, and threw his spear at you with alarming accuracy. You let out a yell of surprise as you jumped back, the weapon narrowly missing you by a few inches.

Jason hadn’t even given the okay. That had been an attempt on your life, you were sure of it.

You didn’t have much time to think on that, with Seth running up to you with a yell, swinging the ax at your neck.

The weapon came down at a vertical angle, and you hissed as you dodged to the side.

“What the fuck is your problem!? If that had hit me, I-“ you yelled, though let out a curse mid sentence when you spotted Mark out of the corner of your eye, trying to stab at your mid section.

Your free hand came up just in time, and you managed to parry the spear, sending it to the left.

Seth was in front of you again, and you panicked. With Mark behind you to your left, you had very little room to dodge the ax once again headed your way.

Before Seth could bring down the ax, you pushed forward, taking him by surprise as you got in his personal space.

With no room for him to swing, you ducked under his arm, trying to get away and put some distance between you and them.

Before you could run, you felt a hand at your back, grabbing your shirt, and tugging. With a yell, Mark threw you backwards behind them both, and the force knocked you to the floor.

You didn’t have time to even acknowledge the air being knocked from your lungs as you quickly rolled to the side. Where you were just a second prior, Seth’s ax was lodged into the ground with a worrying thunk.

As Seth tried to tug the ax from the ground, you saw Mark running at you, fully intending to gut you with his spear.

Swiftly, you kicked his legs out from under him, rolled backwards, and landed onto your feet.

Mark fell to the ground, landing on his lower back with a groan. A curse followed as his spear tumbled out of his hand, and part of the handle landed on his face as he struggled to grab it.

Shaking from the adrenaline and slight panic, you looked between the two siblings, bewildered.

Sure, they loved beating the shit out of you, or trying to during the ‘mandatory’ training sessions Jason would throw at you. But this?

They were trying to kill you.

Every attack had been an attempt to end your life, not just break a bone or two and cover you in bruises.

“Just what the fuck your problem!? It’s not training if you’re genuinely teaming up to kill me you asshats! Jason, this is going too far, even for-“

You paused as you panted. Jason was not where he was moments prior.

“…-you?”

In a split second, it was as if time slowed down. Your instincts once again screamed at you to move.

Without thinking, you dived to the right. Your body felt like lead, but your mind moved at a thousand miles an hour.

You felt it before you saw it.

A sharp, striking pain erupted in your left side. You could feel it practically burn your nerves alive as the pain slowly spread.

Landing with a roll, you let out a pained yell as time seemed to finally catch up with your senses.

You gripped your side, and looked where the pain was, and your shirt was quickly growing soaked with red.

Blood.

There was a tear in your shirt, though you couldn’t properly see the wound from how you sat.

However, you certainly felt the pain, and could see the blood both dripping down onto your pants. Your shirt was quickly becoming soaked with red, and you were instantly concerned with how bad the wound must be to be bleeding that quickly.

With a hiss, you cupped the wound, wincing as you tried to stop the blood flow.

You turned to look behind you, and you grimaced when you saw Jason holding a bloody hunting knife.

“Motherfucker, did you just-“ you cursed, and Jason simply clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“You’re getting rusty. That should have been easy for you to dodge.” Is all he said, and your eyes narrowed.

He lazily swung the knife in his hands, as if admiring it.

“You fought back against Mark, so I figured you needed a challenge. It seems I was right, if I was able to hit you.”

A grin grew on his face, and you felt dread build up in your chest as Seth and Mark began to close in on you, both having recovered from earlier.

“After all, without a challenge, how can you ever hope to improve?”

Shakily, you stood up.

Gripping your whip with one hand, and holding your side with the other, you glared at the three.

“This is nuts! You really think critically injuring me is going to help me improve?” You spat, your mind swimming as pain filled your senses.

Your step father gave you a disgusted look, as if you were nothing but the scum on the bottom of his boots.

To him, you most definitely were.

You let out a yelp when Seth’s ax swung down at you, and you stumbled back.

Twisting to the side with a grunt of pain, you narrowly dodged another wound in your side from Mark. However, you cursed when you felt the edge of the spear cut your right arm.

“Who said it was just you needing to improve.” Mark spoke, and pulled his spear back to stab you again. Seth dashed at you at the same time, trying to take you off guard.

Bobbing and weaving, you barely managed to avoid both weapons. Though your eyes widened when you felt a bit of air next to your ear from behind you as you ducked.

Jason, the fucker, had aimed for your damn head.

You licked your lips as you struggled to figure out what to do.

They weren’t the best fighters on their own. Deep down, you think they all knew this as well.

It’s one reason you always got the icky jobs. They were never tough enough to handle them alone.

But together? They were annoying, and an actual threat since they were actually trying to kill you.

Sure, they were disguising this as training, but you knew they were aiming for that ‘lucky’ hit to put you out of commission at best.

If you were to die? Well, you were from a family of hunters. Accidents happen, after all. It unfortunately wouldn’t be the first time a hunter died from an accident in training.

You had to do something, figure out a plan. This wasn’t good.

Your mind was growing a bit foggy. Moving was beginning to get harder too, not just from the pain. The blood loss was beginning to slow you down.

Jason was right, much to your dismay and disgust.

In a way, you had let this happen. You weren’t paying enough attention, and you might end up gravely paying for it.

Letting your guard down and thinking this would be regular training was your biggest mistake.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be your last.

You moved to back away, and gasped in pain when one of them kicked you in the back, sending you toppling forward.

“Still not fighting back, just as I had taught ya.” You heard your step father practically gloat from above you as you struggled to push up.

“At least you’re able to listen to some rules. Not a complete idiot who doesn’t know how to listen to an order.”

The wind was then knocked from your lungs as a shoe slammed onto your back, and you crumpled to the floor.

Your hands clenched into fists, and you felt hot tears welling up in your eyes.

Pathetic.

How could you let this happen?

You could level armies with just a whip. Destroy packs of demons with a knife. You trained to defeat Dracula, of all people. Your family had even praised your prowess, confident you’d be able to do so should the need arise.

Yet you let these three clowns get a lucky hit, and had you falling like a flimsy house of cards.

Granted, they had never gone this far before. You should have seen it coming.

You got lazy. Compliant. Relaxed.

How could you let it get to his? Were you really still that afraid of fighting back?

Did the fear of losing everything really hold you this far back?

“Oh look at that. They’re crying! When was the last time they’d done that?” One of them laughed above you. You were so out of sorts, you weren’t sure you could tell who it was.

One of them scoffed.

A moment later, you felt a sharp pain to your ribs, and you let out a cry of pain and surprise.

The kick had enough force to flip you over, and you cursed. They had hit you right in the wound.

You cracked your eye open, and immediately regretted it as the handle of Seth’s ax came down at your head.

It missed your eye, but the brunt force was enough to turn your vision white regardless with hot, blinding pain.

“Holy fuck-“ you cursed, curling in on yourself and trying to grab your temple.

“Shut up.”

A scream was then ripped from your throat when you felt searing pain in your leg.

This wasn’t training anymore. This was torture.

“Hmph. Look at them. How pitiful.” Seth, you think, spoke up.

One of them chuckled.

“What a disappointment. Such a disgrace doesn’t deserve the Belmont name.” Jason scoffed, and he bent down to your level.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him reaching for your whip.

Your ears rang, and for a brief moment, you suddenly had a moment of clarity.

A growl ripped from your throat, and Jason let out a squawk of surprise when you suddenly reached out, and tossed him over your body.

Faintly, you heard his body harshly hit the floor at your side.

Mark and Seth were briefly taken off guard, and you took the opportunity to shakily stand to your feet.

“Don’t ever say that to me again. You may have taken our family name, but you three will never be Belmonts.” You snarled, holding your whip close as you struggled to stay standing.

Mark’s face twisted into fury while Seth had rushed to his father’s side. Jason had seemingly landed on his face, and was now cupping his nose as blood dripped down his chin.

You hoped he broke his nose or fucked up his jaw.

Mark raised his spear, and was about to rush you again.

Before he could, you felt the dam break.

Gripping your whip, you lashed out, and a loud crack echoes across the room, followed by a hollow clutter against the floor.

The spear had been masterfully ripped from his grasp by your whip, and was now innocently rolling across the ground.

All three of them froze.

It had been years since you raised your whip against any of them. The last time being when your mother was alive, and you were allowed to fight back during training.

The silent fury was evident in your eyes and posture. Despite your injuries, you were still standing, and ready to fight once more.

And you were pissed.

No one talked. No one moved. Their eyes flickered between yourself, and the whip in your hand.

Unknowst to you, the weapon was glowing a soft purple. All three of them could feel a rage from the whip, one that was completely different from the rage coming from you.

The temperature seemed to drop, and the three of them suddenly struggled to breathe properly. It was as if they were suffocating from how heavy the air had become.

So this was the power of a Belmont.

You hadn’t even done anything, but all three felt the immense pressure, the immense power you wielded. The immense potential you had, even after the injuries they had inflicted onto you was untold.

They were no match for you, they knew this.

Growling, you cracked your whip again, making all three flinch.

“That is enough.” You spoke, your voice echoing in the chamber.

“I’m going to leave this place to recover, regardless of your consequences. You will not stop me. If you try to attack me when my back is turned, I won’t hold back.”

Your words were cold and icy, and they could sense the frustration and fury you were holding back.

Slowly, you turned towards the exit, and began to limp to the door.

However, you momentarily paused before opening it.

“I’ll be back eventually. I recommend we pretend this didn’t happen, for both our sakes, understand?” You said, your voice even, but your rage still ever present.

The three looked at eachother, though you missed the frustrated, annoyed looks on their faces. Despite this, they did not speak.

Nor did you give them the chance to.

You opened the door, and slammed it behind you, limping up the stairs and through the house to your room.

It wasn’t until you reached your bed that you finally collapsed.

Gasping for air, you groaned as you felt the pain rip through your body.

You lost so much blood. The wounds they gave you weren’t life threatening on their own, but left unattended, and being forced to move with them had cost you.

Gripping the side of the bed, you lifted yourself up slightly, and opened your bedside drawer. Feeling around inside, you let out a sigh of relief.

…Only to groan is frustration when the potion bottle you pulled out was almost empty.

Right. Up until this last week, you had been sipping on these to help with bruises and your bouts of illness.

All that was left was about an inch of liquid in the bottle.

Not enough to fix any severe damage, but enough to hopefully slow down the bleeding.

Without hesitation, you downed the little bit left in the bottle, and proceeded to crawl towards your bathroom.

You could at least feel the wounds trying to stitch itself together, and your head didn’t hurt as much.

This is what you get for not stocking up. Instead, you had decided to go visit Dracula again, when you really should have contacted one of the alchemists you did business with.

Lesson learned, you supposed.

With a grunt, you clambered over to your desk, and pulled out a first aid kit. With practiced precision, you began to dress your wounds.

It was sloppy and rough, but it was better than leaving them open. Anything to slow or stop the bleeding, and avoid instant infection.

You could clean them up later when you got away from here. Anywhere from here.

Though you already knew where you would be going. You didn’t even have to ask yourself such a question.

When your wounds were eventually wrapped, you put a small bag together of anything you needed, and began limping back down the stairs.

You grimaced at the blood stains on the wood. You'd let them deal with it, knowing they’d care too much about the house to just leave it be.

Wouldn’t have even been an issue if they had not decided to torture you. It was their problem now.

You ended up passing them briefly on your way to the car. Your hand was still on your whip, and they gave you a wide berth as you passed them.

It pleased you to see your step father with a bandage around his nose. Fucker.

Still, that didn’t stop the glares he sent your way, or how Mark seemed to twitch in his seat in the kitchen as you passed by.

Was it bad you almost wanted him to attack you again so you could hurt him?

You decided no, it wasn’t. You’d process those feelings later when you weren’t still in possible danger and injured.

When you reached your car, you tossed your things into the back, and hit the gas as soon as the engine was on.

There was no time to waste. You wanted out. You had to get out. Had to leave.

It wasn’t until you were out of town did you notice how badly you were shaking, and how much blood was on your hands.

Your own blood.

A heavy sigh passed through your lips, and you continued driving.

The silence in your car was heavy. Your mind felt like it was racing, yet felt eerily calm at the same time.

It wasn’t until an hour into the drive that you finally pulled over, and got sick on the grass at the side of the road.

This wasn’t the same as when you were ill. This was some sort of physical response to the stress.

The last time this happened had been after your mother’s funeral, though that had been years ago.

Still, as you sat in the grass with a bottle of water, redressing your wounds as you nursed a migraine, you couldn’t help but feel your world was crumbling.

Your step family… they had finally done it. They hurt you. Intentionally. You know for a fact some of those attacks had the intent to kill.

Hot tears fell down your cheeks as you sat there, dwelling on it.

If you hadn’t fought back, finally giving in, who knows how far they would have gone when you had been a broken mess on the floor.

The fact your step father had even reached for your whip proved what it had all been about. He wanted everything. Having the house, the money, and the artifacts wasn’t enough.

He wanted to be a Belmont. He wanted your family’s legacy. The power, the notoriety, everything.

You refused to break.

Of course, you knew you couldn’t stay away forever. You’d have to go back eventually. There was no way in hell you were leaving the house to them without pitching a fit at least.

Wiping tears from your eyes, you heaved a sigh.

Everything sucked so much right now.

All you really wanted was to be in the cabin, or the castle. Run away and hide from this mess.

You would for a time, at least.

Lick your wounds before returning to what had become your own personal hell. You at least counted yourself lucky you had somewhere to go in the first place.

It took longer than you’d like to get back on your feet, but you had to keep moving. It was dangerous to camp out on the side of the road as injured as you were.

So you finished up, trying to avoid looking at your wounds as much as possible while still messily patching them up.

The less you acknowledged this at the moment, the better.

So you got back in your car, and continued to drive.

You could at least admit you felt a little better after crying a bit, but you had a sinking feeling this shit was gonna do some hardcore psychic damage to your mental health once you started processing it.

That could wait until later. Right now, your body was still tense.

It was strange. Your body couldn’t relax. Your body was still in fight or flight mode, and you could only wonder if it was the shock.

It took a while longer to reach the cabin. Longer than you would have liked, but it still somehow felt like a blur. You briefly wondered if you were losing your sense of time from the trauma.

“At least its working in my favor…” you couldn’t help but mumble as you dragged your bags into the house, uncaringly dropping them on your couch.

It wasn’t like you had anything too delicate anyway.

You ended up sitting on your bed, staring at your lap as you attempted to relax.

Even after hours of mindless driving, your heart still hammered in your chest, and your body shook.

The searing aches and pain from your wounds didn’t help either.

In fact, they kinda made you just wanna crawl into bed and die.

Heaving another sigh, you put your face in your hands, wincing when you felt the wound on your head.

“Man… I probably have a concussion too. Probably should not have driven, but…”

The words went unspoken, but even in this state, you weren’t going to take any chances of being followed. Physically or otherwise.

“What should I even…” you began to mumble, but stopped.

You didn’t know what you should do, but you knew what you wanted to do.

Realistically, you should just stay here. Redress your wounds (again), and eat, and take a long nap.

But you couldn’t. No way would you be able to rest in the semi manic state you were in.

No matter how many deep breaths you took, you still shook. Your heart still pounded in your ears. It was too hard to think. To focus.

“How pathetic…” you mumbled as you stood up, stumbling at the firey pain erupting from your calf.

“I’ve fought scarier monsters, obtained worse wounds, and walked it all off fine. Get beat up a little bit though by those… scum, and suddenly I can’t do anything right?”

You could probably go hours beating yourself up over this.

But you wouldn’t. Not right now.

Despite being at your cabin, your sanctuary, you did not feel at peace.

But you knew where you could calm down.

Was it a bad idea? Oh absolutely it was.

That wasn’t going to stop you, though. At this point, you could care less about what might happen.

“If anything, I’d rather Dracula kill me than my own step monsters.” You grumbled as you stumbled through the living area, searching for a specific bag. Grabbing it, you were out the door in moments.

Besides, it’s not like Dracula hadn’t seen you at a few lows already. What was one more?

If he still thought lowly about you, he’d at least get a kick out of it.

You pushed out the door of the cabin, your mind still feeling as if a thousand wasps were buzzing inside your skull.

So many thoughts, but it was hard to truly think about any of them. They were like water flowing through your fingers, and you didn’t care enough to cup your hands to try and catch them.

It was a bit of a walk, and it was arguably incredibly stupid to push yourself even more just to get to Dracula’s castle, but you were determined.

Also incredibly stubborn.

The walk wasn’t as easy as you had hoped it would be. Time didn’t pass as quickly as it did in the car, though the fact you were actually moving your body around instead of driving may have a bit to do with it.

You were in a painful daze every step of the way. Tremors or pain shot through your body with each miniscule movement.

But you didn’t relent.

It took a bit longer to arrive, but you couldn’t deny the wave of relief you felt when you passed the clearing to the lake.

The familiar, dark, looming castle was still there, surrounded by a vortex of storm clouds.

It was a sight that brought you an intense feeling of comfort and familiarity.

When had this cursed castle begin to feel closer to home than your own family house?

The thought was fleeting in your mind, the only thing you really cared to think of was getting inside, and getting past the obscene amount of stairs.

“How the hell did my ancestors get around this shit… Dracula, the lucky bastard, can teleport. How did anyone else get around?”

You were really regretting deciding to come here injured. Your legs were screaming at you, and you were drenched in sweat.

It was only a matter of time before your body forcefully shut down so you’d rest.

You at least wanted to be in the main tower when you inevitably passed out for a few days.

Despite everything you should have thought, it was the only place that felt safe. The only place you could pass out in peace.

Something a year ago you would have scoffed at, yet here you are.

You were sure you must have looked like a hot mess when you pulled the throne room’s doors open with your good arm.

No doubt you still had blood on you, and your wounds were still badly wrapped. Your face probably looked just as rough if the tender spot above your temple was any indication.

It was strange.

You could have sworn the energy in the castle shifted the moment you walked through the throne room door.

From the usual, comforting feeling you had grown accustomed to, the energy suddenly felt… off.

Vile? Angry? Suffocating? Hot?

But… you didn’t feel unwelcome, despite how the feeling around you made your stomach churn.

Slowly, you stepped forward, your limp becoming much more apparent now that you were here. You could relax a little.

“Hey, I’m back.” You spoke, albeit a bit weakly.

The air seemed to tighten, and you felt a bit hot.

“I know, I know. I look like shit. I feel like it too…” you spoke, your voice softening to a murmur the closer you got.

When you were a few feet away from the statue, you sighed, and dropped your bag.

Nothing had changed since last time, it seemed. Dracula’s hand was still outstretched towards where you had fallen asleep that one time.

“Ugh…” you mumbled, and finally sat down. Gripping your head gently, you opened your bag, and grabbed a water bottle.

Taking a swig, you grimaced.

“Bleh… tastes awful. Is water supposed to taste that bad…?” You mumbled, looking over the bottle, unaware of the growing distress from the other person in the room.

Your face scrunched up as you took another sip.

“Ugh. Tastes sorta like metal. Did this get left out?” You hummed as you forced yourself to drink more. You’d need the water after everything that happened, after all.

You sat there in silence for a while, contemplating what to do. What to say.

“Today was rough.” You spoke, your voice cracking.

Now that you were somewhat safe, you could feel the familiar heavy feeling sinking in your chest.

Pain. Anguish. An unexplainable sickly feeling…

That's not to mention the absurd physical pain you felt. Your injuries were screaming at you at this point.

It was probably some of the worst pain you had felt in years.

You finished your water bottle, and tossed it back into your bag with a wince.

Just turning your body hurt.

“Aw, fuck-“ you then hissed, feeling your wound on your side pull open again.

It had only been a matter of time. You had poorly treated it before leaving your family home. That, and all the walking to get here?

Yeah, your wounds reopening wasn’t a surprise.

“Son of a bitch…” you mumbled through grit teeth, and pulled the bag closer.

You may not have any potions stocked, but you at least remembered to stuff some medical supplies in this bag for when you got here.

It took a moment, but you finally found the gauze and some medicine. You hissed as you got to work.

“What a mess…” you groaned out as you started on your injury on your side.

Maybe bringing an extra shirt would have been smart. Fuck.

Still, you pushed the messy garment away, and cursed when you began to undo the bindings for the wound.

Just as you thought, the wound had reopened.

It could be worse, but it certainly didn’t look pretty. You had to clean this up, and fast.

You reached over for a bottle of antibacterial cream, only to start cursing when it slipped from your hands after picking it up.

The small plastic jar rolled on its side across the floor, until it bumped against the statue, innocently slowing to a stop at its feet.

Head hanging low for a moment, you contemplated how bad the damage would be if you just left it.

“Damn it…” you mumbled, and slowly stood to your feet.

Gripping the wound on your side, you took a few steps forward, before gripping your head.

You were so exhausted. No doubt you were dehydrated, and your body was trying to shut down to try and rest.

Standing up and trying to walk, even if it wasn’t fast, was enough to give you a headrush. It also made you suddenly feel incredibly dizzy and nauseous.

Your vision blurred, and your feet stumbled, causing you to trip over yourself.

A string of colorful curses left your mouth as you fell forward, desperately trying to catch yourself.

One of your hands flew forward, and you let out a small ‘ack!’ when your hands landed on Dracula’s statue.

You fumbled as you tried to catch yourself, your bloody hands landing on his outstretched arm as you attempted to avoid hitting the floor.

“Fuck me…” you gasped as you attempted to avoid heaving up the water you had previously drank, leaning loosely against the stone arm.

“What a-“ you began to mumble, but froze when you heard the distinct sound of stone grinding against stone.

“-…pain?” You weakly spoke, eyes widening as your head snapped back to the statue you were leaning against.

Your heartbeat thud in your ears, and you felt like you were about to choke for entirely different reasons than before.

Dracula was moving.

His head shook, and stone dust fell around him…

…And his head snapped to look at you.

“Oh sh-“

Before the words were even out of your mouth, it was as if the castle itself took a deep breath, and then there was an explosion of power that followed.

A scream was immediately ripped from your throat as you were thrown backwards, sliding on your back against the floor past your bag.

You were dazed from being thrown, but you could faintly feel the air grow thick with energy, and the very castle beneath you shook.

It was almost too much. You felt like you were going to be sick.

Almost as fast as it began, the castle’s tremors slowed to a stop, and you finally could catch your breath.

Only to choke when you attempted to sit up.

Torches on the wall began to light up with flames, one by one, and the air began to clear from all the dust in the air.

And in the center of the room, an all too familiar figure slowly stood to their feet.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe.

Dracula.

Panic began to well in your heart, and you were shaking all over again.

You were frozen. You could not move.

Dracula turned, and you felt like you were punched in the gut.

That same beautiful face you had grown accustomed to, was now full of color, and striking red eyes met your own.

Dracula was back.

You were going to die.

It wasn’t so much a thought, but rather a feeling. You knew in your current state, you were unmatched.

The silence was deafening. His gaze never left your form.

Pure, stone cold rage was on his face.

His ruby colored eyes, however, were scathing hot. Hot in a way that made you think of the fiery pits of hell itself.

The air was suffocating.

Dracula took a step towards you. Then another. And another.

Each step echoed loudly in the chamber, like a thunderclap in the eye of a storm.

Every step he took, you felt your heart attempt to jump out of your throat.

It felt slow, and so fast. Time was frozen, yet moving faster than you could understand.

Dracula grew closer and closer, and you felt yourself beginning to hyperventilate.

You weren’t ready. Of all times for this to happen, you weren’t ready.

Eventually he was right in front of you, and you found yourself frozen. All your muscles refused to move. Fear gripped your heart tight with a vengeance.

Dracula was tall. He easily loomed over you as you sat on the floor, and you had to crane your neck just to see his face properly.

This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to kill you.

You waited in bated breath for him to mock you, or at least to strike you down where you laid.

He did neither.

In fact, you nearly jumped when he began to lower himself, crouching down to your level.

He was so close… less than a foot away.

Then, he reached forward.

At first, you flinched as his hand reached for your face, and he hesitated. That nearly brought you out of your stupor. Why would he hesitate?

But then, instead of lashing out, his giant hand ever so gently reached forward, and carefully cupped your face.

Your breathing hitched, and you froze.

The action was so out of place from what you were expecting, it caused you to stop panicking from disbelief.

Dracula’s hand was tender and cool against your fevered flesh. He seemed to be looking over your wounds, which were now beginning to sting all over again.

He was quiet for a moment, and you couldn’t help but grow confused, though your heart still hammered painfully in your chest.

Finally, after a brief, tense moment, he spoke.

“Who did this to you?”

#castlevania #vlad dracula țepeș #dracula #castlevania dracula #vlad dracula tepes #dracula x reader #castlevania x reader #x reader #xreader #reader insert #belmont!reader #cw blood #cw injury #love that bites #zed.writes #long post

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bonny-kookoo · 10 months

Text

Jungkook

W.D.Y.W.F.M [Lovebites]

Jungkook could've adopted anybody else, really. He's gotten to know a lot of hybrids left and right during his time at the carecenter and foster homes- low maintenance ones, friendly ones, ones that are easy to be around. So why would he want you?

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Fox Hybrid!Reader, mentions of trauma, Reader isn't cute & cuddly in this at all, manhandling (not the spicy kind), sort of brat-tamer Jungkook but not in the kinky way if that makes sense? This is about four years AFTER the Prelude chapter!, slight angst, okay it's actually not slight, mentioned attempted violence against mc, mentioned panic attack, fluff, slightly suggestive towards the end but overall SFW

Length: 3.4k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Have you forgotten about this because I didn't

-> Masterlist

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He remembers the day he'd made it public. Not only the fact that he had you, was living with you, legally.. well, owned you-

But that he was also in a relationship with you.

Jungkook remembers the immense wave of both support and hate clashing against one another, both sides aggressively trying to win a fight that was never theirs to fight to begin with. No one ever really pushed against or with him- it had always been about you. Fans trying to shelter and protect you, others attempting to use your past against you, slandering you or even attempting to scare you away from him.

From online threats against your safety, birthday projects all over the world to people actually attempting real life harm against you on airports, and others making signs specifically about loving you to hold up during concerts.

It's a constant push and pull- but after four years now, fans had to pretty much accept the fact that you existed and had this connection to him, or stay in their delusions and theories as to why it cannot be true.

It's like it's gotten simply boring. Old news.

He's kept you at his side, safe and sound, through all these years. Doesn't hide you when he's live, or outside, or taking the plane, or filming. You're a part of his life, and he doesn't ever attempt to keep you hidden. And neither does he ever want to back down and give anyone reason to think that he's not taking you seriously- neither as someone to love, nor as someone to keep safe.

He will do both, fully. Love you, and protect you.

Jungkook is currently live, talking to fans while you're on the couch next to him, tired but unable to sleep yet because it's something you've developed ever since staying with him. It's kind of his own fault- bad timing of him leaving the apartment every time you'd sleep making you wary of leaving him out of sight even to this day. He feels bad for it- but you're both working on that these days.

He doesn't want you to believe that he'd ever leave you alone.

"Is that foxy? Yes, she's right here!" He grins, leaning back a little to teasingly pull one of your ears into frame, showing that you're halfway laying on his lap. It makes some people upset in the chat, but most find it cute. "She doesn't sleep well alone, when I don't sleep she doesn't either." He explains to the fans watching. "Which is.. my fault, I kind of messed that up, but we're working on it." He nods, leaning back forwards to read the chat. "Calvin Klein? Huh?" He wonders why he reads the name of the brand in the chat considering he himself is wearing a simple white nike shirt- before he turns around, spotting you climbing over the back of the couch, seam of your pale purple underwear displaying the brand name. "Ah, yes! We got sent some stuff from their hybrid collection. Looks really pretty!" He smirks teasingly into the Chat, and he knows his management is probably holding their heads again in agony- so he can't help but make them mad just a little more, by reaching out behind him to smack your butt once, earning a squeak from your end and a wave of emojis in the chat.

They can't do much against his relationship or you, but that doesn't mean that they like it when he talks so easily and openly about it like this, or even dares to show public displays of affection towards you. He's not supposed to.

He does it anyways.

"Calvin Klein shooting when? Ah~!" He laughs, leaning back with arms crossed. "I'm not sure if I'd be happy with others seeing her in underwear." He jokes, though there's a hint of truth in it. He's painfully possessive over you- he doesn't like you even just playing around with the other members, for example, does everything for you before anyone else could offer. He doesn't like it when you're being taken care of by others, and he knows that's a bit childish. "But maybe normal clothes. Who knows. Maybe one day." He shrugs and reads the chat that asks him what you're doing- so he turns around to check on you in the kitchen-

Instantly jumping up over the back of the couch to run to you.

"Hey hey hey, no climbing that!" He scolds on his way, pulling you down from the counter before setting you down. "What did you want?" He asks, getting the bowl from the higher shelf for you before teasingly pulling your tail. "Don't do that again, yeah?" He shakes his head as he walks back to the couch, sitting in front of the camera again. "What happened? Ah, she couldn't reach something and climbed on the counter. But she could get hurt, so I don't like it." He explains. "Why? Ah, she doesn't do it usually!" He waves off. "She really doesn't. She's just having an episode these days, so she's a bit more trouble than normal." He says, trying to laugh it off- quickly changing topic.

He doesn't want anyone to really dwell on the fact that the most recent airport accident had sent you into an episode of all things.

Episodes in hybrids can vary in severity. Yours is a pretty serious one- it's been more than 24-hours since the airport incident, and yet you're still quiet, you're still regressing, and most of all- still terribly jumpy, as if you're right back to square one when he'd first brought you home, just ten times worse.

He'd been caught off guard this time. The same as security. No one saw it coming.

The airport had been crowded from the start, which had been normal. It's not unusual for him to draw in a large crowd- you never changed anything about that at the end of the day, if anything, you just increased it with many hybrids becoming fans of you, begging their owners to take them to the airports and other places where they could garner a glimpse of you. But this time, a crazed 'fan' had slipped through security, had grabbed after you- acrylic nails scratching hard on your arm, drawing blood and making you panic, as she yelled in a language he couldn't understand fully at you, hand raised to strike.

Jungkook had barely managed to pull you close, dash towards the car with security suddenly on highest alert, until you both had reached and entered the car.

He will never forget the sight of you, terrified, scrambling to crawl over the backseats, trying to get into the trunk area instead because in that moment, everyone had been an enemy in your eyes.

Him included.

It took him more than half an hour to get through to you, reassuring you enough with his strong hold and scent to push through the fog in your mind, and make you remember that he is safe. He's your person. He's to be trusted. And he's not mad at you for biting him in that moment whatsoever.

You'd thrown up the moment you'd entered the apartment due to the stress, before you shamefully hid in the furthest corner of the shower, cowering in panic, body trembling still.

Jungkook had wanted to cry so badly while the guilt crawled up his neck. Instead, he'd given you space, and had instead called a doctor to schedule an appointment asap for today, and one home visit later, you're all bandaged up and medicated to help your anxiety until you're able to think straight again.

He doesn't like that it has to be like that. But he understands that it's all that can be done to at least make your episode a bit more manageable and comfortable.

"Yeah, I'm gonna take some days off. I actually wanted to anyways, it's not just because of what happened, so don't worry." He reassures the fans concerned over your well-being- probably mostly because of the official statement from his company, which also announced his short hiatus from all activities, and a sharp increase in security measures moving forward. You simply crawl over his lap to lay down lazily, tail smacking around, your impatience the result of lack of attention. "Is she okay? Yeah, she has been prescribed some medication, she is okay." He offers, before he changes the topic again for a moment, until he can finally find a good opportunity to end the livestream.

The moment he does, he leans back, tension leaving his body as he watches you turn your head towards him. You've not said a word since the airport- and your gaze is hazy, not quite there.

He feels guilty just looking at you.

"I won't let that happen ever again." He promises, a hand on your head gently petting your ears. "I'll protect you more seriously." He mumbles, and you just watch him, happy to gain his attention even if you've got no idea what he's saying. Right now, you can't really comprehend anything- neither time, nor words, nor anything else.

You just exist, healing in silence it seems like.

And that's fine with him, as long as you'll be okay.

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You're biting on his curled up finger, while he laughs and wiggles your head around with it, no pain whatsoever in your bites.

You do that, occasionally, even when 'normal'. Though in that state, you typically recoil from your own actions, feeling bad for them even with his patient attempts at reassuring you that it's fine with him. But like this, still in your episode, you're a lot more open with what you're usually hiding when it comes to your natural hybrid behavior.

Love bites. That's what Jungkook calls them.

You bite his arm randomly when he stops paying attention to the movie you're supposed to watch together. You bite his neck whenever you cuddle, tangled up limbs and careful nips on his skin, well aware you shouldn't mark him up- even though he wouldn't complain. You bite after his hands when he tries to feed you stuff, though his reflexes tend to be better. And you bite at his clothes and pillows and toys- those you have a tight hold on though, testing his strength every single time.

He doesn't mind any of those things. He knew what you'd be like right from the start.

Your mind is slowly clearing up a bit, the second day into your episode- though it seems like you're still hiding away behind your hybrid behavior, taking your time to properly heal and collect yourself again before facing reality. And he's fine with that.

You can take as much time as you need and want.

He's brushing your hair for you while you sit on his lap, still tired form having just woken up. He can't really leave you alone like this- and you also still need to go to your regularly scheduled appointments to make sure you're recovering physically and mentally. Last checkup they've found some growing bruises near your hip, probably from the car door having accidentally swung into you in all the frenzy, and because you can't really tell anyone how you're feeling right now, everyone including Jungkook is being a little extra careful.

Though he can't say he doesn't enjoy moments like these, where he's truly got you all to himself.

He's opening a pack of wet wipes specifically for hybrid features, and you automatically move to lay your head in his lap as he cleans your ears for you- something back then, the shelter had told him to teach you to do yourself first things first since you hated having it done with a passion, but he's never had any problems with you. Sure, you can be a brat-

But you always have somewhat of a reason for lashing out if it happens, down the line. And he's learned to take a step back and look for that reason first and foremost, before judging or scolding you.

You wiggle around a little bit as he finishes up, putting everything away before he lets you go to lay down somewhere near the windows on a mattress he'd laid out. He chuckles as he walks back inside the living room, holding out your collar towards you, and his heart breaks a little when your ears clearly droop, probably still scared of leaving the apartment. "I know, but we have an appointment today that has to happen at the doctor's." He gently speaks, squatting down to where you're stubbornly rolling away from him, shielding your neck so he can't put your collar on. He clicks his tongue, carefully putting the collar down into his lap before he pulls your wrists away from your neck. "Baby please. I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again as long as I'm with you, okay?" He presses on, and at that, he can see your ears turn towards him, before you slowly give in to his hands pulling yours down.

He carefully places the simple velvet collar around your neck, both an Identification mark and a Yellow mark with the words 'Caution; Nervous' on it. He's received it from the doctor that checked up on you right after your episode had started- and he feels awful that you have to wear it like this.

But he'll do anything to make sure you're safe.

"…kook?" you ask, and he immediately perks up at hearing you speak again, arms open to let you crawl into his lap. "M' scared." You admit, and he nods.

"I know." He agrees, because he really does know that you're still fearful. It's only natural after what had happened. "But I'll do anything to keep you safe. You trust me?" He asks, and after a moment of thinking-

You nod into his chest, making him feel unbelievably proud of himself.

He won't let it go to waste.

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It's been a week, and Jungkook has to admit- he's never been happier that you're back to your old, chaotic self.

"You know you're in trouble." He states, holding up one of his sweaters-

The strings of the hood all chewed up, clearly because of you. You're just sitting on the floor on a random pillow, tail wagging, as if you're proud of your work. "People keep staring at you!" You complain, huffing in anger as you cross your arms. "You need my scent on you, so they know you're taken!" You say, and he sighs, shaking his head.

"It's not like I'm gonna wear this with those strings still in place anyways." He tells you, and you seem to become even more frustrated now. "In fact, I'm not really wearing anything top-wise in the most recent photoshoots-" He says, and suddenly, you get up, and dash past him, your shoulder hitting his body as you push towards your room- But he doesn't want you to just lock yourself in and 'sleep it off' like you always do. He wants you to explode into his face like this- he needs you to be honest for once. "No, you'll stay right here." He tells you, but you shake your head, trying to claw his hand from your arm.

"I don't want to!" You bark at him, now simply letting yourself drop down, hanging limp from his grip, and he just watches how you throw your little tantrum. "Let me go!" You hiss up at him, but he just takes in a deep breath, and continues to hold you.

"No." He denies. "And I can do this all day long, you know?" He shrugs, dragging you over the floor by your arm into the kitchen to get some water out the fridge.

And even as he can see your eyes start to tear up, he doesn't budge.

"You know, I'd really like to help you." He sighs, sitting down on the floor close to you. "I hate seeing you cry."

"Then let me go!" You try again, but he shakes his head.

"I won't." He denies once more. "I told you that's not how it works. Over and over again." He reminds you, his grip softening a bit. "I need you to talk to me, not just bottle things up and shove them into a corner inside your head." Jungkook complains, and you deflate at that.

"I don't like that.. no one takes me seriously." You say, and he tilts his head a bit in question. "People act like.. like I'm not even there." You say quietly, and he's unsure what you mean.

"What are you talking about baby?" He wonders, helping you sit on his lap, legs over his thighs wrapped around him just like your arms. "Many people love you. And by now, almost everyone knows you too." he reminds you, but you shake your head.

"They know me as your hybrid." You say, in a defeated manner. "But people don't see me as.. you know.. your mate." You complain into his shoulder, and at that he hums to himself, seeing the issue finally reveal itself.

"You're jealous?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Sometimes." You admit. "When.. people how well this or that.. famous person fits you, you know." You finally say honestly. "And the worst is that they're often right. You do look nice with a pretty actress maybe, or-" You begin to rant, when a hand runs over your back, up and down.

"Mark me." He tells you, and you freeze.

"What?" You wonder, leaning away to properly look at him. But he just smiles, teasingly almost, and leans his head to the side a little.

"You heard me." He chuckles. "Wherever you want. Mark me up." He shrugs.

"But.. I'm not allowed." You shake your head, unsure if you understand him correctly. "I'm not supposed to."

"I do it all the time to you, don't I?" He asks, and you nod, a little shy now. "So? Only fair if you get to do it too. I'm sorry I didn't realize how.. that must've felt like to you, the fact that I always told you not to do it." He offers, a hand running over your tail.

"But they'll get angry at you-" You remind him, and he still denies it, instead leaning in to peck your lips once. You huff at that, even after the second, the third- but the fourth is when you melt, join in, and let yourself be swepped away by his love.

Jungkook knows best, you remind yourself. He knows what he can and can't do. He'll manage that.

You're mouthing at his neck on instinct, careful still- before you actually do end up biting and marking him, the evidence of this staying even the next day and the day after, causing his management to scold him numerous times- all of them Jungkook simply lets wash over him, not really taking it to heart.

He loves you, and therefore things like these are simply normal. They shouldn't be forbidden. He's not a child anymore.

And, at the end of the day, he doesn't need the fame, or money, or anything else.

He only needs you.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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duskyashe · 1 year

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NaNoWriMo Day #3

[masterlist] [part two] [part three]

Prompt found here

Warnings: Brief description of body dysmorphia, brief description of a panic attack, use of Zalgo text, please proceed with your mental health in mind (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

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The pit rage was bad tonight. He wasn't sure what triggered it, it hadn't been this bad since he nearly killed the Replacement, and that… that scared him. He'd worked long and hard to get control of his pit fueled outbursts after that incident. The memory of Timbers' fear was usually enough to knock him out of the rage, but for some reason, this time it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough to chase out the rampant thoughts endlessly screaming in his head, this isn't right this isn't right I'm not right I̵'̴m̴ ̷n̴ơ̴̇̊̏͜ṯ̷͉̞̫̋̔̏ ̷̠̀̍͐ȑ̸̝̥̙̈́͠i̷̬͙̋̅́̚g̷̙̍͂h̶̡͙̀ẗ̸̮͝ n̷̨̼̤͇̖͇̱͂̍́̌̿ö̵͕̰̼͙̥̆͜t̵̢̛̥̤̓̅̄̌ ̶̖͉͎̓r̶͇̫̜͉̙͑̓ͅȉ̸̬͌g̸̹̪̍͋͊́͝h̴̰̞̥̦͖̜̩̎t̵̢͈̙͋̄̈́̌͘͝ ̶̰̖̜̪̳̦̽̓̕͝͝ͅn̶͕̺̯̣̜͠o̸͇͇̾̽͆͛́͋͝t̸̳̠̠̊ ŗ̴̡̬̘̬̜̗͈͎̠̎̅͐͊̓̚͘ḭ̸̡̧̛̘̠̘̯̏͒̑͝g̷̳͈̩͔̜͈̰̯̱̓̓̇́̀͒̇̓̔͘ͅh̶̡̧̡̡̪̹̒͌̀̇̀̒̌̑̕͝͝t̵͓̺͗́͌͊̀̊̄͊͂ ̸̧̥̦̺̯̪̱̤̖̭́̽̒̎͒͛̓̓͛̚ṇ̸̛͍͔͎̹͉̹͌͐̀̊̿͆̈́̕ò̵̱͌̍̋̑̀t̴̡̡̮̞̠̳̫͔̗̘̀͛̏͌̐̅͋́͝ͅ ŗ̴̨̡̗͔͓͈̦̜̘͍̪͔̜͔̓̓̈̄͛̓̈́̇̽͂̔̀̾͠ͅi̶̢̧̮̟̰̘̬̩̦̦̫̞̹̭̙̖͚̒͐͗̿̉͂̿̏̈́̀́͘͘͝g̶̢̡̬͎̬̫̩̱̫̤̤̮̫̯̹̅̋̈́̑̆̒̒͐̔͐̓͠h̴̛̩̟̽̍̌͌͋̉̆̔̈́̀͋̏̎͋̈̈̚͘̕͝͠ẗ̸̡̨̢̢͈̤̹̜̝͔̜͇͉̻̦͇͎̥́̀̍̃̌̃͛̀͐͊̐̾͗͊̽̈̋̚̕͜—he wanted to scream, but all that came out was a strangled gasp and an increasingly pervasive feeling of wrongness.

He couldn't explain it, couldn't begin to describe why everything about himself just felt wrong, why his guns both helped and made it ten times worse. He was spiraling out of control and he knew it, but he refused to put that look of fear on some kid's face tonight, which meant locking himself up in his current safehouse instead of going on patrol and trying to keep the overall destruction to a minimum.

It certainly wasn't ideal, but going anywhere tonight was an even worse idea. I'm not gonna become another kid's biggest nightmare, not again not again not again not right ̷n̴ơ̴̇̊̏͜ṯ̷͉̞̫̋̔̏ ̷̠̀̍͐ȑ̸̝̥̙̈́͠i̷̬͙̋̅́̚g̷̙̍͂h̶̡͙̀ẗ̸̮͝ n̷̨̼̤͇̖͇̱͂̍́̌̿ö̵͕̰̼͙̥̆͜t̵̢̛̥̤̓̅̄̌ ̶̖͉͎̓r̶͇̫̜͉̙͑̓ͅȉ̸̬͌g̸̹̪̍͋͊́͝h̴̰̞̥̦͖̜̩̎t̵̢͈̙͋̄̈́̌͘͝ ̶̰̖̜̪̳̦̽̓̕͝͝ͅn̶͕̺̯̣̜͠o̸͇͇̾̽͆͛́͋͝t̸̳̠̠̊—

"Chirp?" Everything froze. The raging pit stilled, his racing thoughts stopped, his frantic rocking halted. What—? "Chirrup." Feelings, emotions, things he didn't know he was missing but felt so impossibly right came surging to the forefront at that soft sound and Jason found himself flirting with whiplash, trying to find the source of it. Where—? There. Standing hesitantly in the doorway of his room, a black haired, blue eyed boy stood staring at him in concern. The kid shifted on his feet slightly now that Jason's full attention was on him, but instead of tensing and running, the kid relaxed and shuffled forward a little. "Cheep? Chirreep?"

Jason pulled in a shuddering breath and, following some unknown instinct, responded. "Chirp. Chirrup. Cheet." Tears streamed down his cheeks as, finally, something in his chest he hadn't even realized was tense started relaxing. It wasn't perfect, but it was so much better than even his best days at controlling the pit rage.

Shakily, he reached a hand out to the kid, a sob tearing its way out of his throat. He… he needed something, he wasn't sure what, but the kid had something to do with it. Thankfully, that seemed to be just what the kid was waiting for, as he darted over and knelt down within easy reach, but without touching him. He looked like he wanted to hug him, but wasn't sure if that'd be appreciated, which, y'know, fair, but with the kid so close, Jason realized that he wanted that hug, badly. Since the kid didn't seem to want to push his luck, though, it looked like it was up to Jason.

Slowly, telegraphing his movements so the kid could see what he was doing and decide if it was actually something he was okay with, Jason put his arm around the kid's shoulder and, after a short pause when the kid briefly tensed before he just melted into the touch, he drew the kid into a massive hug. Again, the kid tensed just ever so slightly at the sensation, but he quickly melted into it, and soon enough he was returning it with just as much fervor as Jason was putting into it. Soon enough, Jason wasn't the only one crying, and the two of them were cheeping and chirping at one another between sobs.

He honestly lost track of time, sitting there wrapped around the shivering and sobbing kid, but by the time both of their tears had started to dry and their breathing had calmed down, Jason was both more emotionally rung out than he'd been in a long time, but also more at peace than he'd ever been in his life. The directionless rage, which had been a constant burning inferno in the back of his mind since his dip in the pits, was the calmest it had ever been. His thoughts were settled, there wasn't an overwhelming sense of wrongness anymore, and he could feel things in a way he hadn't realized he needed in order to feel grounded, to feel safe. And it was all thanks to the kid, who—who had fallen asleep in his arms, sleepy chirps and whistles falling from his lips every so often, his eyes red and swollen from crying so much, and a fist full of Jason's shirt.

As relaxed as the kid was in sleep, that hand held onto Jason's ratty Wonder Woman t-shirt like a safety line. "Looks like you're not gonna let me go any time soon, huh, kid?" Jason whispered, running a hand through unruly black hair. The kid nuzzled further into Jason's chest as the sensation, letting out a happy little trill before trailing off back into his sleepy whistles. Jason smirked slightly at the sight and decided to just get comfy where he was. "Yeah, me neither. You ain't getting rid of me now, kiddo." He may not know where the kid came from or how he managed to get into his safehouse without tripping any of his alarms, but they could talk about that in the morning. For now, Jason was going to enjoy not having to consistently fight his own thoughts and emotions.

The kid didn't seem to have a good home life, or even just a place to call home, going off his clothes, which were a dirty mix of too big and much too small, and the size of the bags under his eyes spoke to how much sleep he'd had recently, or rather the lack thereof. The kid practically screamed runaway, and Gotham wasn't known for being kind to street kids. He'd have to confirm his suspicions in the morning, but he was willing to bet the kid was running from something big if he was willing to risk slumming it on these streets. Something flared in his chest, which made him tense in wariness, too used to flare-ups of pit madness, but this was different. It didn't feel like pit madness at all, didn't feel mindless or aimless, rather, it felt protective in origin. Like he'd do anything to keep the kid tucked into his chest safe; it felt like there was more to it than that, but what that more was, was anyone's guess.

Later, he firmly told himself as he shook his head. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through the kid's hair again, his smirk growing into a small smile as another little trill escaped. He'd worry about what happened tonight later. Right now, he was just going to rest and relax. Jason paused, though, tensing slightly as he noticed something. He… was he purring? As soon as he realized it, the slight rumbling in his chest stopped. Huh. Apparently he could purr, now, too, in addition to the chirps he and the kid had exchanged earlier.

A sudden, sharp, "Chirrrrup!" startled him and kick-started Jason's purr. A sleep dazed eye glared up at him for a second before the kid relaxed back into sleep, nuzzling pointedly at the spot his purr seemed to originate from, making Jason bite back a fond chuckle. The kid knew what he wanted and how to get it, that was for sure. He sighed and relaxed again, shifting a bit into a more comfortable position for both of them. The kid was right, though, the purring was a nice touch. Jason let out a jaw cracking yawn and settled down. With how they were clinging to each other, he'd easily notice if the kid woke up before him. He'd get his answers in the morning. For now? He was going to sleep.

=============‹«⟨•·∆·•⟩»›=============

Okay, so for this one, I originally was going to add a second scene from Danny's POV, but my brain wasn't cooperating in any way, shape, or form after I finished Jason's POV, so I ended up just ending it here. It's more balanced in the hurt/comfort aspect than I wanted, but I also needed Jason's pain to feel real, and this was the result! I'm not really complaining, I just wanted more comfort ¯⁠\⁠_⁠༼⁠ ⁠ಥ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠ಥ⁠ ⁠༽⁠_⁠/⁠¯ but yeah! This one will probably end up with a sequel at some point (maybe some time this month, maybe sometime in December, who knows) cuz I really want to write Danny's POV of this, especially the morning after and going forward. So don't give up hope!

I just wanted to thank everyone who's been liking and reblogging my previous two prompt fills! You guys are too sweet, honestly (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Also, if anyone feels like I missed a needed warning, please let me know! I sometimes miss them in my excitement to share my writings with the world...

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petalsofhope · 1 year

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ᘛFresh Sans’ Relationship↴ Headcanons!

headcanons ⭑ fluff ⭑ SFW ⭑ pre-established relationship (obviously) ⭑ betrayal mentions ⭑ non-binary reader

“I thought it was a good idea to start this blog with headcanons of some characters' relationships. I tried as much as possible to keep the character as close to canon as possible – although it seems like a difficult task given what Fresh really is – and I really enjoyed this piece. Anyway, enjoy!”

Headcanons after the cut :3

For starters, there is no specific reason for Fresh to love someone: It can be for intimacy, common tastes or simply socializing. There are no defaults in this case.

However, when feelings begin to arise, your reaction will be extremely bad. You see, he is a parasite driven by survival instincts and absolutely both actions are designed for his own benefit. Why would he have feelings for something that could cost him his life? Why does he care?

This can result in lots and lots of rage and panic attacks every time he's around you. Some of this isn't your fault, though, it's just his way of dealing every time that damn chest burn comes up. He doesn't know how to react to feelings, he's gone his whole life without having to worry about them and not having control over it just terrifies him.

He will walk away from you for a while. Don't worry, he'll come back like nothing happened.

It can take months, let alone years, for the situation to change. Usually, this all ends up with some people losing their patience and calling him for an hour-long conversation. Despite some misunderstandings — like him thinking that love is some kind of terminal illness and that he was about to die — he finally understands the situation and is ready to take the next step. (When I say that, I mean him demanding that you ask him out on a date instead of him doing it himself).

This skeleton project knows absolutely nothing about dating, so expect lots of mistakes and stupid oversights at the beginning of the relationship.

He will betray you sometime by kissing someone close or even a random person. It's not on purpose, though. He's just too naive to understand the emotional significance a kiss can have, thinking it to be a random act of affection like a hug or handshake. He will apologize as soon as he sees how upset you are about it and will stop immediately, even though he thinks you are overreacting.

Overall, he's very affectionate and doesn't really understand the idea of personal space. He constantly finds ways to break into your house just to watch you sleep at night and enter the bathroom while you shower just because he wants to talk. It's cute, except when you have a stomachache or wake up screaming because there's a shadow-covered figure at the foot of your bed.

He is completely oblivious to the problems that happen in your life. If you really seem bothered or sad about something, he might try to talk and offer help, but nothing too complex. Honestly? He's already having a lot of trouble dealing with his own conflicting feelings, he doesn't want to be responsible for yours either.

He usually attacks parts of your face with kisses every time he sees you. When he wants to be more romantic, the kiss is longer and more sloppy, despite looking really passionate. He likes to hold a good amount of fabric from your shirt while kissing, usually from the waist.

After a while, there will be so much of his stuff lying around your house that all it takes is a key for him to actually start living with you. The key, of course, is only symbolic, as he always finds a way into the home, no matter how hard you try.

In short, he's just a confused and passionate guy. take care of him please

#Undertale #undertale au #alternate universe #fresh #fresh sans #fresh headcanons #fresh sans headcanons #undertale headcanons #x reader #Just me #headcanons

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fandom-shitposter · 3 months

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Back to the beginning

The Bad Batch story begins at the point where the prequel movies end and TCW finishes. Palpatine has risen to power, claimed a palace for himself, and is confident that nothing can stop him now We first see Omega in the scene where Palpatine is giving his address to his new clone slave army in a way that is the exact opposite to the way he appears He's making a virtual appearance, all shadowy and indistinct. A blue flickering holo image of a wrinkled old man shrouded in a cloak and buried in shadows, while Omega is making a personal appearance in a strongly lit blue toned room. She's young and smooth faced and not obscured in any way. She also observes 'her' troops So we're mirroring events once again and Palpatine's rise to power is replayed as Omega's fall from power. She fails to secure her desired 'apprentice', fails to win over the Vader character on the team despite making sure to be there when he regains consciousness, and is then chased from her palace. Later the chip plot is exposed (not that the boys didn't already know about it) and her mini army get their chips removed against her wishes while she can only watch, but the person whose chip goes off and subsequently attacks her only gets stunned instead of killed, unlike poor Fives She wins some small battles by foiling the Batch's plans to work against her behind her back, like in the episode where Echo dresses up as a droid, but overall power just continues to slip from her grasp and there's nothing she can do about it She panics when Hunter is lost, then sabotages Crosshair's plans to get the others to come and help him out with the less obvious subplot that he's been working on all this time, she once more fails to win him over to her side because he has no interest in playing apprentice to her, and by the time S2 starts she's been reduced to trying to offer Hunter gold and jewels while they're on Serenno in a parallel to winning Dooku over with offers of money and glory. Which once more fails to get her the loyalty she desires from him. The main advantage Palpatine ever had was that no one knew that he was the bad guy, but Omega lacks that advantage. They've known what she is and what she's done from before the show started so she was always going to lose Now she's in Tantiss she's further from having any power than she's ever been in her life. Cut off from the outside world and any way of summoning help from her own personal Dooku by the communications blackout and the need to keep the laboratories meticulously clean

She has nothing here, and she's still not going to win over her desired apprentice. All she can do now is maintain her pretence of innocence and try to break out for long enough to call for help before someone with more power than she now has works out what the source of her power is and takes it for themself. And once that happens and things have been publicly exposed she'll be available to get picked up by her long term partner in all of this and and move on to the role she's playing in the Ahsoka show as the Ventress to his Dooku. And this is why we'll be seeing so much of TCW S1 in TBB S3, because we're going back to the start of the prequel era. That means dredging up old characters, referencing old scenes and harking back to old plot points that were dropped in there right from the early days Grievous, Ventress, the Malevolence arc, Wolffe's eye being taken, and so much more So it might be time for a clone wars S1 rewatch if you're feeling up to it, just to refresh your memory In the broader scope of the trilogy of current shows Omega plays out an Anakin like role, but within the Bad Batch show she's nothing more than mirror universe Palpatine

#the bad batch

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thecreelhouse · 1 year

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some kind of muted blue

Summary: this is a request from last year, (anon I am SO sorry lmao) from a prompt list. The Duffers never really touch on Steve’s PTSD that he would inevitably develop, so here’s my take on it.

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral pronouns, no use of y/n)— platonic, but there might be some feelings if you squint.

Cross posted on AO3

Word count: 3.5k+

Content warnings: PLEASE take caution with this fic, some might find the content dark and heavy. Includes descriptions of— PTSD, anxiety, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts/ideations, suicide attempt, talks of wounds/scars/blood/etc, language, survivor’s guilt, and a whole lotta hurt with a little bit of comfort at the end.

A/N: Oh my god, hi?? It’s been forever since I willingly sat down to write. I can’t believe I finally was able to finish something. Again, heed the warnings; if you need to skip this one, I completely understand. Take care of yourself first, bbs <3

——————

Steve had no recollection of making his way home. No memory of leaving the Upside Down, or the near-destruction of Hawkins he returned to.

He can’t remember— or maybe he just doesn’t want to remember. He read somewhere once how trauma could trigger your mind to tune out of reality to save itself. Regardless, he had no clue how he survived those demo-bats earlier. The lacerations and wounds strung across his skin were the only thing keeping him from forgetting completely.

Soot, dirt, and god knows what else from the Upside Down were caked onto Steve’s skin, under his nails, everywhere. He could even feel the grit of dirt between his teeth whenever his jaw clenched.

Blood, too. Blood was everywhere, dried mostly, but still sticky and slightly damp on clothes. He wasn’t quite sure where that ended and the filth began. He wasn’t sure if it even mattered anymore.

“Steve, let me help you get cleaned up.”

Your words floated around his head as he stayed dazed, but he couldn’t bring himself back to reality. He didn’t want to. Not yet.

Steve dragged his feet as he walked into his usually empty home, not concerned with the dirt and debris he scuffed onto the floor. You kicked your shoes off as you trailed in behind him; whether following the “no shoes” rule was out of habit or respect, you weren’t sure. That didn’t matter right now anyway.

“Steve—“

Though Steve was severely injured, sleep deprived, and overall feeling like hell, he moved faster than you expected. You noticed he was heading for the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard and pool, and scurried to catch up.

“Can you just wait, please?” You reached out to him, trying to turn him around to face you, but he resisted.

Surprisingly, he spoke for the first time in what felt like hours, voice cracking as he said, “Wait for what? Shit to get even worse?”

There was nothing to respond to that with. Nothing that could take the pain away that he was in, both physical and mental.

Steve gazed at the illuminated pool, eyes glossed over with guilt, grief, and everything in between. His head was spinning with thoughts he couldn’t even begin to catch up with.

“You’re hurt, can you please let me help you? You can’t let those cuts get infected—“

A mirthless laugh slipped out of him. “Why not? We’re all good as dead anyway.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve. You can’t talk like that.” You murmured, worried. “That’s not true. We can’t just give up.”

“You haven’t done this several times. You haven’t let those kids down year after year.”

You circled him, grabbing him by the shoulders firmly. Steve refused to look you in the eye, so you shook him, gently, but enough to make a point.

“Steve. Look at me.” Your voice cracked as you held back your own tears. His eyes still refused to meet yours. “Steve. Look. At. Me.”

With his swollen, bloodshot gaze, Steve finally glanced at you, wincing when he noticed the pain in your eyes.

“I can’t—“

“You can. I need you to stay here, stay in the moment.”

“I don’t fucking want to.”

“Too bad,” You were trying not to become irritated; you knew he’s been through hell and back more than once. But with your emotions combined, after finally seeing the Upside Down and all things involved first hand, you were losing your grip, too. “Give me five things you see.”

He huffed out another bitter laugh. “We’re not fucking doing this.”

“Steve.”

He pushed away from you, leaving you stunned. “We’re not doing any more stupid fucking grounding techniques.”

You blinked back tears, throat tightening while your skin burned up, with sadness or anger, you weren’t sure.

Steve couldn’t see a normal therapist for what he had been through, you knew that. They’d never believe him, and consider him clinically insane. So, like a caring friend, you took it upon yourself to research therapy techniques for PTSD. At one time he was grateful you went out of your way to help him, but clearly it wasn’t something he wanted or really needed right now.

“I don’t want help. I don’t need help. There’s no fucking point.” Steve spat, beyond exhausted at this point. “One of these times we try to fix shit, I’ll end up dead anyway—“

“Steve, don’t say that—“

“Or one of the kids will be hurt or worse- fuck. Look at max. She nearly died. She did die.” Tears spilled down Steve’s face. “Only reason she’s alive is because El was able to help bring her back. But we don’t know if it’s enough. If something else happens, to her or one of these kids, it’s on me.”

“It’s not, Steve. You are not responsible for their every action. You can’t and shouldn’t be blamed for incidents you weren’t even present for.” Watching Steve break made your stomach churn. “Max wouldn’t blame you. No one will. We all took a risk in this, to save Hawkins and ourselves.”

Silence filled the cool, spring air for a moment, before Steve spoke again. “You should have never gotten involved. I shouldn’t have let you get involved.”

You shook your head, “Steve I pushed my way into this, I was worried about you, about everyone. You’re not to blame for anything anyone has chosen to do.”

His eyes clamped shut as he tried keeping calm, steady breaths. Again, silence fell between the both of you, so you took the opportunity to try helping again. “I’m gonna get some first aid shit, I'll be right back, okay?”

Steve didn’t respond, only gave a quick nod. With that, you ran back into the house to find some medical supplies, leaving Steve alone by the pool.

His body felt heavy with grief. He shook as his breathing became panicked. He began to feel as if he wasn’t even really there, not in his body, at least. He felt so detached and connected all at once.

Immense guilt flooded through him; it felt endless for the last several years, but tonight it was hitting hard. Max had a near death experience. Eddie was gone. All of the kids were in grave danger one way or another, and he couldn’t even take care of them or his friends.

Steve chewed his bottom lip, trying desperately to stop potential sobs from escaping him. His eyes opened, blurry with tears, ready to break the dam.

His heart ached when his mind flashed back to hours before, when he had to drag Dustin off of Eddie’s corpse, freshly torn to shreds from the demo-bats. He felt sick, wanted to vomit at the sight, but somehow kept the bile down, focusing on helping Dustin.

Steve doesn’t remember much of anything after that. Just the grief-stricken wails Dustin made. It played on repeat in his mind, over, and over, and over.

You could’ve done more. Max wouldn’t be on a death bed, and Eddie would still be alive. You didn’t do enough. His thoughts began to spiral, consuming every open space within his mind. There was no room for comfort, no room for safety, or healthy coping skills.

You think you’ve stretched yourself thin to help everyone else, but that’s nothing compared to death. Steve’s hands shook as he tangled them in his hair, pulling at his locks roughly. You couldn’t be enough for mom and dad, couldn’t be enough for Nancy, could never be enough for the kids, or your friends.

Steve’s fingers wound tighter through his hair, pulling so hard he could easily give himself a headache. He just wanted that constant stream of destructive thoughts to stop.

It should’ve been you, not Eddie. Dustin liked him more anyway. You’re not good enough to protect that kid.

“Stop,” He mumbled to himself, bottom lip wobbling as grief continued to consume him whole.

If you were just smart enough, you’d be away at some college, maybe somewhere far from here. You wouldn’t be caught up in this mess, only making it worse.

“Stop.” His voice was a little clearer and firmer, but it didn’t stop the tears from tumbling down his face.

You live in the same house as your parents and they still have no fucking clue how bad you’re hurting.

Steve tugged his hair harder, falling to his knees and clamping his eyes shut as tightly as possible. His body didn’t just ache, it felt like he was hit by a truck. His wounds were almost unbearably hot with pain and throbbing; they’re probably already infected. He tried taking a deep breath, but anxiety took the reins, forcing short, shallow breaths in, out, in, out, in and out and in and out and in and—

Everything felt like it was spinning, so he opened his eyes, trying to give himself a visual to maybe remind his brain that he wasn’t literally spiraling along with his thoughts. But that was no use. His vision continued to blur with tears, and the edges of his view grew dark. He felt lightheaded, felt his heartbeat quicken, while sweat began to pour from his skin, and Jesus, he was cold, too.

Why do you keep trying? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you just gave up?

Steve tried to speak, to calm himself, but no words left his lips. He just continued to hyperventilate.

Your parents would be happy, the kids would be happy, your friends… everyone. The entirety of Hawkins would be better off without you. Why do you continue to try and fool yourself? You’re not fooling others, that’s for sure.

With his heartbeat in his ears and tunnel vision closing in, Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he passed out, falling into the pool.

The thoughts quieted down, but not completely. He began to sink to the bottom of the pool— how deep was it again? Who fucking cares, it’s deep enough.

Just let go.

Steve opened his eyes, watching the eerie glow of the pool lights grow dim as he sank, sank, sank deeper into the water. The chlorine burned his eyes; he should be used to it from all that swimming in school, but it’s been a bit since he felt the sting. It kind of felt… comforting.

The pain doesn’t have to continue.

He wondered if these suicidal thoughts in his head were really just Vecna; maybe he was next. Did they even defeat him? He couldn’t remember anything from the fight that happened hours ago. It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

As he gently hit the pool’s floor, he closed his eyes once more, accepting things. His limbs felt heavy, as if they gave up trying to move, trying to bring him to safety. They, too, were exhausted, sick of this suffering.

It’ll only be a constant cycle of pain and grief… this can end it.

Steve was great at holding his breath for long periods of time, but his lungs began to burn the longer kept himself underwater. He welcomed the searing pain the way he did with chlorine in his eyes. It only grew, and he accepted his fate.

You deserve to end your life in the same place Barb lost her own.

He let his thoughts quiet down, as everything fell still, silent. It was almost peaceful down here.

Then, his mind thought of you. How bright your smile is. How much you genuinely care for him. How protective you are of him. Every memory, good and bad and all in between flashed before his eyes.

They don’t really care. Let it go. Let them go.

Steve’s last thoughts of you hurt more than the burn in his eyes, more than his lungs struggling to breathe, more than the chlorine seeping into his battle wounds. Before he could fully process it, he involuntarily took a breath in, with only water surrounding him to fill up his lungs.

Consciousness began to fade, and the voice that taunted him with suicidal ideation began to backpedal.

No, no, no, this is wrong. This is all wrong.

Steve wanted to move, wanted to open his eyes, but he couldn’t. The water in his lungs made him feel so heavy. He couldn’t fight it.

I don’t want to die— not here. Not now— I can’t—

He glanced up at the surface of the pool, wishing he could reach it, but it felt so far away. All he could do was hope, maybe even pray that this would end quickly.

This is it. This is really how I go. Fucking pathetic—

Something wrapped around Steve’s left arm, yanking him upward with sudden force. Then the same sensation on his right arm. The pulling was rough, unsteady, but the surface came closer to his blurry, almost blacked-out view.

One moment, Steve’s underwater, letting himself drown. The next, he’s coughing up water, bile, even a somewhat concerning amount of blood. The concrete near the pool felt rough, like sandpaper against his damaged skin. That’s not what hurt most, though.

“Steve? Steve?!”

He slowly regained consciousness; everything was blurred, his limbs felt heavy like anchors, and the taste in his mouth of blood, chlorine and bile combined should’ve made him sick, but he was somewhat grateful for the sense of taste right now.

Turned on his side, you crouched by his side as you made sure he didn’t choke on the aftermath of nearly drowning. One of your hands still clutched his left arm, fingers still digging in, as if Steve would disappear if you let go.

A loud, piercing ringing occupied his hearing, but through it he could hear you curse under your breath, exasperated.

Steve was too weak to say anything, make any sense of what had happened. Yet he couldn’t help but weakly smile at the sight of you— even if you were a blurry blob to his eyes right now.

“Oh my god, fuck, Steve? Can you hear me?” You panicked, gently shaking his arm. Then you abruptly stopped, remembering how fragile he was right now.

And then, the emotions rolled over Steve like a tsunami. The floodgates opened, and Steve began to sob. He tried to sit up too quickly, clutching his head as vertigo took over. You loosened your grip a bit before easing him back down.

“Don’t force yourself to move yet, give yourself a bit to breathe.” Your voice shook, but you stayed focused; all that mattered right now was that Steve was alive.

Steve’s voice could barely break through the gurgle of leftover water and bodily fluids, yet somehow he managed to speak past that and in between sobs.

“… I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t say it without falling into more sobs, ones that shook his entire body. You had never seen Steve like this before. Not this worn down, not this hopeless or broken.

You tried being as gentle as possible as you wrapped your arms around him. It was an awkward position as you tried to avoid laying on his chest, so Steve sat up again. He leaned into you, weak and weary as you pulled him as close to you as possible. The both of you were covered in pool water, and you were sure there had to be blood and vomit on you, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered right now except comforting Steve.

Softly, you ran your fingers through his hair, near-whispering, “It’s okay, Steve. Let it out.”

Steve’s head rested on your shoulder as he continued to sob, coughing in between every so often. “I’m s-so sor- sor—“ Another sob and harsh cough interrupted him.

“Steve, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’ve got you. There’s no need to apologize.” You assured him, reaching a hand up to the back of his neck, holding him close with a firm, but careful grip. “You’re here. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You reached to the side where medical supplies and towels were haphazardly scattered on the ground, grabbing a fluffy, clean towel before wrapping it around Steve’s shoulders and back. He shivered as he gripped the edges of the towel, keeping close to you.

The sobbing and coughing began to calm, but Steve was still weepy, still an emotional wreck, and understandably so.

“I just—“ He cleared his throat, sniffled, then continued. “I wanted the pain to stop.”

Your stomach fell at his words, and the way his eyes looked so empty as he finally looked over at you. You rubbed circles softly on his towel-covered back in soothing patterns.

“That wouldn’t stop it. It would just… this world would be so dim without you, Steve.” Your voice cracked and your hands shook, but you kept your hold on him. “You can’t do that to us… to me.. most importantly yourself. We need you. I need you. You need you.”

“Things feel so heavy and bleak. It just all feels…” Steve paused to sniffle again. “Pointless. I don’t think we, or anyone, can save Hawkins. This is all far from over.”

“You leaving wouldn’t help anything or anyone. I don’t mean to guilt you, either. I just wish you could see how truly cherished you are by all of us.” Your voice wobbled as tears fell. “What can I do to help? What can I do to remind you how loved you are? I’ll do it every day, I don’t care. I want you to know how loved you are, Steve.”

Steve shook his head as he ducked into the crook of your neck. “Everyone… you especially, do more than enough. I- I think it just goes deeper than PTSD from the… all of…” He weakly gestures with one hand around to nothing in particular, but you know he means the Upside Down.

“You mean… like childhood stuff?”

He nodded, curling into you, as if he wasn’t close enough already.

“It feels so selfish to be upset over my parents not giving a shit… because I had a roof over my head, we never went hungry… we had plenty of money… but they give all of that so much attention. If I got any attention, it was negative. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my dad say he loves me, or that he’s ever been proud of me. Mom just kinda… well. It’s not like she’s any better. But it still feels so wrong to cry over, to want to end things over.”

“Not selfish, not by a long shot, Steve. They emotionally abandoned you, and that can really fuck with your thoughts. It’s understandable why it still hurts you so much.” You keep the patterns going on his back, hoping it feels a little comforting, at least. “It explains why you’re so protective of all of us, too. But, you have to let people in. You have to let someone protect you, too.”

Steve felt more tears build up, but he weakly laughed it off. “When did you become a psychiatrist?”

“When my best friend needed someone to talk to.” You answered honestly, adding, “And you can thank the medical college’s library a few towns over for that.”

It rose a light laugh from him, still raspy and rough from what his body endured moments before. But it was genuine.

“You tell me when the thoughts come back, got it? I mean, you don’t have to. I can’t force you. But I can’t help unless you help yourself first and tell me, or someone, what’s going on. Okay?”

There was silence but he nodded, not saying anything for a moment. And then, he asked, “Do you think we’ll make it out of all of this?”

With a sigh, you answered, “I honestly don’t know, Steve. I want to say everything will work out, but this shit is insane.”

“Yeah,” He softly agreed.

“Doesn’t mean you have to go it alone, though. If you go down, I’m goin’ with you.”

Steve chuckled. “Okay, dumb move, but alright. Your choice, not mine.”

You pulled back, heart aching at how swollen his eyes were from crying, and gently cupped the side of his face. He leaned into the comforting touch.

“What’s dumb is you not letting me treat your wounds, jerk.”

“Damn, I thought we were having a moment, there.”

You shook your head smiling, before reaching over to the first aid kit. “Maybe later. Right now, please let me clean your fucking wounds, before you turn into a demo-bat.”

Steve pretended to ponder for a moment, “I dunno… kinda sounds cooler than being a human stuck in Hawkins right now.”

With an eye roll as you pulled bandages out, you said, “We can talk, when you’re ready. For as long as you need. Okay? But you have to talk about it at some point. Let someone care about you for once, Steve.”

Steve didn’t respond with more than a nod, surrendering his body and control for you to take care of him.

He wasn’t sure how things would turn out. He still didn’t have the best feeling about it all, but for once, he didn’t give in to the thoughts that hurt him so regularly. For once, his mind was quiet.

For once, and if only for a moment, Steve didn’t feel so alone.

#well idk about y’all but i love crying #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington #my fics

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tending-the-hearth · 11 months

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transformers: rise of the beast + what i loved about it

this movie was absolutely PHENOMENAL and had me on the edge of my seat for the majority of it. it's the first time i've seen a transformers movie in the theater, and i'm obsessed. i've loved transformers for the longest time, so this movie just had absolutely everything.

so below i've put together a list of everything i loved, my favorite moments, little over-analysis bits, all of that good stuff!

spoilers below if you care!!

first off, i absolutely loved how they set up the Maximals, and gave them such a distinct look and storyline. it was a great way of introducing new characters, as well as setting up the main plot device of the key!

Noah's relationship with Kris made me so emotional, like he loves his little brother SO much, and Kris loves him just as much, like UGH SIBLING DYNAMICS

Elena my beloved beloved nerd

She's one of my favorite characters in the movie, and I love how they portrayed how much she loves research, and how much knowledge she has

Obsessed with Noah keeping track of Mirage's braincell within the first five minutes of their meeting

but also their meeting + beginning scene, absolutely no thoughts in either of their heads (affectionate)

Noah and Mirage's friendship being built from the very first car chase, and them communicating so well even before Noah knows what Mirage is!!!

"I work in a museum and you've broken in and now we're hunting for an ancient artifact together" is SUCH a quality trope and Noah and Elena are so valid

Just saying I don't think I've ever happy-stimmed so much during a movie then I did when I saw Optimus and Bee show up on screen

Optimus being so against trusting the humans vs. how protective and fond he is of them in the Bayverse movies was such a good choice, and i'm so happy they gave Optimus more of a character arc!!

THEY REFERENCED CHARLIE AND THE BUMBLEBEE MOVIE REALLY BRIEFLY AND BUMBLEBEE GOT ALL SAD AND WAS LIKE "I HAVE A FRIEND" BECAUSE HE LOVES CHARLIE SM

Kris being just as protective over Noah as Noah is over him!!!!

ARCEE <3333333

Optimus continually calling Bumblebee "Bee" healed my heart he loves him so much

Going off of that, Elena finally giving us an "Optimus is Bee's big brother" confirmation made me SO happy

also yeah... Bee... baby boy... I literally thought I was going to have a panic attack bc i was so upset over him dying

listen Transformers Prime traumatized me with Bee's death first, so I still have a hold over from that era

I love Wheeljack with my whole heart and was absolutely terrified he was going to die during the battle with the Terrorcons

the Maximals are so fucking cool, I love their designs, and Primal's entire character???? beloved????? fantastic??

AIRAZOR DYING OF THE SAME THING THAT KILLED IRONHIDE I'M GOING TO BITE SOMETHING HOW FUCKING DARE

Primal having to kill Airazor was devastating

Noah running to check on Elena after that fight, Noah and Elena my beloveds 😭😭

MIRAGE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Absolutely heartbreaking

The "home team?" "home team." callback hurt my soul

also Noah being Sonic, Kris being Tails, and Mirage being Knuckles?

BUT THEN HE'S OKAY AND THE SUIT??? AND NOAH AND OPTIMUS FIGHTING ALONGSIDE EACH OTHER??? NOAH LEARNING TO WORK WITH A TEAM???? OPTIMUS LEARNING TO TRUST HUMANS????

Also Kris and Noah basically being like "new brother? new sibling?" as soon as they meet Mirage

Bee's entrance was absolutely fucking top tier, he's an icon, he is the moment

Also Scourge was absolutely terrifying, one of the BEST bad guys

Nightbird was also so so cool and also so so terrifying, the Terrorcons were insane

FUCKING G.I. JOE AT THE END??? I FULLY THOUGHT NOAH WAS OGING TO GET RECRUITED BY SECTOR SEVEN?? WHAT THE FUCK???

Also the post-credit scene with Mirage coming back was fantastic, he's such a little shit and i'm obsessed with him

overall i'm obsessed and this is one of my new favorite movies, i'm really happy the movies are getting an overhaul, and hopefully we'll see more within this section of the franchise!!

#transformers #transformers: rise of the beasts spoilers #transformers: rise of the beasts

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aikoiya · 7 months

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LoZ: TotK - Meeting One's Match (Overall Story Summary) Part 1

TW: Mentions of past rape & child enslavement (though, it's only mentioned as past trauma & is acknowledged as disgusting); panic attack; mention of death of loved ones, multiple, both canon & non-canon; mentions of child abandonment; brief sexual intercourse, but it's between 2 consenting adults; mention of pegging & strap-on use; mention of concubines, both male & female; mild violence; intrusive thoughts & pseudo-possession; mentions of kinks, but really only mentions; mentioned child sacrifice & implied torture of a minor, very bad, horrible stuff; possible others that I can't think of off the top of my head rn.

Just because they are in the story does not mean that I condone it.

And, I am very open to criticism so long as it is constructive in nature & presented politely. In fact, I encourage it!

Also, very long post.

Before reading, I'd recommend going here first: Nemma Masamuna Profile & Personality

MOM Part 1 & MOM Part 2.

And, for the rest of my Meeting One's Match stuff, go to my LoZ My Fanfic Masterlist.

---

This is Masamuna Nanema (正むナ凪音真), typically referred to as Nemma or Nema (音真, sound of truth), my Sheikah Fem!OC.

She is the most powerful woman in all of Hyrule. At least, based on pure skill, strategy, & martial prowess. She could likely even take on both Sonia & Zelda given enough time.

For what Nemma wears throughout the story, look at Nemma's Attire.

Her paternal grandfather was a Sheikah blacksmith, her paternal grandmother was an ex-Sheikah warrior who retired & opened a little restaurant, her father a member of the Royal Guard, her mother was a half-Sheikah/half-Hylian warrior, & her maternal grandmother was a Hylian. Which is where her eye color comes from as most Sheikah tend to have brown, gray, or black eyes naturally.

Her grandfather, unfortunately, died 2 years before the beginning of this story. However, Nemma's grandmother, Ayamay, is still very much alive.

She is the most powerful woman in all of Hyrule. At least, based on pure skill, strategy, & martial prowess. She could likely even take on both Sonia & Zelda given enough time.

For what Nemma wears throughout the story, look at Nemma's Attire.

Her paternal grandfather was a Sheikah blacksmith, her paternal grandmother was an ex-Sheikah warrior who retired & opened a little restaurant, her father a member of the Royal Guard, her mother was a half-Sheikah/half-Hylian warrior, & her maternal grandmother was Hylian. Which is where her eye color comes from as most Sheikah tend to have brown, gray, or black eyes naturally.

Her grandfather, unfortunately, died 2 years before the beginning of this story. However, Nemma's grandmother, Ayamay, is still very much alive.

After Nemma was born & it was revealed that she was a girl, her father had left to be a guard to King Rauru & her mother had left her not long after. So, she was raised by her grandparents. Her father, Masashai, still came back occasionally, but it was obvious that he'd wanted a son as he did not show much fatherly interest in her. However, she never saw her mother again.

Nemma was mostly raised by her grandparents; her grandfather, Takka, having taught her the ins & outs of blacksmithing. While his wife, her grandmother, Ayamay, taught her all she knew about cooking & toxins.

She comes from a long, ancient line of Sheikah blacksmiths, their techniques passed down over thousands of years, & this is a very important part of her identity. Her grandfather, Takka, having been one himself & taught her everything he knew about the craft. He has since died 2 years before the start of the story due to lung cancer as a result of improper safety when handling the forge. (His skin was actually blue due to working with iron so much without proper safety gear. It's due to this that Nemma is diligent in using protective gear.)

She is a smithing prodigy & while she is able to make damn near anything that can be forged from metal, what she's most interested in is weaponsmithing, specifically bladesmithing. Part of the reason being that it's at the intersection of most of her interests. The primary ones being blacksmithing & being a Sheikah warrior. Thus any weapon she makes does not degrade with use as she always makes sure to keep them well-maintained & sharpened. She also always has Advanced Rocktorok Wax on her at all times which automatically restores her weapon if it breaks. Just in case.

She dreams of creating a series of weapons that fully harnesses the power of the elements. Which is partly why she's become so interested in the Gerudo style of magical gemstone infusion or Zennō.

Anyway, the Toketa Hōseki Shita-Kitae (Molten Gem-Folding) & Kaijū-Hone Yakin (Monster-Bone Metallurgy) techniques are ones that she created herself, being 2 separate, but connected attempts of hers to do so. The Hōseki Shita-Kitae being an evolution of the Hachi Shita-Kitae (Eight-Folding) technique, which has been passed down among Sheikah blacksmiths for several thousands of generations.

The elemental weapons series from BotW (Flamespear, Flameblade, Great Flameblade, Thunderspear, Thunderblade, Great Thunderblade, Frostspear, Frostblade, & Great Frostblade) were actually inspired by her work. Though, she had never taught anyone her techniques during her original time period, so the series was more so an attempt to replicate her techniques.

More than anything though, she wants a husband who can, if not outright beat her, then at least match her as a warrior.

Despite her seemingly masculine interests, beyond that, she's actually considered to be an almost perfect image of Yamato Nadeshiko (大和撫子, the personification of the idealized Sheikah woman, meaning "the epitome of pure, feminine beauty"; poised, decorous, kind, gentle, graceful, humble, patient, virtuous, respectful, benevolent, honest, charitable, faithful, intelligent, & most of all, dangerous) by her own people's estimates, & actually wants to be a wife & mother very badly. Furthermore, upon becoming one, she plans to focus mostly on her family, specifically her children, while still maintaining her skills as a warrior. Is quietly eager to teach them their family & tribe's traditions. Cannot wait to bond with them through activities such as cooking & hunting like she did with her grandparents. They hold some of her fondest memories.

I know that we've been hearing the term "strong, independent woman" a lot lately, but the thing about Nemma is that not only is she legitimately strong & truly independent, but she feels zero need to tell people this. She is thus not due to herself declaring herself as such, but because she displays such qualities outward. Not to mention, she also 100% appreciates the work that men do & values them for that work, which is why she wants to be a wife & mother someday.

She wants to take on that spouse & caregiver role.

Though, sometimes, Nemma wonders in the back of her mind if she's accidentally backed herself into a corner by training so hard, because she wants a strong man, but due to having trained so much, so hard, for so long in order to prove that she didn't need her father's approval, she's afraid that she's become too strong to find a man who could protect her.

Because even though she's more than capable of protecting herself right now, she also knows that she can't do that forever. Especially not if she plans to carry children.

Other than that, she's just become so bored with Kakariko. There have been several attempts by Sheikah men for her hand, civilian & warrior alike, but none of them could even come close to meeting her expectations. Even quite a few Hylian & Ovelian men had tried their hand, but none measured up. This results in her worrying if her expectations might be too high.In her spare time, she plays a Shinobue (篠笛) to relax. A Shinobue being a horizontally-held Sheikah-style bamboo flute. She is actually pretty dang good.

— Undefined Parts of the Story & Other Little Details That Would Likely Show Up In The Story, But I Don't Know Where To Put:

Because even though she's more than capable of protecting herself right now, she also knows that she can't do that forever. Especially not if she plans to carry children.

Nemma will probably end up having beef with Zelda. Not on a personal level, more so just due to what she represents. Nemma just doesn’t trust technology that’s too advanced & honestly sees the way the Zonai & the future Sheikah’s tech uses magic in a similar way to how many view heavily processed American cheese. She believes that there should be a more defined balance between progress, technology, nature, & tradition.

Believes that weapons should remain manual, so she’d be horrified by the Guardians & the Divine Beasts & would likely see how Calamity Ganon managed to turn them against Hyrule as validation of her distrust of them.

The Sheikah Slate would grind her gears a bit, due to its use of automatic sealing magic, but not to nearly the same degree as other things.

She wouldn’t really mind the Purah Pad though, as it appears to be mostly for navigation, picture-taking, & cataloging. Though, she’d mind it even less if it had more icon options & a way for her to apply personalized notes to those icons. Like, you have to tap on the icons to get those notes. (Would likely still prefer Pictoboxes, though, considering they can instantly produce pictures while the Sheikah Slate & Purah Pad seem to need an entirely different machine to do so. I mean, if Pictoboxes still existed. Knowledge of them, let alone their creation methods, seems to have been lost.)

Surprisingly, sees the teleportation function as quite useful in case of emergencies, but also sees how ready access to such would likely cause overreliance & laziness.

Another reason why Nemma doesn’t trust the Zonai or Sheikah tech is how… frankly unreliably disposable they tend to be.

Moving on, on the day she left Kakariko, she cut off her hair at the nape. In Sheikah custom, this had 2 symbolic meanings depending on the context. When someone else does this to them, specifically a higher-ranked Sheikah, it symbolizes that the one getting their hair cut is dishonored & has shamed both themselves, their family, & the Sheikah as a whole. However, if a Sheikah does this to themselves, it is a symbol of cutting off ties with the Royal Family & becoming a Ronan.

The reason being that in the old days, long hair was considered a symbol of loyalty to one's king. (This is inspired by Japanese custom & tradition. At least, as far as I've learned of it.)

Her hair has since regrown itself down to her shoulders, but the fact that her hair is as short as it is, would mark her back then as an outcast amongst the Sheikah of her time.

She's still growing it out more, possibly to ass-length, but the ends of her hair will likely always have that straight-edged cut when let down.

She didn't do this due to having anything personally against the Royal Family themselves. More so, she did not wish to be anyone's puppet.

Though, she admits that it's possible that her father's rejection of her in favor of spending 97% of his time in service of the Royal Family may have influenced her somewhat minor dislike of them.

She actually used to dislike them a lot more before her kidnapping as a child, as learning that Rauru sent people to rescue her smoothed over a lot of her dislike of them.

As a side-note: She has a surprisingly dry, deadpan wit that will sometimes leave Ganondorf in stitches. It's a rare occurrence, so when it happens, it tends to come as a shock.

Also, despite how stoic Nemma normally is, she's actually very expressive with her hands & arms. As a result, when she's around people that she doesn't trust, she tends to keep her arms folded over her chest, or by her sides, or hands planted on her hips, or folded together behind her back in order to keep them still.

But with someone she trusts, she uses her hands to gesticulate. Part of the reason being due to her fluency in Shadow Hand Speak (SHS). It's not an official Hyrulean sign language, nor do many even know about it to begin with, being mostly used by Sheikah & sometimes Yiga as a means to communicate with each other quietly on stealth missions.

She doesn't always use SHS when speaking, but almost out of habit, it feels unnatural to talk & not have her hands doing something. So, she still unconsciously uses her hands to get her meanings across or for emphasis.

It's just a bit of a quirky thing she does around those she trusts with her life. And one she honestly finds a bit embarrassing.

Ganondorf thinks it's effing cute. Sometimes, he tunes her out to see if he can figure out what she's saying just by watching her hand gestures. Which sometimes gets him in trouble when Nemma realizes that he isn't listening.

It annoys her a little bit when he does it, though she can never be 100% sure that he isn't listening because he always seems able to respond as if he had been.

Also, whenever out & discussing business or sensitive information, she tends to fold her hands over her mouth in a natural position to dissuade lip-readers. Likewise, she too can read lips.

Nemma also has a teeny tiny bit of a mischievous streak in her. It doesn't show itself often or explicitly, but it does show.

Specifically, when Ganondorf doesn't know she's entered the room.

In such situations, she'll sometimes pad up to him using her stealth training & wait till he notices her, then not react when he jerks in surprise.

Sometimes, she'll even shadow him playfully, making him slightly paranoid about being watched before suddenly letting him see her.

It frustrates him slightly, but he also can't find it in himself to hate it as he quite likes the playful light in Nemma's eyes & the slight uptick at the corner of her lips.

At most, he'll roll his eyes at her uncharacteristic impishness & maybe grumble slightly.

Though, he also takes it as clearance to mess with her as well.

---

Nemma will likely be invited to help the Gerudo huntresses catch a Cobra Shark at some point. Cobra Sharks are basically sandy-colored sharks (resembling Zebra Sharks, but with stripes instead of spots) with no eyes, & an enzyme in its saliva that can cause terrible infection when bitten, thus giving it its name. They live in the loose, flowing sands around the desert. The best method for killing them is luring them to the surface & stabbing them with spears. However, they’re also very vindictive & can jump onto the more solid sand & follow you for a decent distance before they inevitably become sitting ducks.

---

Whenever Nemma is hired for an assassination, she always hides her face behind a Mask of Truth.

She enjoys her anonymity as it allows her to go about her day without worry.

Her policy is that she must be paid half up front & half after. She finds that this makes it so she guarantees she'll be paid, while ensuring her client that she will provide. In a lot of ways, she is much like Shelly de Killer from Ace Attorney in the way she operates.

She has very few lines that she will not cross & those lines are always made 100% clear to her clients.

She will not in any way harm a child.

She will not be complicit in slavery or any form of sexual abuse.

If, at any point, she finds that her client has violated any of these rules or has lied about such, she reserves the right to make them her next target.

And if they are in any way connected to a group or organization that participates in such activities, even unknowingly, don't be surprised if the members of said group begins to mysteriously disappear over time.

Nemma has exactly zero qualms with killing if she views it as necessary so long as it isn't kids. That is her one line.

Slavers, rapists, kid killers, & pedophiles are at the top of her list of people to kill immediately. They are not people to her. They are what amounts to a dangerously invasive species of animal that are directly harming the ecosystem & need to be hunted down like rabid dogs. Pests to be exterminated. A blight upon the land that she would wipe clean with her own hands. Living, breathing targets. Prey. If she ever meets anyone with such sinful habits, don't expect them to be an issue for long.

Absolutely revels in causing such individuals inordinate amounts of pain before eventually killing them. Especially those who have actually acted upon those desires. She's actually done some pretty damn heinous things to people like that, though she feels no shame or guilt for such.

The reason she bears such virulent hatred of these individuals is partly due to having been kidnapped by slavers as a young girl. She'd been... It doesn't matter. Her first kill had actually been one of those same slavers, which had resulted in severe punishment. She had only been there a week when her grandparents, several Sheikah men, & a group of Royal Soldiers, including her father, had come to save her as well as the other slaves.

You see, while slavery hadn't been legal in Hyrule even before the Zonai came, that didn't stop some very sick-headed individuals from getting their jollies off on exerting power over others. As such, the Hyrule Royal Family had been on a campaign to fully end it since Hyrule's known inception. It's one of the few things that she agrees with the Hyrule Royal Family about.

And, it turns out that, while yes, Masashai did come to help save her, he'd actually been ordered by Rauru to aid the group that had been planning to raid the slavers' base.

And, while he did show momentary concern, sympathy, & even pity for his daughter, it didn't seem to be enough to change his neglectful ways towards her.

That was when Nemma realized that she'd never be enough for him & just entirely stopped trying. Even stopped writing to him altogether.

She became absolutely determined to prove to him that she didn't need him or his approval in any way. That she'd become a great warrior without him.

Though Nemma doesn't know it, while Masashai hadn't ever opened any of her letters or even replied, that didn't mean that he just threw them away. Though, he had actually begun to burn her first couple of letters, thinking it best to cut her out of his life so that he could focus on his duties as a royal guard, but had admittedly felt guilty for it & put the fire out before too much of them could be consumed. He then instead opted to keep them in his bedside drawer at home.

There is some part of him that actually has some form of recognition for her as his daughter. It's just that he doesn't care enough to make an actual effort.

Back to Nemma, before being kidnapped & taken advantage of, she was actually a very happy & expressive kid with a love for adventure & could even be a bit rash at times. Oftentimes not even really planning things out or taking into account the consequences of her actions. Back then, she often waved off her grandparents' advice, thinking it was just old people talk. Though, she'd always wished to be a proud Sheikah warrior & blacksmith like her grandfather, even back then.

Due to her trauma, not just from the overload of emotional stress from being trained as a certain type of slave, but also from her having finally realized that her father had abandoned her & likely wouldn't have even helped save her if not for King Rauru, Nemma developed alexithymia. Which is a difficulty expressing one's own emotions, specifically in identifying their thoughts & feelings.

It's something that she's been dealing with ever since. She's definitely gotten better, but it… well, it's rough on her. This is partly why she's become so stoic.

Of course, it isn't the whole reason, but definitely part of it.

However, since then, Nemma has become more stoic, serious, reserved, careful, & calculating as a result of her traumatic experience & taking her grandparents' words into more consideration as she had begun to seek them out for comfort more often. Having also grown to hate slavers & those who harm others, especially children, for their own personal gain & is always on the lookout for them. Fully prepared to end their lives at a moment's notice.

In this way, while generally level-headed, she can be a bit unhinged & even vindictive at times. At least, in these situations.

As such, she'll definitely have issues with the Gerudo once she learns of their Vo'màzren (concubini, otherwise known as male concubines) & Vàsitulïxan, dominatrixes paid specifically to break in & train male concubines via domination. One such method involving the use of what is, essentially, magical strap-ons that are embedded with magically enhanced Amethysts, which are known for making connections between things, specifically the mind, spirit, or body & something else. (These are known as Stolkén.)

While the possibilities of such gemstones & their uses fascinate Nemma, to do something like this without one's consent chafes her majorly.

Even still, it is something that has just been a part of the Gerudo lifestyle since the Sûl'si Nàshàlay'è (literally, the Curse of Castration. Referencing the female-only curse) befell them nearly 40-50,000 years ago. (Not that anyone remembers this fact.) As such, the Gerudo back then had a good amount of them, though only the higher ranked Gerudo had full, legit harems & not even many of them did. Such individuals included the captain of the guard & the 3 Vaen, who worked at a place known as a Surré Qasrehs (Pleasure Palace; though it's really just a very big tent before the timeskip), but were very high-ranked individuals. There could only ever be 3 Vaen at a time. If you want to know more about them, then go to my Vae & the Spring of Talthïrï post. Warning, it's weird.

Likewise, the sex industry there, specifically prostitution where Vo'màzren also worked in the Pleasure Palace alongside the 3 Vaen & often were trained by them, tended to entirely revolve around unowned Vo'màzren, which were referred to as Hra'tàkdham Vo'màzren (Free-Use Concubini), & they weren't even really paid. Instead, their rewards tended to be food & lodging, though the most well-behaved were treated better & the best, most talented, or most experienced tended to be showered with luxury & finery. It was very much not a good thing.

Admittedly, there turned out to be a handful of Vo'màzren who seemed to "come around" to their new lifestyles, some even taking to it like a fish to water. And those were often referred to as Nebdhàhi Vo'màzren or golden concubini. But the truth of the matter was that this generally happened due to them sort of brainwashing themselves into enjoying the lifestyle, even beginning to believe that they didn't deserve a better life. Admittedly, some truly did enjoy it, but those were few & far between.

Disgustingly, this Pleasure Palace tended to have 2 draws. Sexual gratification & the right to be bred. And repeatedly purchasing a free-use Vo'màzren for the night to breed with could be much more costly depending on the skill & quality of the Vo'màzr. Though, that could be avoided by rather than renting them for one night, instead purchasing them outright as one wouldn't need to buy multiple sessions as the man would be theirs. At the same time, those Vo'màzren who fathered children, while considered fathers, were still thought to be part of the lowest class & not given the authority or respect that they were due as the one who helped to facilitate the child's existence.

Anyway, this Pleasure Palace was the backbone of the sex industry within Gerudàn culture & was where Vo'màzren were trained & where those that were purchased as a private slave were prepared for their new mistresses. It really was a truly rotten experience. The only chance that such men had of a decent life was through romancing their mistresses & eventually becoming their husbands, which would elevate him to normal citizen status & would thus grant him rights as a free person.

Luckily, the enslaving of children is strictly forbidden or Ganondorf would have absolutely zero chance, but the fact that male slaves & even harems of abducted men were still a thing for their culture, would still be a point of contention for Nemma. If Ganondorf has any hopes of gaining her favor & keeping it, he'll have to change that. Though, hearing Nemma's story, her experiences, & her perspective on it will likely help in this.

As mentioned above, though, even after Ganondorf abolished it, there were a handful of men who chose, for one reason or another, to remain doing that sort of work. As such, while Vo'màzren were freed, the industry still managed to survive so long as they treated the men with rights & actually paid them.

While Ganondorf & Nemma generally get along very well. One thing they will consistently fight over is the practice of Pàras’éda Vaivàq al’Eabū (Making Womanous the Enemy).

You see, due to the Gerudo being a female-only race besides Ganondorf & the fact that the Gerudo currently have a bad relationship with Hyrule as a whole. The Gerudo are forced to find ways to create the next generation. You see, due to the Gerudo being a female-only race besides Ganondorf & the fact that the Gerudo currently have a bad relationship with Hyrule as a whole. The Gerudo are forced to find ways to create the next generation. This way tends to be either the use of the Vaen, Vo'màzren, or the act of raping their male enemies.

So, since Vo'màzren were much reduced & they wished to prevent as much inbreeding as possible, Pàras Vaivàq al’Eabū became a near necessity.

It was also something that has been a necessity for millennia & if a Vai especially liked a conquest, she'd often keep him.

This was how the Gerudo sex industry initially began.

Over time, the availability of Vo'màzren due to the industry allowed for Pàras Vaivàq al’Eabū to not happen quite so often, but now that there aren't nearly so many Vo'màzren available, it's caused the price for their services to skyrocket.

This, however, forces Gerudo with lesser means to have to find their own men, which, inevitably, resulted in Pàras Vaivàq al’Eabū becoming common again.

It's very much not something Nemma is okay with. However, her logical mind & hatred of delusion forces her to acknowledge that the Gerudo really & honestly don't have very many options.

Especially since Ganondorf abolished slavery.

At the same time, sometimes… sometimes she struggles with her morals.

And she'll get frustrated & snap sometimes.

The fighting never lasts because Nemma knows that the Gerudo are in no place to be picky.

As such, she sees it as a necessary evil. One that she loathes & would readily drop at a moment’s notice.

---

Also, I'm giving Ganondorf small Orc-like tusks & slightly pronounced upper canines, which results in him having a tiny bit of an underbite. The upper canines being much less pronounced than the tusks. Not anything too terribly noticeable until he steals the Secret Stone & becomes the Demon King. But before that, you can tell they're there when he's talking or smiling or just has his mouth open.

I'm sort of just making this a male Gerudo thing.

He also likes to nip, bite, & lightly nibble Nemma playfully using those very tusks & canines. Whether it be her neck, shoulders, ears, the tips of her fingers (often with a playful little smirk before kissing the pad), or something else.

His kisses will also tend to tickle her due to his beard, which causes her to smile if not giggle on occasion.

Which always gets him to smile. Partially because she just doesn't laugh often & partially because her laugh is just so delicate & feminine, like tinkling bells, compared to how she normally is & the juxtaposition is simply breathtaking to him, often causing his heart to flutter.

Ganondorf will sometimes even rub his chin against her skin just to make her laugh.

As a matter of fact, Nemma loves Ganondorf's beard, thinking it looks very rugged & manly. She just has a huge thing for masculinity.

And as an aside, I think Ganondorf is a bit touch-starved, though he's initially unused to & uncomfortable with non-sexual physical affection. However, he wouldn't put up a resistance & once he gets used to it, he'll crave it like a dying man in the desert craves water.

I also think that Ganondorf would find this fact embarrassing if he ever realized it.

Also, the fact that Nemma refuses to go anywhere without some form of weapon, even to royal affairs, is something that Ganondorf would both expect of her & would deeply respect. Especially when he doesn't even have to mention said expectation.

This would only further cement his belief that the little Sheikah was the perfect queen, born to rule at his side. It'd warm his chest in an unusual way that he'd still be unfamiliar with.

He also tends to get up at the crack of dawn every morning to practice with his weapons. He finds it meditative.

Nemma initially avoids joining him as she believed it was his “me time” & she didn't want to invade that, so she did her morning routines elsewhere. It wasn't until he inquired what she did in the mornings & she said that she had easy morning workouts. He then asked why she didn't join him & she replied that she didn't want to intrude. But then he offered & she quickly begins joining him, not seeing any reason not to.

I'm also gonna have him eventually take up the Sitàr, which will seem to pair quite well with Nemma's Shinobue playing. It'll create a type of sound that is very interesting, but harmonizes in a unique way.

He'll have never considered the idea of taking up an instrument before meeting Nemma, having seen it as a waste of time when one could instead spend that time on something more productive.

However, Nemma will ignite within him a deeper appreciation for music & cultures in general. Especially his own. He'll find it to be yet another meditative experience that he quite enjoys.

His tunes tend to flow lazily through the air as, much like Nemma, he tends to play it to relax & unwind. Doesn't really go into it intending to create songs, but that's what he ends up doing.

Turns out that Ganondorf is actually quite gifted & creative when it comes to music.

---

Anyway, Nemma fights using swords with her favorite being Namikaze no Odori, which is a Katana that she forged herself using the blacksmithing techniques that her grandfather taught her. However, she generally only uses it in emergencies as it is extremely overpowered & if there's one thing she loves, it's a challenge.

Most other times, she has a pair of Sheikatō (canonically called Eightfold Blades) & Kodachi that she can use. Two Sheikatō sheathed at her hips, two Kodachi strapped to her thighs, & her Namikaze no Odori sheathed across her back. Normally, she'll switch between different combinations of them depending on her opponent. Sometimes, she'll use both Sheikatō, sometimes she'll use both Kodachi, & sometimes she'll use one Sheikatō & one Kodachi.

The ones she uses, while exceptional quality due to her having made them herself, really aren't that special beyond the fact that they are made of a Zoridium steel alloy. Zoridium being what Zora weapons are generally made of & what lets said weapons boost attack when wet.

For specifics on how Nemma made the Namikaze no Odori, what it's made of, ect. Go to my Namikaze no Odori post.

She's actually learned that when in a pinch & no water was available, blood works just as well as water. So, when she needs an extra boost, but doesn't want to use her best weapon, she will just run a blade across her own palm. Though, when in a fight with things that bleed, including monsters that aren't almost purely made of evil magic, she doesn't even really need to do that & all she has to do is land a good hit on them.

As a swordfighter, she is proficient in both Iaidō & Yadome no Jutsu. Iaidō being a style of withdrawing one's sword from its scabbard swiftly & efficiently so as to attack with a flick, flicking blood from the blade, before returning it to its scabbard. This is an art that demands total situational awareness & control. Meanwhile Yadome no Jutsu is the somewhat legendary military skill of arrow-cutting or blocking. It allows one to either cut or deflect arrows from the air with your sword.

Her training in Kenjutsu involved things that bring to mind the Flurry Strike, Extra Attack, & Opportunist feats from DnD, with further training depending on specialization.

For instance, Nemma specializes in the Daisho style of Kenjutsu. Or dual-wielding Wakizashi or Sheikatō. Which allows her to perform techniques like Dual Blades, Dragon Blades, & Whirlwind Blades, from DnD.

When she gets old, Nemma plans to start using a Shikomizue (仕込み杖, Prepared Cane) because she likes the idea of surprising bandits who think she's an easy target. Her grandpa actually did that quite often when he was out delivering his work to customers. While not a dedicated fighter himself, that didn't mean that he couldn't defend himself &, in fact, he was very good at taking attackers by surprise & finishing them off quickly.

Then, there's Kaihi Tanren (回避鍛練, Evasion or Avoidance Martial Training) which trains the body in things like Uncanny Dodge, Evasion, & Elusive, again, from DnD. (I'm taking a lot of inspiration from a 5e homebrew for a Ninja class, here.)

There's also Shinjun Tanren (浸潤鍛練, Infiltration Martial Training) which eventually lets her perform what amounts to Infiltration Expertise, Acculturate, & Imposter, once again, from DnD. Which, Acculturate is actually extremely useful to her as it allows her to be able to learn any language from any place she goes to in a very short amount of time provided she studies how those around her speak it for at least an hour each day for a month or so. She'll most likely use it to learn the Gerudo language too.

It'll likely stun the Gerudo too.

She is, likewise, exceptionally skilled in Kiridō, both Kirijutsu & Santoku, which are 2 different types of knife styles. Kiridō being the overall use of knives, whether for fighting or for cooking. Kirijutsu specifically being the martial or self-defensive branch of Kiridō while Santoku refers specifically to the use of the kitchen knife. Santoku translates to either "three virtues" or "three uses." Which refers to the 3 uses for kitchen knives: slicing, dicing, & mincing. While one can learn Santoku separately from Kirijutsu if they so desire, it is thought in Sheikah culture that in order to get the full understanding of all that a Hōchō (kitchen knife) is capable of, one must also know how to defend oneself with that Hōchō. Which, while Hōchō are not designed with the thought of fighting specifically in mind, they are designed to be able to be used in such a way & be effective at it if necessary. This is due to it being said that the best knifefighters know how to use a Kiri to cook just as easily as to fight. Interestingly, the best Sheikah chefs are also skilled in knifefighting.

Nemma tends to not only enjoy, but actually thrive when learning such multipurpose concepts as it scratches that practical part of her brain quite nicely & in a very satisfying way.

While on the road, she really only brought with her a Gyuto-Bōchō & a Honekotsu-Bōchō. A Gyuto-Bōchō is a Chef's knife & one of the most versatile, being able to do the 3 Virtues of the kitchen just as easily as a Santoku-Bōchō, plus much more. And a Honekotsu-Bōchō is, quite simply, a butchery knife able to cut through heavy meat & bone just as easily as it can do fine, detailed meat-cutting work such as fileting, depending on whether she sharpens or dulls the blade before use. Which is useful when she has to prepare her kills when she goes out hunting. (The Honekotsu-Bōchō is technically a fusion of 2 real world bone & meat kitchen knives: Honesuki-Bōchō & Hankotsu-Bōchō. This is just my attempt to condense things a bit.)

She avoided getting any others or even making herself any as a full Kamado Nakama (Kitchen Companion, a kitchen knife set of Sheikah make) would take up a lot of space in her pack, especially a Mamena (diligent) set. Not to mention, that it was tradition for a woman to get her first Hōchō-Kaku (basically a knife block for the kitchen) when she marries & settles down. Typically as a gift from her husband for their first home together. And usually, it was a Katei-Yō or Home Kaku which generally aren't as fully-stocked as Mamena Kaku tend to be unless the man is either marrying a chef or is a chef himself.

---

And while her preferred weapons are swords or knives, she's also very skilled at using a Jōhyō (chain kunai or rope dart). She tends to wear a Jōhyō Han Kote when on a job, which is actually a very practical, traditional multipurpose Sheikah weapon that doubled as a convenient way to make travel more efficient & sort of inspired the Hookshot. Its most well-known purpose is as a weapon, being capable of working like a regular Jōhyō or a Hidden Blade in combat. Basically, having a dual-use as both a long-ranged weapon & short ranged one. When using it for combat, she can either just let the kunai blade out to use it as a short knife, shoot it out like a clawshot to stab someone, or uncoil it so that she can whirl it around at her side much like WW Link does with a grappling hook & either swing it at anyone who gets too close or throw it at someone farther back.

It can also work as either a Hookshot or a Grappling Hook depending on how it's used.

She also has a secret compartment in her Jōhyō Han Kote where she can put poison, which much like in Assassin's Creed, she can use to covertly assassinate targets, injecting them with it, without drawing attention. It also has what amounts to brass knuckles or Tekkō (鉄甲) built in much like her other Han Kote. Though, it's less actual Tekkō & more so metal studs welded to the knuckles of the Han Kote.

For reference, this is what I mean when I say a Jōhyō Han Kote:

Though, with a guard around the back of the hand. It's a very versatile & useful tool. Also, not my art. I DO NOT claim it as such. If I could underline the "do not" there, I would.

She also keeps a Phrenic Bow on her at all times & is a deadshot (excellent for when she has to make a hit from afar & not get seen), but she'll eventually find that she prefers a Gerudo Bow as their design allows for higher accuracy & more power. Though, not so much the golden hue as it increased visibility. However, she may eventually find that she's better with a double-limbed bow.

Though, a bow isn't her preferred weapon. She typically uses it when she can't get up close & personal with a hit. At the same time, she generally prefers to use it for hunting animals. She remembered hunting with her master growing up.

She wishes that she knew more about bowyering as she gets tired of having to carry around so many different types of arrows. She's just never been very good with woodwork, though she was learning & was determined to be able to one day match her grandmother's skills at it as well as with general woodwork. She can currently fletch & carve figurines okay, but not much beyond that. If she were any good, she'd try to make a sort of spellcaster's bow that would use her magic to infuse regular arrows with elements.

As it stands, she has to buy specific elemental arrows & she doesn't know the Zonai's Weapon Fusion rune. She's been trying to learn to replicate the effect using Sheijutsu or Fūinjutsu, but it's slow going. Once she does though, she'll likely begin carrying around a pouch of arrow-compatible monster parts. Though, she'll tend not to use eyeballs much as she prefers not to rely on them to make her mark & will really only use them when necessary.

---

As mentioned before, Nemma also always has some form of weapon on her & is simply not comfortable unless she has some tangible way to defend herself on hand.

The Kôgai (笄, Hair Sticks) she's wearing? Their tips are made of metal & sharpened to points, thus allowing them to be used as daggers in a pinch. If she wears heeled slippers, then she needs them to be specially made with blades in the heels &, if she can get it, metal reinforced toes.

She always has a pouch full of Deku Nuts on hand, whether for a distraction or what have you.

---

When she learns of them, she'll think most of the Yiga are pretty pathetic, at least compared to herself, & that the entire Kohga line was full of lazy buffoons & wastes of space that refuse to work. (Which, the first time Ganondorf hears this, he actually gives a mighty, hearty guffaw; a full belly laugh that rumbled like storm clouds in his chest.)

She fully acknowledges that she isn't normal & that the Yiga are legitimately dangerous to the untrained & even some of the more well-trained. They are, after all, bandits & are known to ambush Sheikah & blond individuals, robbing & even killing quite a few people.

But that doesn't stop the fact that she'd only consider someone like Sooga a decent fight if they ever, hypothetically, met. Maybe. Depends on how badass the writer wants to make him. I still don't think she'd lose to him, though. And even on the slim chance that he did win, he'd have to catch her completely off-guard & use his superior male strength against her right out the gate & take her out as soon as possible. No testing the waters.

Though, even then, the next time they'd fight, she'd be able to counter him. However, considering that she gives Ganondorf a run for his money, I just don't see him getting the upper hand.

In this way, I consider the 4 strongest fighters to be, from best to least best to be: Link, Ganondorf & Nemma (in different areas), then Sooga.

---

Actual Story:

Ganondorf & Nemma meet when she came to the Gerudo Encampment to learn their Dawallahan style of forging scimitars & then use Dawasaaq steel (basically the Hyrule equivalent to Damascus steel) from the Gerudo Highlands to remake the Namikaze no Odori's blade, starting by infusing Zoridium into the Dawasaaq steel, which is ideal for blade creation. This wouldn't increase the Katana's base attack by much, just by 5, making it a base of 115 & 230 when wet, but would instead greatly increase its durability, which means she wouldn't have to be quite so religious in its upkeep & the blade itself could take more abuse before being overtaxed.

During which, she caught sight of the behemoth of a man training with his soldiers & noticed the weapon he was wielding, recognizing the Katana (刀, Two-Handed Sword) he was using.

Well, she supposed that it was more a Wakizashi (脇差, One-Handed Sword) in his hands than a Katana.

Turned out that the Sheikah who Ganondorf had commissioned it from had actually been Nemma's grandfather & that she remembered him making it as well as the others in the Shōki (瘴気, Miasma) series. Shōki being the name that Takka gave to the Gloom series of weapons as the weapons were designed to be able to channel Ganondorf's Malice or On'nenmaryoku (怨念魔力, magic power that is fueled by a mix of hatred, grudement, malice, vengeance, & resentfulness that can consume spirits & make them furious or malicious & evil spirits even more so).

Initially, he was suspicious & asked her what the other weapons in the series were as only the Katana was present. As he did so, he eyed her subtly, admitting inwardly that she was very attractive. If her words were correct, he wouldn't mind a one-night fling with the tiny Sheikah woman. It's not like a Hyrulean would matter much when he only intended to fuck her & be done.

He could also see how she tried to hide how her own eyes roamed his form in return, which caused him to smirk internally. The giant of a man knew that he was a prime specimen, not just by Gerudo standards, but also by Hyrulean ones. Though, if she turns out to be any good, he might consider making her one of his Vamàziahen.

And, indeed, the Sheikah did observe him. Taking in his masculine features. His rippling muscles under taught, slightly greenish dark skin. His long, russet hair pulled into a topnot. His striking golden eyes like the piercing gaze of an eagle. His strong features & aquiline nose. And especially his incredible height, around 9-10 feet.

The guy was ma-hoo-sive!

Nemma thought a moment, her nose scrunching ever so slightly, before replying that one was a Naginata (薙刀, Polearm or Spear), & then there's the Daikyū (大弓, Samurai War Bow) & Konbō (棍棒, Club, Stick or Cudgel) that were made as a collaboration between her grandparents as her grandmother was the woodworker & bowyer in the family.

Ganondorf's brows rose nearly to his hairline in surprise, then interest. That was quite the coincidence.

He then commented that her grandparents' work had served him quite well, but then he expected as much from the famous Masamuna forging clan of Kakariko. And proceeded to ask for her name.

To which, she replied "Is it not normally considered polite to introduce one's own self before requesting the name of another?"

Though a tiny bit miffed, Ganondorf hummed & admitted the truth in that & did as such, introducing himself as Voe'attàr Gánōndōrfè Gárorrzïr of the royal Gerudo house of Drāgamīr, Son of Gàlaaqkōba, King of the Gerudo, specifying that the Hyrulean transliteration of King Ganondorf Dragmire would suffice if she struggled to pronounce the Gerudàn pronunciation of it. (Though, he says it with a bit of a sneer, as though he weren't expecting much.)

Then, requested her name once more.

Honestly, the tiny Sheikah should be grateful that not only was he in a good mood today, but that her grandparents' work was so exceptional, as otherwise he would've simply demanded her compliance.

However, rather than apologize for her slight against a king as he expected, she simply bowed in greeting & introduced herself as "Masamuna Nanema," stating that it was an honor to make his acquaintance.

They chatted for a bit before, feeling oddly charmed by her, Ganondorf then invited her to observe his training with his soldiers, hoping to impress her & get a good fling out of it, which Nemma thanked him graciously for the offer, but rejected.

Ganondorf was shocked by the audacity, then stunned further when she, rather cordially, challenged him to a duel to prove to her that he still deserved to wield her grandfather's work.

Part of him was insulted at the idea that he wouldn't be, while the other admired her courage & gall to actually challenge a man, a king, one twice her size.

Chuckling at the very idea of losing, Ganondorf asked what she planned to do if he lost.

To which she replied, "I will then be retrieving the Shōki series from your possession." The large Gerudo frowned at the idea of her stealing from the Bandit King.

"Do not misunderstand. I do not intend to rob you. It was a legitimate business transaction after all. However, please understand that I cannot allow one unworthy to wield my grandfather's work. If you have not proven your worth by the end of the battle, then I will simply appraise them & reimburse you for the loss."

As fair as that was, logically, he did not like that she wished to take from him something that he'd commissioned personally. Especially when they were so reliable.

He accepted her challenge, looking to stamp out the assumption that he "might not be worthy" but was quickly taken aback by the mesmerizing skill with which she handled her own weapon when, the very next instant after the fight had begun, she struck out quick as lightning, drawing her Sheikatō from her sheath in a technique he'd only heard mention of before (an Iaidō), most likely to try to debilitate him quickly.

If he had not been himself, then she would've likely won in just the opening encounter, but he was Gánōndōrfè, King of the Gerudo, Vah Gela damnit! He wouldn't be taken out that easily! So, with a fierce glare, he deflected her strike before it could land.

He held her gaze for a moment, measuring her up & found something odd.

Her expression, where once she was stoic to a fault, now her face bore a look of shock upon it, before turning to intrigue.

As the fight progressed, he noticed in her a sort of energy. An aura of growing excitement.

She was incredibly strong too, as well as quick on her feet, & an obviously brilliant strategist as she had not only struck him many times, but had also caused him to faulter & stumble more than once. But he would not be bested!

Even still, Ganon knew that she was holding back on him. She was obviously an extremely skilled Sheikah Warrior, thus she must be trained in her tribe's sorcery.

So, he taunted her to try & get her to do so, but she simply gave a tiny smirk before continuing.

Anyway, she & Ganondorf continue to fight & I imagine that it'd become similar to the punch-cute from Shang Chi: Ten Rings, between Wenwu & Ying Li, but with swords.

In the end, Nemma loses, at which point, her expression turned briefly to awe, then a clarifying realization before evening back out into stoicism.

For his part, Ganondorf was exhausted, but in that really satisfying way after accomplishing something extremely difficult, but worthwhile.

She was impressive. Damn impressive in fact. He hadn't been so challenged by a fight since he was a boy. The experience was a very fulfilling one that left him wanting more.

Nemma then stood up somewhat unsteadily & bowed deeply to him in a way that indicated deep respect & the sight made the man's chest swell with pride & his blood run hot. He knew that he'd earned her respect & the knowledge of one so strong, acknowledging him as the mighty warrior that he was & had always been, was pleasing to him & stroked his ego.

The fact that she was quite the beautiful one certainly helped. He found himself regarding her once more, though this time, he recognized the scars that litters her body & the defined muscle definition & could not help but think that they somehow enhanced her appearance as they were the marks of a survivor.

The woman thanked him graciously for the opportunity to test herself against his sword & said that she was honored that one so skilled was wielding the Masamuna family's work & that the Katana of the Shōki series was his. She went on to say that it was a relief to know this & offered her services as a weaponsmith should he ever need the Masamuna's talents in the future, though she warns that she had only just begun to learn bowyery & was likely to damage the Daikyū that her grandparents made for him. And, though she was an acceptable whittler, she also wouldn't recommend requesting her skills in them to make Konbō either as she was a perfectionist & was still learning from her grandmother.

G: "So, you have followed in your clan's footsteps?"

N: "Yes, Gánōndōrfè-sama."

G: "You are… incredibly skilled with your sword. It's hard to believe that you'd expect everyone who'd ever purchased your grandparents' work to overcome such a... daunting challenge."

N: "I don't. I merely expect them to prove they are above average at using the weapons they bought. Which, I will need to confirm your mettle with the other weapons in the Shōki series. Further apologies for the inconvenience, sire. Though, I suspect that there is no need for worry, I still require confirmation to settle my own."

Ganondorf nodded, unconsciously leaning closer to her, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He warmed ever so slightly at not only having been referred to as a king by one who was not his subject, but also at the obvious, yet strangely genuine flattery, then paused in confusion, a look of scandal upon his face.

G: "You only consider yourself to be above average?"

N: "Oh, no, sire. I knew you were worthy after the moment that you blocked my first strike."

Ganondorf settled, then took a moment to process that even as his ego inflated at the fact that he'd proven himself so quickly.

G: "... Then why continue?"

N: "... I have not been truly challenged in a very long time, Gánōndōrfè-sama."

G: "Gánōn is fine. I believe that you've earned that tiny amount of familiarity. Warriors get to know each other quite well by fighting, yes?"

Nemma paused before relaxing slightly with a nod & a slight uptick at the corner of her lips.

N: "Gánōn-sama then. If that is the case, then may I humbly request that his highness refer to this one as Nemma?"

G: "... You may... Vànda Nemma..."

That slight uptick seemed to twitch, briefly turning it into the tiniest smile that the voe had ever witnessed. Yet, somehow, despite its unassuming scale, it somehow managed to propagate until it just barely lightened her sapphirine eyes.

Though, as to whether or not she recognized the title as the honestly bold flattery that it was, he wasn't sure. However, his guard very much did, judging by how her brows rose briefly before immediately returning to a neutral position. She'd better not gossip about it if she knew what was good for her.

N: "Gomen ne or... A'nï sàreq'so, Gánōn-sama. Is that how it is said?"

He could practically feel his own smirk soften ever so slightly at the edges at her slightly slow vocalization of the words, indicating a degree of unfamiliarity & care in the pronunciation of the expression of gratitude. The only significant mistake within her use of the eucharism, appearing to be the lack of vocalization of the ‘Khamza.

G: “That is correct.”

To which, she nodded slightly in polite understanding & demure appreciation.

It was odd, Ganondorf had always believed that he'd be annoyed with the politely submissive & overly meek disposition that Hylian vaien were known derisively among the Gerudo for, as he'd believed that it'd be a flagrant display of weakness. And if there was one thing that he couldn't stand, it was weak women. Yet, though the yà'vai’làra (little warrior woman) very much did display such outward traits, there was also an aura of refinement & elegance that almost seemed to cast an illusory veil over such a notion as “weakness.” Honing it, instead, into an almost imperceptible sharpness that primly & politely stated, ‘you may underestimate me if you so desire. However, in so doing, you may also find yourself paying the price for such an egregious & arrogant error at a later date.’

It honestly brought to mind the stories of Sheikah vaien pretending to be courtesans. Fluttering their fans in front of their faces for some pompous weakling of a voe who was pathetically unaware of the wickedly sharp blades hidden within the fan's delicate silk.

The very image of elegant lethality.

As Ganondorf had grown into himself, he'd come to believe that such stories were fantasticized for the purposes of Hyrulean fearmongering. However, the tiny Sheikan vai's demeanor when paired with the wonderful display of skill she just gifted him with; he wasn’t quite so sure anymore.

If he were being honest, it heated his blood in quite the pleasant way. He very much looked forward to further duels in the future. Even ones that consisted mainly of witticious verbal engagement.

N: "As I was saying, I wished to further test your majesty's martial prowess, though for my own sake. For that, I apologize. I… wished to see what you were capable of. As is apparent by the results of our duel, the answer would be 'quite a good deal more than I had anticipated.'"

She then turned & bowed.

N: "Please accept my apologies for having acted without decorum. I will excuse myself to deal with my own injuries, if that is acceptable to you, sire?"

Ganondorf was suddenly reminded of his own injuries, the aches settling in rapidly as the adrenaline faded from his system & quickly took the out that she had so graciously given him by confirming that it was acceptable.

Though, before he left, he turned back & implied that he wouldn't be averse to another bout. Which, he hoped that she'd use more of her arsenal when they met in battle once more, because he planned to use more of his as well.

She paused for a moment, her eyes briefly lighting up with anticipation before flushing slightly & nodding her acceptance.

Upon leaving her sight, Ganondorf would stumble, clutching his ribs as blood dripped from his lips, his hand shooting up to take hold of a wall & steady himself. He'd barely won that fight by just a sliver. That, more than anything, just put a Hylian Pinecone on the fire of his swiftly growing desires.

The fact that he'd beaten such a capable & skilled woman excited him beyond measure.

He grinned manically as the thought of making her his first crossed his mind.

That's when his obsession with one Masamuna Nanema first sprouted.

—

They'd duel several more times over the next couple weeks. And each fight, she'd show him something new, whether it be her knifework, dual-wielding, her use of the chained dart vambrace (Jōhyō Han Kote), her skill with a bow, her acrobatic athleticism, or her skill with Sheikah spellwork (Sheijutsu), that made him want her more with each passing day.

It also helped that she was so interesting & a surprisingly great conversationalist.

And each time, Ganondorf would win just barely & with each fight, he became more determined to court her.

He also began using her evaluations of his skills with the other Shōki weapons as excuses to show off to her & prove himself to be the best possible choice for a match. And judging by how she'd eye him up whenever she thought he wasn't looking, it was working.

He soon found himself getting… *cough* excited during their fights & after adjourning, he'd be forced to retreat to a secluded area to uh… "work off his leftover energy."

—

He just had to ease his suspicions first.

G: "You… wouldn't happen to be another of your King's messengers come here to convince the Gerudo King to come bask in Hyrule's glory via temptation, or perhaps a very attractive assassin, now would you?"

N: "Rauru is not my king & I wasn't aware that he had made such a nuisance of himself especially to one that I surmise that he wishes to become allies with. Though, I am flattered that his highness finds me so enticing. The feeling is mutual, m'lord. And, if I were sent here to assassinate you, you'd already be dead."

Ganondorf snorted derisively at the idea of being allies with that old goat, but couldn't hold back his smirk at the reciprocated compliment even though he very much doubted that that last part was true. (Poor fool has no clue.)

Though, he became suspicious of the denial of Rauru as her king as well as the informal way in which she referred to him.

He leaned in, looming over her, looking down his nose at her, trying to determine if she was deceiving him. He decided that if she was, then she was very good.

Nemma sighed & lifted her hands, beginning to untie her topknot. Her hair fell much shorter than any Sheikah he'd seen before. To her shoulders & the ends were cut straight. Something about it seemed to tickle his memory, but he couldn't quite grasp it yet.

N: "When I first left Kakariko to travel & become a monster/bounty hunter & mercenary, I used my Kodachi to cut my hair off at the nape."

Ganondorf's eyes lit up as the memory finally connected.

G: "I believe that I read once somewhere that in the Sheikah culture, it is considered a sign of cutting off one's ties with the Royal Family. You made yourself a Ronin. A Sheikah with no master."

N: "That is correct. You are quite knowledgeable. You find my culture intriguing, yes? I see the haori you wear."

Ganondorf sputtered, embarrassed that he'd been caught, but then again, he'd never seen a reason to hide it. Though, he couldn't help the sense of pride he got from being seen as knowledgeable in such things.

G: "I suppose that… in some ways, the Sheikah remind me of my own people, but in others, they are entirely alien to me. I find it interesting that two cultures that have only infrequently interacted can be both so similar & so different. You do not find the mimicry insulting?"

Nemma smiled.

N: "Not at all. Imitation isn't only the most sincere form of flattery, it's also the most sincere form of learning. Though, & pardon my audacity, but it appears that you've tied the obi incorrectly."

The Gerudo man jerked slightly at that, embarrassed once more that all that practice had gone to waste.

N: Do not fret, Sire. You have done far better than most others who were self-taught & the mistakes are minor as well as simple to correct. It is more than apparent that you paid an admirable amount of attention. I am more than willing to aid you in refining your technique if you so wish. Honestly, I too tend to see the Gerudo similarly. I admire your warrior spirits & traditions."

Ganondorf smirked with pride at her recognition of his & his people's efforts. As well as of the fact that he'd done his research.

G: "Likewise &... It would be ungentlemanly of a voe to turn down such a generous offer from a vai as lovely as yourself."

N: "You flatter this unworthy one, m'lord."

She hid her tiny smile & the slight (genuine) flushing of her cheeks behind her delicately closed fist, not even noticing how she unconsciously fluttered her lashes at him in a coquettish manner. If she had a Himitsu Tessen (秘密鉄扇, war fan disguised as a Sensu or courtier's handfan), she'd be fluttering it daintily in front of her lower face as she'd been taught to when flirting amongst the elites on a mission. (Though, she still wasn't confident in her Tessenjutsu technique.)

N: "I also quite admire how you've managed to integrate Gerudo textiles, colors, & patterning into the haori's design at the same time. I may have to inquire as to who made it. I may wish to request their services. It's strange, but… the two styles seem to meld together oddly well?"

Her praise & it's obvious, seemingly hopeful, insinuation to the parallels in their own possible future relationship made a fluttering, hesitant feeling of excitement bloom inside Ganondorf's chest.

G: "They… do seem to be quite… compatible, yes…"

Sheikah culture had always fascinated him. Coming from a warrior culture himself, he especially admired their traditions as fighters. Though, the fact that most were so loyal to that cowardly, peace-loving Rauru & his wife tended to sour that impression.

If not for that, he'd actually be quite the fan.

—

G: "I was wondering. That opening strike you performed in our first duel? How do you do that?"

Nemma giggled, the sound like tinkling bells to his ears.

N: "That was an Iaidō. It is a very difficult thing to learn. Why? Would you like me to teach you?"

Almost too quickly & with too much enthusiasm, Ganondorf said yes before clearing his throat & folding one of his arms over his chest, the other going up to cough into his closed fist as he looked away to hide the flush of embarrassment on his face.

G: "That… would be appreciated."

Nemma let the corners of her lips tug upwards only slightly.

N: "I'd be happy to."

---

Finally, after he'd proven himself capable at wielding all of the Shōki series, Ganondorf went to ask, but they ended up speaking at the same time, pausing when she offered to let him speak first.

At which point, he asked for her permission to court her, to which her eyes lit up in surprise before softening.

N: "It was my intention to ask you the same."

Ganondorf laughed, "Then, would I be correct in assuming that that is a, yes?"

N: "You would be correct."

And so, they began to court after tiptoeing around each other for weeks.

As time passed & they got more comfortable around each other, Nemma began to slowly become less formal with him.

---

The last of their deciding duels would end up being climactic. Downright epic. It'd be the one where she'd stop all pretenses & take out the Namikaze no Odori & really show him what she was made of. Not just physically, but as a battle mage as well.

Either Ganondorf had still managed to win or it ended in a tie, but either way they'd both need medical attention.

(Though, all throughout the fight, they had been making bedroom eyes at each other.)

That'd be when they both decided simultaneously, "this is who I'm going to marry."

Admittedly, Nemma would be somewhat frustrated at the fact that she hadn't won a single fight, but in the end, it would only encourage her to train harder.

Neither would posit the idea of marriage until at least another month or two of courting, but by then they'd both be completely committed.

Side-Note: While Ganondorf doesn't by any means gush, he does hum when he's in love & thinking about her. He also has a tendency to praise her, whether when speaking of her or to her.

Once he's ready, he'll take out a box, take her hands in his, flush slightly & avoid her eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. Before shoring up his courage, placing the decorative box in her hands, opening it to present a crudely-made platinum ring with a moonstone set inside it, & looking her in the eye to declare, "Kàvt shïchïso yūg nï’jï." Which means, "Bind your soul with mine." It is a Gerudo proposal. Of course, by then, Nemma will only know the literal translation of the request (demand, really), but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out his intent. As a result, she will be somewhat mischievous by asking him if it is similar to how the Sheikah propose. Ganondorf would deflate somewhat, thinking that she was deflecting the conversation to avoid hurting him & would reply that he did not know & would ask how the Sheikah did it.

To which, Nemma would retrieve a little box from her bag & place it in his hand. At which point, he'd look at her in confusion, who would return the expression with one that said "open it."

Upon doing so, he'd lift the tiny lid to reveal the petals of Silent Princesses & Sweetheart Orchids. On top of which would be a strip of paper with the kanji, "結��して下さい." (Kekkon shite kudasai.) Which is the formal way to ask someone to marry them. She'd tell him as such & then wait for it to register in his head what it meant that not only did she have that prepared, but that she'd given it to him. (A Sweetheart Orchid is a beautiful white flower with a pink, heart-shaped outline said to be favored by Karina, the Goddess of Love & Passion. They can be found in Faron & sparsely in Necluda, but they grow well on Tuft Mountain & Ebon Mountain.)

When he does (it didn't take long, barely even a second), Ganondorf's eyes will light up with realization & then soften with relief & joy before chuckling fondly & commenting that they were quite the pair. To which, she'd agree, taking the ring he'd gifted her & sliding it onto her ring finger to admire it. Though unrefined, it was obviously made with a lot of love & careful attention. The Gerudo King lit up at the sight of her officially accepting his proposal, then bent his head down & captured her lips in a kiss, which Nemma would return eagerly.

After proposing, they decide to wed at the beginning of next spring in celebration of Vah Kàvtrïna (or Kariaina-no-Mikoto to the Sheikah). Which was one of the few deities that both pantheons had in common.

---

Anyway, I just wanted to clear something up real quick. In a one-on-one fight, Ganondorf absolutely wins. No question.

However, the fact that not only a woman, but one so much smaller than him (damn near half his effing size, even) is able to consistently get so close to winning each time?

That's actually more of a credit to her own skills as a fighter than to his. Because by all accounts, he should effing body her, but he doesn't.

If she were born a Gerudo Vai & went through the same training that she had in her current life, she'd beat his ass! Because I tend to come at this from a perspective of Gerudo Vaien being, on average, about as strong as male Hylians, Sheikah, & humans. And that's largely due to their greater height & body weight than their non-Gerudo counterparts. A well-trained 7-foot dude could likely take a well-trained Gerudo Vaien of average height.

Back to Nemma though, if Ganondorf were one of her targets, she'd likely have taken the fact that he was male into account, as well his height & weight class & would instead have assassinated him rather than taking her chances in a one-on-one fight.

In such a situation, he'd be dead. Like, holy shit, he wouldn't stand a damn chance.

He might survive the first 2 attempts with steadily increasing paranoia, but the third would see him in a body bag.

Basically, he wins… provided that he can see her coming.

Which... now that I think of it... That could be a very interesting scene for him, just as a way to humble him a bit while still allowing him to maintain his dignity, as the fact that she's only able to consistently manage such a feat when she doesn't take him on one-on-one, would likely sooth whatever bruises his ego might take.

As such, it's the sort of thing he'd be able to take very early in their relationship.

As a result, he'd be able to look passed the initial sting of defeat & his ego to her as a person & the sheer amount of skill & dedication to her training it would take to become so strong as to put him on his ass even once, let alone consistently even if it is under a specific caveat.

And he'd be insanely turned on by it.

Like this:

Ganondorf & Nemma sat chatting idly one evening after dinner in his palace (it was really more of a rock pueblo, honestly) when he suddenly went silent, his eyes widening slightly before they began to dart around the room.

N: "Judging by the panic in your eyes, I suspect the poison has begun taking effect by now."

His eyes snapped to his fiancée in shock & betrayal. Wrinkles had formed on his forehead & his jaw had gone slack inside his mouth. She could even see the little muscle underneath his left eye twitch slightly with anger.

In response, she reached across the table to caress his cheek fondly.

N: "Now, now. I do not plan on killing you, Koibito. I simply got tired of your boasting. Holding the fact that you won all our fights over my head. The poison will wear off in about an hour & you'll be none the worse for wear."

His eyes softened with relief. The wrinkles evening out, then scrunching slightly with curiosity.

The beautiful little Sheikah woman let out a quiet, bell-like giggle. She got up & began to walk around the table. The Gerudo's eyes following her as she went.

N: "My dear, handsome Gerudo King, you may overcome me in a direct confrontation..."

Upon arriving at his side, she turned him towards her & leaned over him, her eyes hooded as she examined his face.

N: "But... if you were a target... you would be long dead by now..."

She saw his apple bob minutely in his throat & his pupils widen ever so slightly. A small smile formed on her lips as she took a seat in his lap sidesaddle, causing his thigh to twitch at the contact, & began to stroke his chin.

N: "Just know that if I wished you dead... you would be."

With that, she kissed him tenderly. Then, she pulled back & fluttered her eyes up at him as her voice floated across her lips, light as a feather.

N: "And you wouldn't even know what caused it. It wouldn't have to be poison. I could shoot you with a bow from a distance away, & I might even use one of your own soldier's bows, instilling thoughts of treason. I haven't missed a shot in years. Or I could sneak up behind you while your back was turned &..."

She fisted the back of his haori & rubbed her nose against his, his lip quivering slightly.

N: "Plunge my Sheikatō into your back... Or I could slip quietly into your room in the middle of the night while you sleep &..."

Her finger traced over his heart & she smiled innocently at how he shuttered, chest heaving beneath her fingertip.

N: "Stab you through the heart... I could even..."

*Riske Content Warning*

Nemma then adjusted herself so that she was straddling Ganondorf. She rocked against his growing bulge, causing his throat to work & his thighs to twitch as he tried to gasp even though he could not open his mouth, his breath being sucked in sharply through his nostrils. The Shadow Warrior then whispered the rest of the sentence against his lips.

N: "Smother you with my womanhood & simply not let you up for air, though I doubt you would resist too terribly hard against that particular end."

Fuck, Ganondorf wasn't even sure if she was wrong on that. The large man's eyes were heavily lidded, pupils blown wide with lust, & Nemma could feel how he panted against her bosom. How he strained against his sirwàl.

N: "There are quite a lot of ways that I could go about it... but you need not worry… I wouldn't kill you unless you did something remarkably idiotic & unforgivable. Which, I think you're much too intelligent for."

She then pulled out a small glass vial from her pocket, unplugged it & took a swig.

The little Sheikah woman then leaned forward & kissed him, her mouth prying his lips open to deposit the fluid inside, his eyes closing as she did so, her tongue caressing his own as she tilted his head up, & her fingers massaging his throat so that he swallowed. Even after he'd done so, she lingered there for a few seconds longer.

*End of Riske Content*

The man let out a little whimper as she backed away.

N: "That was the antidote. It'll start working in a minute or so."

Then, she pecked him on the lips once more, got up, smirking minutely at the rosy tint to his cheeks & hazy, lustful look in his eyes as they followed her movements before sauntering off. Fingers running up his chest & over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.

Ganondorf was left alone to process how effing hot that was & unable to relieve his excitement until the antidote kicked in.

That was definitely a new kink.

---

Anyway, I see Ganondorf as the sort who'd try to manipulate Nemma into loving him rather than kidnap her or force himself on her. At least, not unless she outright rejected him repeatedly in the beginning, which obviously doesn't happen. But in the process, he'll inevitably become obsessed with her.

However, in the process of making Nemma fall in love with him, his obsession, while persisting, begins to be outweighed by a genuine care, affection, & later even love for her. At which point, he would no longer be able to bring himself to do such things to her because, then, her happiness would be legitimately important to him.

He'd still be obsessed with her, as well as possessive & protective of her, but by that point, it'd be fueled by his love for her.

Even more than that, I want him to eventually come to value & respect her in a way that I'm not sure we ever see him do.

I want her to be important to him on several levels.

I also don't see Ganondorf being able to corrupt her unless something big & tragic happened to her personally. Like, her entire race was killed off & she was the only one left levels of big & tragic. It'd be an intense desire for revenge that would do it, but if it ever did happen, he might not like the monstrous stranger that would become of her because of it.

The thing is, she has a deep sense of honor & nerves forged from steel. So, without that tipping point, any of Ganondorf's attempts to corrupt her would be met with her softening him with her genuineness &, at first hesitant, affection without even trying to.

This could either end up being a boon or could cause a problem between them because never once will Nemma try to change Ganondorf, but he could very well try to change her. And depending on the story & if she ever realized this, she might just leave him for it.

I mean, she wouldn't ever go against him unless he did something genuinely stupid like disrespect her family's legacy or kill her grandmother or harm children, but she definitely wouldn't help him either after realizing that he tried to change her without her permission. The fact that he'd try something like that would result in an uncharacteristic insecurity & the first seeds of self-doubt.

Nemma is an innately self-assured individual, toughened by her own, hard-earned, sense of self-worth. So, it would take someone extremely important to her doing something like this to damage that.

As a result, this might force Ganondorf to learn to apologize & swear on his life that he'll never do that again. (I'm thinking about that one arc in Tale of Two Rulers.)

—

In some ways, Nemma very much confuses Ganondorf. One of her level of skill & ability should've been able to take over Hyrule quite easily. Especially with her skills in subterfuge.

---

During the time that Nemma was in the desert to learn the Dawallaham technique, her & Ganondorf would begin to court & figure their way around each other.

At some point, the 6th Tear Memory from TotK would take place, then the 7th, both with Nemma there as well, as Ganondorf introduces her as his fiancée. The pair even being seen wandering around together, seemingly on dates. Then, afterwards, they would return to the desert, with the large man eager to continue courting his future queen. (Courting, specifically, as they both went into this with the intention of seeing if the other is a good match for marriage. Dating is much more casual.)

I think that Ganondorf would wait to strike at Sonia when it was least expected. Which would require time for the Hyrulean Royal Family to let their guards down. Which could take anywhere from a few months to a year.

Either way, by the time he kills Sonia, Ganondorf & Nemma are already married.

However, they actually went to Hyrule a week early so that Nemma could show Ganondorf her home village.

Almost as soon as she arrived, they were overrun by little Sheikah children all excited to see their old cooking teacher back.

It warmed the giant man's heart to see how readily children gravitated to his fiancée & how easily she handled them.

She introduced him as her fiancé. The man she was going to marry & it made his chest swell with pride.

He did find it unusual how he only really got a couple of curious glances from the residents.

Not to say there wasn't at least one racist asshole, but the real surprise was how quickly those in the village came to his defense despite only really knowing of him as Nemma's rather large intended.

Though, the looks he got from the warriors were far & above more suspicious. Not necessarily judgmental so much as cautious & knowing in a way that was different from the ordinary civilians.

Despite this, he actually got several hostile glances & he'd believed that they were judging him based upon his race. Imagine his surprise when he realized that it was only other men who did so. Ganondorf was actually somewhat embarrassed that he hadn't realized sooner that their hostility was fueled by jealousy rather than racism. Which actually caused quite the pep in his step.

Anyway, Nemma took him to her childhood home at the Rikoka Hills just north of Kakariko then introduced him to her grandmother, Ayamay, who was… spunky for an old gal. He was then taken to the graveyard to meet her grandfather, Takka, where he made an offering. Though he had met the man twice long ago, once when the elder man was interviewing him for the types of weapons he wanted & again when the gentleman delivered the Shōki series to him. But addressing him now somehow felt... different.

It was odd. Ganondorf remembered the old man requesting that he spar with some of his subjects so that he could get a good read of his capabilities & had then asked him to share a drink with him afterwards. The Gerudo had been confused, but the elderly blacksmith had simply said that he wanted to better understand what he was all about.

It'd been the first & only time that Gdorf had had a male drinking buddy. Of course, he didn't loosen up until several drinks in, but by that point, Takka had begun chatting about his family. Ganondorf remembered quite distinctly the man expressing a type of warm pride in his granddaughter. (The King had been internally nervous, but actually found it... nice...)

Ganondorf wondered... had the elder known that the Gerudo king would be marrying that same granddaughter, would he have approved?

Anyway, his stay in the village was… strangely pleasant. Though it was, indeed, quite slow there & he could see where Nemma's concerns lay.

Many of the younger generation were uninterested in the ways of the Shadow Warrior & instead showed the trademarks of inventors & researchers. Which, while admirable professions, it was also honestly quite depressing. He'd be greatly disappointed if this trend continued. (He couldn't even imagine the dread that would fill him if he noticed the same trends in the Gerudo.)

However, it was also fun to be able to practice his Sheikah with someone other than Nemma despite how wonderful of a conversationalist she was.

As for their stay at the capitol, Ganondorf was high-key racist against the Zonai & even Hylians to a degree & this fact becomes very evident to Nemma during their week visiting Rauru's palace upon the Great Plateau.

For all Ganondorf's belly-aching about entitled Zonai & Hylians, Nemma had only experienced such things around the upper class. Particularly, some of her least favored clients. In truth, much like with any other race, the common Hyrulean was fairly humble & easy to get along with. Though, again, that was fairly standard. Most of the higher-ups among the Gerudo were also quite entitled, just in a different way to those in Hyrule. Being more brash & blunt about it.

Though, in many ways, Nemma admitted that she honestly preferred the Gerudo elite's blunter & more honest, if rude, entitlement over the more snake-like, conniving egos of Hyrule's own wealthy elite. At least entitled Gerudo were straightforward when they thought themselves better than you &, the warrior race being what it was, if one of them said something that the Sheikah couldn't tolerate, it was at least considered perfectly acceptable to challenge whatever Vai insulted her to a duel. This is due to their Might Makes Right philosophy.

Such was not the case within Hyrulean society. Especially amongst the upper crust.

Anyway, surrounding the palace was a very small town where several Hyruleans lived.

(Insert some things they do during their stay at the capitol.)

---

I think their first real argument would happen while visiting Hyrule for Ganondorf's ruse. He'd have gone with her upon her hearing of a nearby Silver Lynel that was attacking a tiny hamlet. (While the Shrines of Light took care of most of the monsters in Hyrule, they couldn't seal away the more powerful ones. Nor the ones that weren't made of pure evil magic.) While not an innately altruistic individual, Nemma values children as a society's greatest treasure. To be protected at all costs. So, upon hearing how one of the Lynel's victims was a little girl, she'd dropped everything & ended the beast.

She & Ganondorf had returned to Castle Town where she was selling off the guts & half the hooves when Ganondorf made a quip about her serving the goat now & she'd rounded on him furious.

This would be witnessed by the Hylian Guards, who'd later inform Rauru, which would lead to him making some incorrect assumptions about Nemma's loyalties.

---

Anyway, the argument eventually loses steam once Nemma admits that the reason why she was so quick to take out that Lynel, was because she'd heard that it'd trampled a little girl to death.

To which, Ganondorf goes quiet. That, yeah, that made sense.

Lynels always were vicious...

Awkwardly, he draws close to her & places his massive hands upon her shoulders. Still not quite used to positive physical interaction.

"I..."

His mouth snapped closed. Why couldn't he do it?! It was just 2 simple words! Yes, apologizing was beneath him, but Nemma wasn't as she'd proven to him repeatedly! So, why couldn't he give her the slightest comfort??

He quickly buried the tiny voice in the back of his mind that said, ‘because no one has ever comforted me before; I don't know how…’ as it set his stomach churning.

Suddenly, the yàyai'làra (little warrior woman) places a tiny, callused hand upon his own.

"It's alright. I understand. You don't have to say it."

Ganondorf was suddenly flooded with a strange sensation of relief & a warm feeling that he still couldn't quite identify, but he was quickly beginning to associate it with the small woman. The sensation bloomed in his chest.

But that feeling was also followed by shame at not being able to say such simple words.

---

However, Nemma will also begin to expand Ganondorf's understanding of reality by unobtrusively questioning his beliefs.

N: "I suppose that I simply don't understand your fixation with Hyrule."

G: "Don't tell me that you actually agree with that old goat that peace is best."

Nemma would hum doubtfully before replying.

N: "Honestly? I don't think either of you are truly correct in whole."

This caught Ganondorf's attention.

N: "I believe that you are correct that the strong are forged in fire. After all, you can only forge a sword by pounding it into shape. However, I don't necessarily believe Rauru to be wrong for wishing for peace as well."

N: "Think of it this way, you as a warrior like I, know how a body becomes strong, yes? You train, but you don't train at all hours. To become strong, we cannot be expected to be forever in conflict. If we were, we would quickly lose stamina & die. Our muscles can only build upon themselves if we allow them the time to repair themselves. The same is true for everything. To become all that we can be, we need balance. Does that make sense?"

The Gerudo King hummed curiously as he took in her words. No one had ever explained it like that to him before.

When spoken like that, it made sense.

N: "Everything has its place, even chaos. I believe that by choosing just one, you both blind yourselves & begin to disregard the uses of the other. There is merit in chaos, but there is also merit in order. Life is in a constant state of flux & change. To behave otherwise would be to invite stagnation & entropy. So, if one were to always be at war, would that not also invite its own form of stagnation?"

G: "So, you see peace as a moment's rest between conflicts. A calm in the storm if you will."

N: "Something like that, I suppose. In a way, I think that war strengthens the body, peace hones the mind, & both refine the spirit, simply in different ways. You need both to be truly strong in more ways than just physically."

Her logic was sound… but it went against everything he'd ever been taught. A part of Ganondorf was resistant to the idea, but… he also couldn't fault her thinking.

He'd… have to think about this…

Normally, Ganondorf wouldn't even entertain the idea that peace had a place in his vision of a new kingdom. He is only really considering her words because, by now, he knows her to not be the sort who'd deceive him.

It seemed to him that she'd thought about this subject before.

An unfortunately familiar sense of anxiety settled into his stomach.

G: “But… How does one find purpose during such a calm when all one has ever known is conflict & struggle? What are warriors who have no war left to fight in?”

That was when he felt a hand gently placed upon his own. Starting for a moment, he looked down to see the magnificent, confusing woman's paradoxically strong, yet delicate hand upon his own. And he couldn't help how his own hand turned over to grasp hers in a loose grip almost automatically.

N: “Does the moon stop being the moon when it is daytime?”

G: *a small huff of a laugh* “I suppose not…”

In a way it was comforting.

N: “Correct. You & I, we will likely always have that warrior spirit within us, but it is not a cage that traps us nor chains that bind us. It is simply one aspect of our overall selves. And when that aspect is no longer of use for the moment, we become free to indulge in other aspects of ourselves & discover new ones.”

N: "Of course, that doesn't mean that we leave behind the other, for it is as much a part of us as anything else we unearth about ourselves."

Ganondorf was silent. Unusually contemplative. He'd have to think about this.

---

Anyway, during the course of their courting & engagement, I think that a small group of Gerudo will become jealous & try to find ways to get rid of Nemma, but it will always end in defeat. Some of which likely having been previous flings of Ganondorf's, or possibly even some of his Va'màziahen (concubines), which he'd let go not long after they became engaged.

But, even when these Vaien resort to poisoning her food, it'll fail as Nemma is a Dokuso Shokushei or Toxin Mistress. Which are Shadowfolk trained in the art of Dokusojutsu, including the creation, identification, & various uses (whether it be to kill or create medicines) of deadly toxins.

And one of the requirements for becoming eligible for taking the test to become a Toxin Master or Mistress is to complete toxin immunization training. This involves slowly ingesting small amount of toxic substances over time until you build up a resistance & immunity to them.

This is the tattoo that you get when you become recognized as such:

Not only is Nemma a certified & recognized Toxin Mistress able to quickly identify the signs of poison, but she has created a type of nail polish that reacts to the presence of toxic material by chemical reaction. As a result, it's become habit to swirl the tip of her finger in her drink & check her nails.

Even if she accidentally forgot to do this, in order to kill her, it'd have to be horrifically deadly & insanely fast-acting to actually kill her. We're talking cyanide levels of toxic & fast-acting here.

Otherwise, she'll be able to identify it almost instantly by a combination of smell, taste, & symptom, then manage to create an effective antidote very quickly.

Even then, if she identifies the poison as being something she's completely immune to, she'll likely just ingest it anyway as a sort of message that she isn't going anywhere before subtly being on the lookout for who exactly did it to begin with.

And when these Vaien outright challenge her, she very soundly beats them all. Which, honestly, Ganondorf finds effing hot. He quite enjoys watching Nemma absolutely destroying challengers to establish dominance, as well as her right to be at his side permanently.

And, as per the yandere trope, any Vaien (women, as in plural) who manages to survive through Nemma beating them, Gdorf later kills himself.

He can't have some surmúta (slut or harlot; a gender-neutral term) who wants his future wife dead running around, now can he?

(Just for reference, I see concubines & one-night stands being considered fine in Gerudo culture so long as you aren't married. The reason being that I see the Gerudo, just as a race, as being very exclusive with their romantic relationships & decently exclusive with who has access to their bodies. To them, infidelity is considered a taboo, right up there with pedophilia or beastiality or most other gross things that only mentally disturbed people do & is punishable by death. And open relationships are just an absolute no. Poly relationships do exist, at least technically to an extent. But only really in the form of throuples & even just having 2 partners is considered pushing it & such relationships are looked upon unfavorably. And, while there have been cases of quadrouples, it is extremely rare & very, very, very frowned upon. Not to mention the subject of ridicule. As such, the Gerudo's name for such relationships reflects their beliefs of how many people are acceptable as they are referred to as Zay’tzèxad’úl Màtu or “Two-Handed Love.” Meanwhile, ones with more people involved than that are referred to as Nïsavashorqīs Màtu meaning “Self-Destructive Love” or Harnī Múta meaning “Mad Lust” or Vashorqīs Múta meaning “Destructive Lust” or Dōrkàvt Múta meaning “Bondless Lust.”)

(And in Gerudo custom, when you begin courting, you are expected to get rid of your concubines/concubini. Period. End of story. If they aren't gone by the night before the wedding, you can expect some serious side-eye & many an unsavory rumor. Whenever the line of succession for the position of Gerudo monarch or chieftain was changed, a lot of the time, it was due to a revolt from the people after it came out that either the chief or one of the monarchs was unfaithful to their spouse.)

(Now, divorcing wasn't common & not something the Gerudo considered a good thing, but it was far & above preferred compared to infidelity. And courting & getting married again after a divorce or the death of a spouse, is considered totally fine & even natural... so long as it isn't too soon after...)

—

At some point, Nemma learns that the Gerudo's Spirit Temple seems to possess Mind's Eye adjacent iconography as well, & she later learns that Priestesses of the Gerudo Moon Goddess, Vah Amàhrta, are trained in the way of the Mind's Eye as well.

Knowing that there is someone who actively knows what they're doing in regard to such things, Nemma pleads to be taught. Which comes as to a surprise to both the Priestesses & Ganondorf.

It's only after she explains her fear that her people are losing their identity & that the Mind's Eye is part of said identity that they think on it before finally accepting.

Though, the Gerudo refer to the technique as the Euyinen al'Màh'è (Eyes of the Moon).

—

Later, I want a Keaton, whom I'll name Satoshi, to appear before Nemma & better teach her how to open her Mind's Eye due to how promising of a Sheikah warrior she is. As that is part of my hc about the Mind's Eye, the Keaton being sort of like guardian spirits to the Sheikah.

The reason it's necessary is that there are just some slight differences in how the Mind's Eye & Eyes of the Moon work.

For one, the Sheikah method revolves more around meditation, including philosophies such as IRL Kiko (basically the Japanese name for Qigong), Tummo, Aiki-Jūjutsu, yoga, activating the Chakrahs, & just overall spiritual growth & maturation. Which, Nemma won't initially vibe with, just due to how rational & practical she is, but she is determined to do this regardless.

She will end up finding merit in things like yoga, Tummo, & Aiki-Jūjutsu pretty quickly though as yoga promotes flexibility, Tummo teaches one how to control your own body temperature through meditation & controlled breathing, while Aiki-Jūjutsu blends together the styles of the passive, more spiritual, harmony, & healing focused Aikidō & the more harder hitting & aggressive style of Jūjutsu. In other words, promoting a balance. It also includes the art of Aikidō Atemi, which is pressure point striking & is something that Nemma would be very interested in as well as the Jūjutsu portion of the training.

Though, she'll initially have mixed feelings about learning Aiki-Jūjutsu as she'd never really learned any hand-to-hand, being more weapon-oriented. At the same time, she'll definitely see the merit in learning it. In all honestly, she's somewhat nervous about not doing well due to her inexperience.

That isn't to say that she will slack off or disregard the other parts of her training, but she will definitely show more vim & vigor when training in these specific parts until she's reached a point where she begins to truly appreciate the more spiritual aspects of the training.

The reason being the discovery that the reason why the Sheikah had begun to lose their warrior identity recently is, in part, due to losing their spiritual center as the Sheikah, just as a people, were created with a deep connection to the spiritual world. So, by losing that core aspect of themselves, they essentially lose themselves as well.

Even the ascetic training that Moz Koshia is currently going through has lost quite a lot of the old traditions by being more heavily influenced by Zonai/Hylian theology. The realization of this makes Nemma look at the ascetic training differently & begin to apply more seriousness to it.

For a while, she becomes bitter towards the Royal Family until Satoshi informs her that this spiritual degradation in the Sheikah's culture wasn't something that was done intentionally. It's just the way of things that cultures become influenced by other cultures & results in consequences. Some of said consequences can be very good, while others can be very bad. His point in informing her wasn't to discourage intercultural relations or hatred of the Hyrule Royal Family or Zonai, but rather awareness & an understanding of why some traditions come to pass.

In fact, not all traditions are good & some can even become very detrimental to the society & its people, thus needing to be abandoned for the sake of the overall culture. It was, in fact, the consequences of one of the Gerudo's own ancient philosophies that originally resulted in their female-only curse. Which very much interested Nemma, but Satoshi seemed to think that he said too much on the subject & promptly clammed up on her.

Anyway, she wouldn't necessarily need to reach enlightenment to activate the Mind's Eye but would at least need to open the Ajna Chakrah to master it. Which is good because, just as an individual, she wouldn't be able to let go of all earthly attachments anyway.

(For a more in-depth idea of the Mind's Eye, go here.)

There's also her needing to know how to teach these things to others in order to help keep her culture's traditions strong.

As Satoshi trains her, she'll be introduced to one of the Sheikah's ancient tasks: putting to rest the souls of the dead. This can be done either by playing the Song of Healing, which he'll teach her, or by "killing" them with a weapon forged with ancient Sheikah weaponsmithing techniques & inscribed with ancient Sheikah Fūinjutsu runes used specifically for this, known here as Sheishin Fūinjutsu (Spirit Sealing Method), taught to the Sheikah by Sheikaku, the old, forgotten god of death, spirits, & the moon who created the Sheikah several thousands of years ago. (Which you can see examples of Sheishin Fūinjutsu featured on both the Depths Set & the Dark Clumps in TotK.)

Afterwards, it was necessary to go through an ancient & sacred ritual on either the night of the Full Moon, New Moon, or either the Waning Crescent Moon or the Waxing Gibbous Moon &, if your work pleased Sheikaku & your prayers were honest, then he would bless your weapon.

In fact, he said that it was best to make the weapons in an actual forge considering how they are such holy places. Which caught Nemma's attention. She'd always known that there was something special about her home, but she'd never heard that it was holy. This led into a discussion of the spiritual aspect of swords in the ancient Sheikah culture.

But that's for later. Anyway, when a Poe Soul (the non-combative Poes you find in the Depths of TotK) gains too many potent negative emotions, it will rise from the Depths & manifest a body of pseudo-flesh made out of pure evil magic fueled by On'nen (怨念, a mix of hatred, grudement, malice, vengeance, & resentfulness that can consume spirits & make them furious or malicious & causes evil spirits to be even more so). That's what the Dark Clumps are. Solidified On'nenmahō (怨念魔法, on'nen magic) or On'nenmaryoku (怨念魔力, on'nen magic power), which is a part of a very specific, very evil branch of Yōki, called Jaki (邪気, evil energy).

And those strips of paper on them are sealing tags using Sheishin Fūinjutsu to keep the flesh from reconstituting into another problem.

These Enemy Poes can only be beaten by Light/Twilight or Spirit magic with a weapon blessed by a death a/o spirit god, which Sheikaku was both.

These same methods are also effective against other dead or undead enemies such as Stals, Redeads, & Gibdos, as well as Akuma (evil entities that are fueled by On'nen; basically, the non-animal monsters of the games such as Darknuts, Iron Knuckles, Lynels, ect).

Either way, Nemma will be excited to learn damn near all these things as they are right up her alley.

She'd reforge her Sheikatō for the purposes of having them blessed.

And, upon going to sleep after seemingly failing the ritual, Nemma woke to find herself on a grassy cliff overlooking a vast forest, looking up at the full moon.

Beside her sat a… being. He was very large (like, as large if not larger than Ganondorf), with silvery-white hair like her own, blue & red facial markings & four glowing silvery irises.

He gazed up at the moon before gazing down at the duel swords in his hand.

It was the Sheikatō that she'd forged & prayed for Sheikaku to bless.

He then turned to her & began to speak to her in SHS.

S: "It has been a long time since anyone has asked for me to bless a weapon. You did well."

S: "You… remind me of my sister, Karina… You even fight using similar weapons... I… miss her…" His expression seemed to become distant for a moment as he seemed to see something in her than she didn't know. Then his face shift to one of loss before returning to stoic.

S: "Use these Sheikatō to bring peace to those who are unable to obtain it on their own."

S: "We will meet again. However, you will not know that it is I & I will not know that it is you. Be safe &... I wish you good fortune with your other half…"

She then woke to find the Sheishin Fūinjutsu on her Sheikatō glowing faintly in rhythm like slow, dual heartbeats.

—

Nemma sometimes just marvels at how ridiculously tall all the Gerudo are, especially Ganondorf. She only reaches his elbows when standing with his arms at his sides. And it wasn't just his height that stunned her, but also his overall girth as a result of obviously intense training. He could probably crush a Hydromelon between his thighs!

Ganondorf, of course, noticed her staring fairly quickly, but didn't initially know why. It isn't until later when he overhears a conversation that Nemma had with her new yaidja (guardswoman) friend, Tïsàla, that he learns why.

He already has a bit of a size kink, so hearing the target of his attentions commenting, in awe, of his height gave him a bit of an ego boost. Then to hear her take notice of how much hard work he put into his body, left him positively preening.

He nearly laughed at the Hydromelon comment & wondered what she'd do if she actually saw him do that.

Either way, after hearing all that, he begins to make a bit of a habit of showing himself off around her whenever he notices her staring. Not to mention tending to make the effort to emphasize his full height & intentionally loom over her. The expressions she makes never fail to stroke his masculine pride & make him chuckle.

---

As mentioned above, I also see Ganondorf having a major size-difference kink. Gerudo Vaien are already taller than Human, Hylian, & Sheikah men, who themselves are taller than their feminine counterparts, so Gerudo Voen are even more so. As a result, Nemma would appear to be just so incredibly tiny & delicate to him. Almost like a porcelain doll that he could break without noticing if he wasn't careful.

Then, to learn that she was combat proficient enough that she nearly beat him in a one-on-one fight? It'd create the most satisfying juxtaposition in his mind. Small, but mighty. ♡

And he'd be the first she'd ever chosen to give herself to?

Whoo! It would thrill him to no end!

However, I don't think that it'd start out as being a very healthy relationship. A main focus of the story is the 2 navigating around each other & learning to be a legitimately functional & healthy couple. Gdorf specifically learning how to let her in & be someone other than the King of Evil with her. Which is difficult for him to do as that's who his adï'vàman (adoptive mothers) raised him to be.

Which... I see them having issues with each other... Kōme & Kotake because I get the impression that they're just effing racist as shit as well as not liking the fact that this girl seems to be softening their boy up & Nemma because they seem to have beef with her & she's also getting distinct trauma bonding vibes from their & Ganondorf's relationship that really rubs her the wrong way.

Eventually, Nemma becomes one of the only people that Ganondorf is gentle & kind with. She becomes his soft spot & his safe space all-in-one.

Kōme & Kotake both seem to realize this & become determined to be rid of her. Which will eventually end up pitting them against Ganondorf.

---

Nemma has very spartan tastes, is independent, self-sufficient, & practical, as well as not generally being very materialistic or greedy, so she's not overly enthusiastic about jewelry unless they happen to double as something functional & isn't gaudy. (If she has to wear jewelry, she prefers the pretty, yet classy sorts.) Like rings that work well as knuckledusters or an earring with a Gossip Stone in it to communicate with someone long-distance or jewelry that uses crystomagy (gem enhancement infusion magic such as the Gerudo's Zennō style) to help with environmental obstacles such as heat or cold or heeled shoes that have blades for the heels or Kôgai that double as daggers like the ones she generally wears.

Ganondorf seems the type to try & shower her in expensive, extravagant, yet ultimately frivolous, gifts such as fine silks & ostentatious, glittering jewelry, which she'd find pretty, but rather worthless. She wouldn't really be impressed.

While she does enjoy pretty things, fashionable clothes, nice patterns, dressing up, & looking nice, she far & above prefers utility, practicality, & functionality over something that just looks nice. Clothes that are both fashionable & functional, even more so. So, to really impress her, Ganondorf would have to get her gifts that strike a balance between expensive, high-quality, & beautiful, as well as useful & battle ready to really get her attention. Not because she demands expensive things, but because Gdorf refuses to give her anything less than that. (He's got a lot of pride like that & can come across as sort of a snob as a result.)

As such, this might cause a tiny bit of friction between them initially. Nothing too serious, but it'll be there. It's just one of those things that they'll have to work around.

Anyway, once he's learned her preferences, Ganondorf will still give her extravagant gifts in public. Things like decorative vases, bejeweled tiaras, those sorts of things. However, those are more for the sake of keeping up appearances & Nemma knows this, so she doesn't mind. Doesn't necessarily understand, but she doesn't mind. He has a reputation to uphold after all.

However, the really important gifts that actually mean something, he tends to give to her in private. This is due to Nemma tending to do this as she doesn't really see a need for so much fanfare. Nothing she gives Ganondorf is for purely presentation, but rather it is always something she genuinely believes that he'll enjoy or, at least, will mean something significant to him. Which was a strange concept to him as most of the gifts he's ever been given were frivolous or superficial in nature.

Such gifts he'll give in private will include cookbooks, calligraphy supplies (which, Sheikah & Gerudo use similar tools to write, that being brushes instead of quills like many in Hyrule tend to), new weapons, maps, jewelry with gemstones that have been infused with magic to either act as a magical focus or to help overcome an environmental hazard, or better tools. Hell, even high-quality forging materials such as uncut gemstones & Dawasaaq iron from the Highlands Mine tends to get a giggle of excitement from her. Just things that she'd use or be interested in.

By the time they're married, he won't really make much of a fuss over clothes or extravagant jewelry anymore though. Rather, he'll just quietly switch out her clothes for the same thing, but with higher quality materials. Though, only if the higher quality would improve their usefulness.

Nemma is initially confused, if pleasantly surprised, before she notices her partner's curiosity, as though wanting something. She then quickly realizes what he'd done & proceeds to kiss him sweetly before thanking him. To which he smiles, an uncharacteristic tenderness in his eyes.

Anyway, she actually likes dressing up so long as she's still able to move freely, if it's not super extravagant to the point where it isn't practical or gaudy, & always has access to weapons, but if she has to dress very fancily, then she'll do it begrudgingly if the one asking her is someone she cares about. But she'd still require access to weapons. She refuses to go anywhere without some form of protection.

She'll likely have difficulty getting used to the Streshibpen (Gerudo-style heeled shoes with wing-like protrusions on the sides, as worn by Urbosa), but she's willing to give it a shot. However, she does require that the ones she owns have blades in the heels & steel toes so that if anyone sneaks up on her, she can show them what a bad idea that is.

Actually, has excellent taste in fashion & enjoys looking nice despite not indulging in her more feminine traits often. Mostly due to her father's rejection of her because of her sex. This resulted in her having a somewhat negative view of femininity even though she's aware that her opinion is likely influenced by her father. Living in close proximity to Gerudo will likely help her to become on better terms with her own femininity.

Nemma has also begun to take up lapidary so that she'll always have access to the right gem.

And, while she's not an extremely jewelry-focused girl (though, she'll always take time to admire high-quality work), she knows that jewelry is a symbol of many things amongst the Gerudo, from financial power to luxury to status & even just good taste, so she likes to make Ganondorf little things every once in a while. Which, she finds it funny that he likes jewelry more than her & sometimes teases him about it.

However, she didn’t know that gifting your significant other with jewelry that you made yourself was actually the traditional way for Gerudo to propose until she gave her then husband at the time one. At which point he’d looked at her oddly then inquired if she understood the significance of the action, then informing her. Of course, being the somewhat mischievous individual that she was, she’d then spun the situation around on him by telling him that, “well, I’m honestly not particularly inclined to cease such habits, so perhaps it’s time to expand upon such a tradition?”

The king looked at his queen rather curiously. Nemma gave him as rare smile, “simply receive it as my way of informing you that ‘I would marry you all over again if I could.’” At which point, the large man’s heart leapt in his chest, a flush dawning his cheeks as she leaned in to give him a sweet peck on the rosy flesh before promptly walking off. As though she hadn’t just melted his cold heart with a single sentence. A minute or 2 after she’d left, he clutched the piece in his hand, looking at it before his surprised expression melted as warmth filled his chest.

And true to her word, the Sheikah woman had continued to make him jewelry & each & every time, he found himself recalling her words & cherishing them just a little bit more. It’s due to this that her semi-joke actually became grounded in reality as even 10,000 years later, Gerudo Vaien have continued to follow her example (though, somewhat altered by time) by giving their husbands handmade trinkets as not all Hylian men seem fond of jewelry. And when faced with a problem, you adapt. So, now, handmade jewelry is for proposal, but handmade items, clothes, & trinkets are now also used to showcase a reaffirmation of love.

Anyway, back to the story, the jewelry that Nemma makes for him is never anything excessive or too overly fancy, but it manages to strike that perfect balance between ostentatious, dashing, & classy.

She likes to practice all the Gerudo patterns that she'd learned, sometimes even mixing on a few Sheikah patterns as a subtle way of staking her claim on him. Which Ganondorf absolutely notices & it always makes him smile seeing the little Sheikah iconography adorning his regalia. It became a tiny bit of a game between them: Find the Sheikah symbol.

(A/N: Which there really doesn't seem to be much of beyond the various iterations of the Mind's Eye pattern.)

He likes to wear the jewelry she makes for him & one of his favorites is the brow ornament that she made. It had runes engraved in the back that allowed it to stick tight to his forehead, which made it less intrusive in battle. This was part of why he generally didn't wear a crown as he didn't like the idea that an opponent could take advantage of that.

But this battle crown of sorts erased such a possibility, so he found himself wearing it regularly.

It was quite the attractive work. Made of gold & in the shape of the sun with a large Sunstone embedded in the center.

(A/N: I changed it slightly so that the flowers along the basket matches the colors of Ganondorf's haori's lining. And, while you can't see it, the circles around that basket as part of the "S" border pattern actually have tiny little Sheikah eyes inside them. They're so small that, if this were a real piece of jewelry, you'd likely have to use a magnifying glass to see them, but they're there.)

(See? It isn't really something that's important, so much as I just wanted to put it in there. Also, it'd mystify the hell outta Ganon as he tries to puzzle out how the absolute eff she managed to do it.)

---

During their courtship, the most useful gifts that Ganondorf gives her is a well-trained horse, a well-trained Sand Seal, & a well-trained Sand Cat or Gel'gàtï.

The horse is actually one of Rauru's white stallions. Ganondorf stole it. Nemma jokingly named him Old Cabrón, which Cabrón is a triple-layered joke. It's a Zonai name meaning "goat," but Zonai often use it to call each other asshole.

The fact that she named one of Rauru's white stallions this after it was stolen, is a pretty obvious & cheeky jab that has Ganondorf breathless with laughter when it clicks. (And a little bit of a sassy take that. Though I don't see Rauru as the type to get offended. In fact, I see him doing a spitake before laughing heartily. Even appreciating the well-thought out pun. We stan dad joke-loving Rauru in this house. Though, he might keep the fact that his people had more in common with felines to himself in order to avoid ruining the joke.)

Old Cabrón is mostly only for the Royal Envoy. Ya know, presentation. When she's in Hyrule for an actual bounty or hit job, she uses her grey dappled mare, Mira, meaning "beautiful storm." Her coat is a stormy grey with lighter grey dappling & muzzle.

While Old Cabrón is well-trained, at least as a show pony, he really doesn't do well in conflict.

Mira, however, while not specifically a war horse, will let herself be lead across water to ford rivers & won't immediately run in the presence of monsters. So, that makes her more valuable as a mount, but her appearance isn't the best impression as far as royalty.

The pair usually end up staying at the Canyon Stable with Ganondorf's steed, Jawàrik. Named after an old Gerudo god of war.

I do think it'd be funny if Jawàrik & Cabrón ended up fighting each other over Mira & she ends up mating both & having a pair of heteroparental colts.

All that special breeding, wasted because of one dapple gray mare! XD

Anyway, Nemma would still use Mira fairly often when completing bounties in Hyrule.

The Sand Seal is a sweet & happy bull that Nemma names Yukio, to mean "joyful boy." It turns out that he's from the same litter as Ganondorf's own Sand Seal, Gàlondo. Named after another old Gerudo god of war. This one, theologically speaking, having been the son of Jawàrik. (Gdorf quite enjoys mythology in case you haven't noticed. Specifically, the mythology of his own race. Though, he's also become rather interested in Sheikah mythology as well lately.) Gàlondo is quite a bit quieter & more stoic than his younger brother. He's also somewhat bigger. Their dynamic is basically quiet, aloof cat & silly, happy, affectionate cat. Gàlondo tolerates his brother's antics.

Ganondorf's final extremely useful gift was a sweet, yet sassy little Sand Cat that Nemma names Chika, for intelligence & wisdom.

Sand Cats are very small, even compared to most house cats, but also deadly hunters & trackers. Making them useful for hunting & are also very wonderful, affectionate, if sassy companions. Their size & unusually long claws allows them to perch easily upon the shoulders of Gerudo even when sand surfing. They are mostly a sandy color with white underbellies & spots not unlike that of a cheetah in real life. Chika ends up being sort of Nemma's silent bodyguard & goes damn near everywhere with her when out of the palace. She can often be found either perched on Nemma's shoulder with ears & eyes alert or curled up in her lap.

This makes Chika & Yukio the ideal companions for Nemma whenever she wishes to explore the desert.

Ganondorf also goes along with Nemma whenever he gets the chance. Partly to keep his skills sharp & party to keep his love safe. He wouldn't be able to do it always, but he'd try to do so whenever he could & he was always welcome.

Mira, though, is gentle & sweet with a surprisingly strong will. Jawàrik is stern & grumpy, as well as being well-trained as a war horse. As for Old Cabrón, he's... a little bit of a diva, but isn't difficult to deal with otherwise. Imagine if Maximus had Eugene's personality. (Both from Tangled.)

So, Nemma definitely has quite the menagerie going on at this point.

Nemma also already has a carrier hawk named Dantey that she's been using to correspond with her grandmother back in Kakariko & had been training as a battle hawk. He & Chika get on surprisingly well. At the same time, Chika & Yukio also get along very well, while Dantey was initially somewhat put off by the large seal's enthusiasm, but much like Gàlondo, will eventually begin to tolerate him before learning to like him & even fuss over him.

Not that Ganondorf gives her all these animals at once.

—

One of Nemma's many duties as queen will involve dancing & it's especially important for her wedding day. However, dancing just isn't something she'll have ever even thought about before beyond for festivals. At the same time, due to it being part of her responsibilities, she'll put her all into it as she is an extremely responsible individual who takes duty very seriously.

While, initially, she won't be very quick to learn, that will change once Tïsàla, her guard friend, brings up the idea of al'Tàrren'è al'Saadïdjéda (the Guarding Dance of the Crescents), the Gerudo style of self-defensive scimitar swordfighting that utilizes dance in its movements. She'll naturally gravitate more towards al'Yusréda'vùnen'è al'Dïnatàrr style (the Crescent Dance of the Rushing Winds), which involves dual-wielding scimitars, rather than al'Forzumàh'è al'Dïnatàrr style (the Crescent Dance of the Moonflower), which substitutes one scimitar for a shield.

Upon being able to correlate dancing to fighting, she goes from struggling to excelling as though everything suddenly clicks into place inside her head. After which, she quickly begins enjoying herself & is able to apply those same ideas to her regular dance lessons. Though, she'll always be most comfortable with a weapon in her hand, she does grow to appreciate regular dancing as well.

Already she was beginning to think of how she could integrate the fighting style into her pre-existing one, which she believes will grant her more fluidity, flexibility, & dynamism as Sheikah Kenjutsu tends to be very direct, much like herself. She quite likes the dervish-like movements.

After getting confident enough with dancing on her own, Ganondorf is brought in to help her learn to dance as a pair.

It's now something they both very much enjoy doing together.

---

Nemma has a do-it-myself-personally sort of attitude & this results in her being seen as a lone wolf type. When something needs to be done & everyone else is too busy wasting time trying to figure out an over-complicated strategy to deal with it, (if she deems it necessary) she'll just go & deal with it herself.

That isn't to say that she's rash or doesn't think. Quite the contrary, she's extremely intelligent & strategic, but she's also best at on-the-fly planning & is just an overall decisive individual.

99.99% of the time, her missions end in success even if she comes back somewhat injured.

However, this will tend to stress Ganondorf out quite a bit because he, just as an individual, is very controlling & worries about her.

This will end up being their second real argument.

Regardless of how the argument ends, Nemma will have to learn to trust & work together with others more & Ganondorf will have to learn to be less controlling.

---

One way that Nemma does this is by cooking for & with others as this was one of her most fondly remembered ways of bonding with her grandmother. She actually gets along well with the cooks & though shocked that their king's fiancée was gracing them with her presence, they respect her do-it-myself attitude. They are also extremely interested in the many, many different recipes she's learned from all over & some are even interested in hearing the history & cultural significance behind those dishes. She quickly makes friends with one of the chefs, Nīra.

Ganondorf, despite having initially been against her cooking her own meals, believing it to be the work of servants, he quickly shuts up upon actually trying her cooking.

He ends up loving it & begins to try to cook with her to bond. But it turns out that he's terrible at it. (Which he's honest enough with himself to recognize.)

However, Nemma is patient & encouraging with him. Teaching comes naturally to her as she used to teach the Kakariko children how to cook as well as about the history behind certain dishes & which ingredients give the best results.

One of her great joys is learning new dishes from where she travels, as well as the history behind them. The Sheikah refer to it as Bunka Bishoku. In real life, it is called cultural gastronomy.

Nemma now cooks for them almost every night. Though not during royal functions, of course.

---

While, normally, the Dai Kaiten Giri (Great Spin Attack) is a mobile spinning attack with great reach when using most swords.

Nemma finds that when utilized with the Yusréda'vúnen'è al'Dïnatàrr style & Shim'tàrren (scimitars), the attack's aura extends upwards into a cone-shape much like a tornado.

The attack is still mobile, but this way is much more controllable than what is normally expected of the usually indiscriminant attack.

This is an extremely rare & difficult technique to master as it requires fighting & killing 20 Darknuts & obtaining their Knight's Crests. In Gerudàn, it's called Dāgàl'zôba Ūsub (Great Sand Tornado Technique).

—

As for the wedding, if you think that grandma wasn't invited to the wedding, then you are sadly mistaken. (Nemma's father & mother definitely weren't. Even though she has insecurities revolving around them, she's long since stopped agonizing over them or trying to gain their favor. Seeing them as not worth the effort.)

The first time she visited, no one knows how, but that little old lady managed to put the fear of the Goddesses into Ganondorf without even making a single open threat. All done with a passive aggressive, yet sharp, clipped tone & subtle, but targeted insinuations as to what would happen to him & his family jewels if he ever broke her grandbaby's heart. After all, where did he think Nemma learned about toxins?

(She also sees the green tint to his complexion & knows what it indicates for a Gerudo. The young may have forgotten, but stories of such practices still persist in the form of grim ghost stories.)

(She knows that the man & those 2 horrid crones all 3 practice the dark arts. She doesn't know whether or not they do so now, but she knows they at least did at one point in their lives. Black magic just leaves a sort of stain on the body, as if to warn those around them. Much like how poisonous frogs come in vivid colors to show that they are dangerous. Of course, it manifests differently within Hyruleans. Causing them to go a deathly pale. Much like corpses. Which causes her to wonder, albiet briefly, if Gerudo turn green in death rather than white? If so, she wonders what causes it.)

(And while she's never fought Gerudo witches or warlocks, she's had to kill numerous Hyrulean ones.)

(Ayamay never thought that her grandbaby would ever meet one after the purges so long ago, but here they were. It's a good thing that she'd had that seal applied to the dear at a young age just in case. If nothing else, it'd keep all but the darkest & most powerful of black magics from taking hold. Which she may need if she's to live with a pair of witches who obviously despise her.)

(Looks like she was moving to the desert.)

After she left the room, Ganondorf glanced subtly at the cup in his hand before dumping its contents into a nearby plant pot. Until he's granted the old woman's favor, he's hyper aware of food & drink. What he doesn't know is that she'd never dream of poisoning anything her grandbaby made. The last time she did that, Nemma had been so upset! (Not that the young man needed to know that. A bit of squirming might do him some good. She could tell that he was pretty big in his britches.)

Best part is, Ganondorf couldn't even confront her on it without looking like a paranoid idiot because, as I said, she was very subtle.

Even though Nana's a homemaker, she was actually a Sheikah warrior herself when she was in her prime. And quite the formidable one at that. (She's also the one who taught Nemma how to use a Jōhyō as it'd been her main weapon of choice. Though, the Jōhyō Han Kote that the younger generation (including Nemma) prefers was never something she could figure out for whatever reason.)

(Never could figure out where her idiot son had gotten such dumbass ideas into his head either, but Sacred Realm knows he regretted it when she got her hands on the boy! Also, she may or may not have hunted down her daughter-in-law like a dog & threatened her to either go back & be an actual mother or to start running far, far away & praying to Hylia that Ayamay never sees her near her grandbaby again, because if she did, there wouldn't be enough left of the woman to fill a knife box!)

Anyway, later Ayamay ushered Ganondorf to the side & informed him of the H��chō-Kaku (knife block) he was expected to gift her grandbaby. To which, he was surprised, but hearing of the tradition, he asked how one was expected to obtain such an object. She then began to teach him how to whittle, which was a task in & of itself. While he could've simply had one commissioned from a Kakariko woodworker, he appeared determined to do this himself. He knew that, as a craftswoman, Nemma would appreciate the effort that would go into the creation of such a traditional item.

That was when the old woman first decided that she liked this boy. She was fairly competent at woodworking herself, though not professional. Ayamay recommended that he make it a Mamena-Kaku (knife block for a professional chef) & line the compartments with whetstone. Either way, the next time she visited, she brought the schematics for a Mamena-Kaku with her & Gdorf spent the next several months until the wedding learning how to work with wood & build this knife block.

In the end, it was pretty damn decent & the outside seemed to be somewhat decorative featuring a melding of Gerudo & Sheikah designs, though he never wanted to do that again. Luckily, there weren't any other such marriage traditions for the Sheikah.

The little old lady had since moved out of Kakariko to live with them. Which honestly shocked Ganondorf, as he figured the aged woman would quickly die of heatstroke, but Ayamay's a tough old biddy. Besides, it wasn't like she had anything left for her in Kakariko besides her good-for-nothing son & her husband's grave, which she could still visit 2 times a year. Once on the anniversary of her husband's death & once in fall for the Sheikioku Festival. (A Sheikah festival that's a mix of a Tsukimi Festival, Obon, & Dia de los Muertos. It's a week of basking in the beauty of the night & celebrating life so that the spirits of their ancestors do not worry for them & linger longer than they need to, but the final night, always on the last lunar bookend phase of the season, whether the full moon or the lunar eclipse, is dedicated to visiting the graveyard, paying respects to one's ancestors, & leaving them offerings of foods & drinks that they'd enjoyed in life.)

Funnily enough, Ayamay ends up becoming bitter enemies of Ganondorf's adoptive mothers. Outwardly, they're the sort that results in cutting remarks & snippy, backhanded comments. Like actual old ladies.

(But behind closed doors, the 2 witches plot ways to kill both Sheikah women with Ayamay foiling their every course of action via old witch-hunting tricks.)

They despise each other.

And in many ways, Ganondorf eventually finds a real mother figure in her. (Once she realizes that he's every bit as much of a victim of Kōme & Kotake's crimes as anyone, that is. Doesn't stop him from being Ganondorf & making rotten decisions, but Ayamay hopes that by providing him with what he'd needed growing up, a loving mother, she might be able to gray him more. She always was the more conniving one in their little family.) One who's only expectation of him is to treat her granddaughter well. Which... is oddly comforting... & in a lot of ways, he has difficulty figuring out what to do with that. (Not that he shows it ever. He just isn't a very well-adjusted individual & was sorely lacking in a father figure growing up, which doesn't show itself often, but when it does, the sheer absence of positive male role models in his life will become extremely apparent. It must've been remarkably isolating & very confusing to grow up as a boy in an all-female society.)

---

As for Ganondorf's wedding attire, go here for a rundown.

And to learn about Gerudo wedding traditions, go here.

---

The Desert Gerudo tend to tell stories through dance & it is tradition for a married couple to give a brief dance performance detailing their journey to marriage during the festivities after the actual wedding.

Due to the unusual way that Ganondorf & Nemma got together, they opt for a just as unusual wedding dance by choosing to start off with a Sàl'dïnatàrr Zaydahànt (a performative scimitar dance duel) which is normally reserved for portraying epic battles.

They managed to portray both fierceness, curiosity, romance, & eventual lust with appropriate nuance & even subtlety in the case of that last part.

Then, they'd sheath their swords to begin a normal Zayda (sort of a pas de duex). They showed themselves seeming to tiptoe around each other while also testing the waters. Not necessarily stumbling, but (purposefully) catching each other by "awkwardly" stepping on each other's feet or "accidentally" kicking the other in the legs. All while still managing to appear graceful.

But they quickly settle into easy fluidity before performing more complex & romantic steps that require more cooperation & synergy. And they even find themselves getting caught up in each other.

It's a delight to behold.

---

One other thing of note was that the Sheikah use dye to imprint the wife's first steps into her new home after marriage. Which she did.

---

Anyway, Nemma's wedding gift to Ganondorf was a custom 2-handed sword, designed for his specific size, that she made herself using the same techniques that she'd used to make her own as well as the ones that she'd learned while in the desert.

Though, instead of Zoridium-Dawasaaq steel like what she used to replace the blade of the Namikaze no Odori, she used pure Dawasaaq Steel from the Gerudo Highlands as the steel from the desert doesn't seem to be nearly as pure as that from the Highlands. Again, Dawasaaq steel is the best for blade creation. Though, for some reason, it's only the iron & titanium deposits that have this problem. Everything else mined in the desert, especially the jeweler's metals, are very high quality. Gold, silver, platinum, & even copper are all extremely pure.

Anyway, then she melted a Silver Lynel Saber Horn as well as a Flame Gleeok Horn into the metal, then folded liquified Ruby into the blade just like she did with the Emeralds to make her own blade's ripples. The blade itself was thinner, wider, & more curved than a traditional katana with a darker color & the crossguard was based on a shim'tàrr'jï (scimitar's) design & made of a titanium-gold alloy with the Gerudo writing for Hellfire, "Fa'gáron," decorating the blade's edge & had polished Onyx or Black Pearl for the pommel. There was also the image of either Volvagia, Dinraal, or Dragondorf (I can't decide which) etched into the side of the blade along the false edge, stretching from hilt to point with the tail pointed towards the hilt. The image will start small at the hilt & slowly get bigger at the point, its mouth opened wide to show off its teeth. Finally, the grip was of katana design, if curved like a shim'tàrr'jï, & wrapped with Shadow Lizalfos leather. (Think of a mix of a Scimitar & a Dadao. And Shadow Lizalfos are just something I made up. They're basically just Lizalfos with a darkness element.)

This is how it looks, just minus the dragon etching:

It has 165 base damage & with a one-word command, the edge of the blade would be lit ablaze with shadowy flames.

It was based on the blueprints of a traditional Gerudo weapon that she'd found in the massive ruin of what was, unknown to her, the ancient Temple of Spirit, dedicated to the worship of the Goddess of the Sand, while exploring the desert. The closest that she'd seen to it were their shim'tàrren (scimitars), but this would be too large to hold with only 1 hand the way that shim'tàrren were, even for a large man like Ganondorf, but not so large that he couldn't wield it with 2. So, it was likely meant for 2-handed combat much like the katana & Golden Claymore were. Yet entirely different & made for more fluid movements than a Golden Claymore would allow. True, she'd made a couple of personal additions, but that was more to improve the sword's overall capabilities. Over 90% of the blade's design remained faithful to the image she saw.

It was really a work of genius. She wondered who originally came up with the design.

She'd only just begun learning Gerudo, but she'd at least memorized their codex. The sword was called a "shim'shïr." (The name being based on a Shamshir, but the form being more in line with, as mentioned above, a Scimitar & a Dadao.) Nemma thinks that this could be an ancient, lost Gerudo weapon from long before the arrival of the Zonai.

Back to Gdorf, they both revealed their gifts, Nemma's the sword & Ganondorf's the Mamena Hōchō-Kaku. Upon initially receiving the sword, he'd been... stunned... While receiving gifts was no unusual thing for him as a king. Those tended to be with the intent of receiving his favor or showcasing their own gift-giving prowess.

It was the genuineness & obvious hard work & dedication behind the gift that gave him pause. The painstaking quality of the work itself was simply exquisite & he knew that such a work of art comes from a place of deep passion & love for what one does. Such dedication makes their work positively sing.

Yet, instead of presenting it to him in front of his court, which would have surely gained her accolades, she simply gave it to him in their chambers alone & had seemed rather flustered, even nervous which despite the short time they've known each other, he already knew was unusual for her. Though, she held it together well & remained mostly stoic, she couldn't hide it from his keen eyes trained to find & exploit weaknesses. The barest dusting of rose had bloomed delicately upon her tanned cheeks. Which he was forced to admit, was a very attractive color on her.

The blade, her work, meant a lot to her & in a way, she was giving him power over her simply by showing him that his opinion mattered to her. (Whether she's in love by this point or not is up to the writer, but she definitely at least has a major crush.)

Quite simply, she is obviously hoping that this marriage could eventually come to be built on something he wasn't yet sure he was capable of giving her.

And, for the first time in his life, he did not wish to exploit the power he'd just been given so freely & readily, as his instincts willed him to. He... He respected her... And when was the last time he could say something like that?

"I respect you too & thank you. Sheikah iconography, but in a Gerudo style. They seem to synergize oddly well. And the whetstone interior was a clever touch."

Snapping back out of his daze, their eyes met, contact made. He must've said that out loud. Then what she said registered & Ganondorf suddenly felt bashful watching her fondly trace the etchings he'd carved into the knife block's surface with so much care.

He hadn't felt so awkward since... well, puberty. How could he handle such genuine honesty?

Nàkah (fuck), his face was heating up... Gdorf quickly turned away to hide the evidence of his emotions. He was glad that she liked his gift though...

Upon inspection, the blade channeled his magic wonderfully & was much more fluid in its use than the Golden Claymore. Not to mention, much deadlier. While his main weapon was a Katana, this sword was…

The blade quickly became his favored weapon. He named it Fa'gáron'jï Bojaqàr'è. Or Hellfire's Shadow.

---

That night, Ganondorf & Nemma were to bathe together in order to get used to each other's body. It wasn't uncommon in Gerudo society for new couples to experience their first times together while bathing.

However, this particular pair managed to hold off until they were clean & got to bed.

That night was full of tender passion. While this would be their first time fully committing the act together, they've made out & engaged in heavy petting before.

And have certainly caused each other to discharge, but this would be different.

*Riske Content Warning*

It took some serious stretching, but she took him wonderfully. And they ended up both seeing stars despite Ganondorf being far more experienced.

Honestly, he really shouldn't have fit at all, yet somehow he had. Ganondorf suspects that his little bride might have a hidden talent for sex magic, which is an extremely rare magic to begin with. Otherwise, he would've likely only fit about half to 2/3 of the way.

At some point, he finds himself caging her in, her nails & heels digging into his back in a way that heated his blood. She wailed as her core fluttered around him, her hips arching up to meet his own.

Before it finally came to a shuddering, climactic end, hips stuttering as he bit deep into her shoulder to keep himself from screaming too loudly.

*End of Riske Content*

It left them both panting & sweaty as their highs deescalated.

Of course, that would only be the first of many rounds that night.

---

This isn't to say that their sex will always be this tender & sweet. Both can be very rough & sometimes crave more force.

Sometimes, they can get downright wild.

Nemma especially knows when she's in for a wild night when Gdorf looks at her like a predator stalking its prey.

The sharpness in his eyes, like he's going to eat her, always gets her going.

And, for whatever reason, Nemma loves being chased by him. Sometimes, she'll see that look in his eye & playfully run off, out of the encampment, beckoning him to pursue. She could easily lose him (though, not for long), but most times, she just wants a bit of cat & mouse before the main event.

Most times, she'll let him catch her.

But when she's really looking for some fun, she'll put him through his paces & make him actually track her down. May even have him fight her & wrestle her to the ground. Oftentimes, during those fights, she'll take moments to cop a feel & get him even more riled up.

Those times always end with the most hedonistic sex that has them filling the desert with sound until sunup.

---

Once she's managed to gain enough experience, Nemma will eventually be able to find ways to legitimately dominate Ganondorf both subtly & overtly. Especially with all the advice given to her by Tïsàla & Nīra.

Not that this is the sort of thing that would happen often. But even Ganondorf could admit that the wanton pleasure & the sight of his bride so dominant over him, was worth letting go of a little power for just a bit.

At first, he was surprised, then uncomfortable. Not that he was ever unaware of the sorts of things that his subjects got up to with foreign men when outside the Gerudo Encampment (as the only one of the Gerudo with a permanent home was Ganondorf, while the rest had tents).

He was also aware of Tïsàla's... reputation as a born vàsitulïxàmba (a vai who is a dominatrix, but it isn't her job & she does it for fun & always with consent). Before vo'màzren & their vàsitulïxan were disbanded, he had been contemplating forcing her into the position of paid vàsitulïxa as she'd always rejected the offer when asked.

Now, though, it seemed that her talents had landed herself a voe who, while traditionally masculine by Hyrulean standards, was a switch & didn't seem to mind the rough play or the use of stolkén. (Don't ask.)

The very idea that Nemma could... use that... on him? He... he'd never really thought about it before...

He... wasn't sure? Just the thought of it seemed to heat his blood, but he couldn't help the shame that painted his face red at the idea of letting anyone have so much control over him.

It makes him feel hot in the "this is so wrong, but so effing hot & I kinda wanna try it once" kind of way.

---

Also, brushing each other's hair & bathing together are very relaxing & intimate bonding experiences for them. It is a Gerudo tradition for married couples to bathe together & wash each other.

Funny enough, they both secretly adore & admire each other's hair for different reasons, wishing that their own was like their spouse's. Ganondorf often compares Nemma's to spun silk that he could spend hours running his fingers through despite the split ends that he regularly finds at the beginning of their marriage. Meanwhile, Nemma admires how easy Gdorf's is to work with, not to mention how much volume & body it has, while also managing to be thick & strong much like the mane of a horse. (Though, Gerudo hair oils seem to be doing wonders for her own & living in one spot allows her to take better care of her hair. So, no more split ends!) She loves gently pulling all his hair into a long, thick braid before bed.

As for Ganondorf, he absolutely frickin' loves the feel of his wife's hands in his hair. Her fingers gently scratching his scalp does wonders for his stress levels & once he's grown to completely trust her, then if he's not careful, he's liable to fall asleep in her arms, an oddly content little smile across his lips as he snoozes.

I also hc that the Sheikah have a war strategy game that's basically Pai Sho from Avatar & that it's one way that they end up bonding.

---

Anyway, as they grow closer, it'll come to Ganondorf's attention that Nemma actually has a knack for ruling & he finds himself able to delegate some of his duties to her without worry, which takes a great deal of weight off of his shoulders that he hadn't realized was there before. Though, she's admittedly much more merciful than him. While both rule with iron fists, hers is sheathed in a silk glove. This results in the Gerudo quite liking her.

They begin to refer to her as their Vàmàh Vai'àtta, or Moon Queen. Some even speculate that she may be the vessel of Amàhrta, the Gerudo Goddess of the Moon, Mirrors, Dreams, Visions, & Prophecy. (It's bs, but there are certainly quite a lot of coincidences that end up perpetuating the rumor even though it's false. As a result, her subjects have gifted her with silver & moonstone jewelry & moonlight scimitars of varying qualities.)

---

I also think that they'd love sparing fairly frequently. Literally the highlight of their week. Though, it's sort of like foreplay to them & tends to end rather... carnally...

The first time Nemma had him on his back, the sharpened edge of her Sheikatō pressed to his throat, he shivered. Her steely, indigo stare shifted for but a moment in disbelief before shifting back to that battle-hardened glare.

Ganondorf's heart suddenly skipped a beat. What was this feeling?

Of finally finding an equal?

On the one hand, he was angry at having been bested, even by his own wife. On the other, he'd never been harder in his entire life. It was like finally meeting someone who was truly on his level. He had... never felt more seen before...

What was this thrill of meeting one who could catch him so off guard, yet does not see him as less?

This humbled awe? Is this what Nemma had felt when he first bested her?

If so, then he could see now why she had so readily agreed to marry him.

Finding someone that he could fight at his best & would give the same in return.

Who saw both his virtues & his flaws, yet did not turn away in disgust or fear or hatred.

It was… intoxicating…

Ganondorf decided then, that this woman was worthy of his weak moments. Worthy of not seeing him always at his best.

He wanted her. Hotly & with relish.

Then, the white-haired yailàra (warrior woman by trade or occupation) leaned down & Gdorf knew that she was claiming her prize. He gave a shuttering breath just before their lips met in a searing kiss.

*Riske Content Warning*

Her hips ground against the bulge in his sirwàl.

Even as she rode him, hard & fast, her blade remained pointed at his throat. Ganondorf couldn't help the thrill he got at being forced to remain still & just take what she gave him.

Of course, it'd taken damn near everything in her to pin him down even once in a straight one-on-one fight & that was mostly due to catching him off guard. She won't get many more chances like this, so she endeavors to relish it while she could. She made sure to milk him dry. Thoroughly.

*End of Riske Content*

They both knew that he could break away or escape at any moment, but he obviously didn't want to.

—

After a long day of work, Nemma likes to lay on Ganondorf's chest & relax. He'll often have his arms wrapped loosely around her & hum quietly as he runs his fingers over her back.

She'll frequently respond in kind & proceed to snuggle into him. Sometimes they'll even take short naps like that.

---

At some point, in order to show that she's trying to be better about trusting others & working with them, Nemma will make a pair of Gossip Stone Earrings, giving Ganondorf 1 while she keeps the other. This is her way of trusting him. So that if she ever runs off like that again, he'll always be able to reach her.

Here they are. Not sure which ones I prefer.

Yes, he can absolutely see a tactical advantage to making a large number of these earrings & giving them to his soldiers, but at the same time, he is a selfish man & this was his wife's attempt at making things right between them. He wanted to keep this special.

They never take their respective earring off. Ever. Period.

It's just... such a comfort to have their spouse's heartbeat in their ear at all times.

---

Nemma knows what her husband wants to do, knows he wants to conquer Hyrule, but before that, she brought up the idea of using Hyrule's resources to put his tribe in a better place beforehand.

This seems to make Gdorf smile slyly & complement her on her deviousness.

From this moment until the time that Ganondorf chooses to steal the Secret Stone, they will be utilizing Hyrule to build the foundations for what will become Gerudo Town later on.

By the time that he kills Sonia, the palace (with 2 thrones specifically), outer walls, aqueducts, sewers, training ground, the shelter, & a forge will be finished. However, the rest of the town, such as homes & businesses will not be built until much later. As a result, the rest of the Gerudo tend to sleep in the shelter at night & use the empty space in the walls for important work tents such as the food tent, weaving tent, medical tent, etcetera.

This way, the Gerudo have a permanent place to take shelter.

Beforehand, the Gerudo would use a canopy tent to forge their weapons, jewelry, & armor & despite their skill at making weapons, this made forging reliant on the weather. At least, even more so than normal.

As soon as the forge was finished, Nemma began to work. One of many things that she made was a Gyuto-Bōchō for Nīra & the other cooks each, having been teaching them the basics of Santoku. They were all absolutely thrilled as they'd all heard of the incredible versatility & usefulness of such Sheikah kitchen knives.

You haven't lived till you've seen a small group of 7-8 foot tall women hopping up & down & shouting with joy like a bunch of teenage girls. It's fucking adorable!

Also, Ayamay had begun to help out in the cooking tent too. (After retiring from being a warrior, she'd opened up a small restaurant that served homecooked meals.)

---

At some point after their wedding, they return to Castle Town more for the sake of diplomacy than an actual desire to, as Nemma is the Gerudo Queen now & there's something of a celebration being held in honor of their union. All the major powers in the Great Hyrule Alliance were going to be there; the Zora Royal Family, the Rito Elder & his family, the Sheikah Cheiftain & his family, & the Head Foreman of Gorondia & his sons. As well as several other important families.

(It was absolutely Rauru trying to draw them out so that he could get Nemma alone to try & convince her to side with Hyrule & while neither Nemma nor Ganondorf knew this, they both sort of looked at each other skeptically.)

They'd arrive there the night before, would stay in the Palace (on the Great Plateau as the Castle & Castle Town we know of didn't exist then), relax & enjoy the sights the next day, & that evening, the celebration would begin.

Anyway, at some point during that celebration, some rich asshole makes a snide remark about Nemma being so thoroughly armed & it being unseemly of a queen.

To which Ganondorf would basically tell the bastard to 'square up, bitch.' Using his full height to loom over his target & assert dominance.

He'd assert that she is more than just his queen, she is also a warrior & will not be disrespected in his presence!

Meanwhile, Nemma is used to such comments about her lifestyle & would normally prefer to defend herself, but... she admits that it feels nice to have her honor defended & to be treated as the warrior she was & always strived to be. Also, that height & the aura of pure dominance he exuded then? Meow! XD

Later, Nemma would be herded to an isolated area (which she'd recognize immediately & she'd certainly lead the guards on a merry chase; not by causing an altercation, but more so by managing to blend in with the crowd simply by changing her posture & aura, which would result in Rauru having to use his own Sheikah guards, including her father, to do so; not that Rauru knows of their relation at this time). Where Rauru would try to convince Nemma to help him convince her husband not to make any rash decisions. Nemma would quickly realize what he was actually asking her due to a mixture of her own intelligence & her skills in Yomijutsu, & being the blunt & straightforward individual that she was, she'd just state as such outright.

"You want me to choose Hyrule over my husband should things go sour between our kingdoms."

Rauru would sputter & try to reiterate it more delicately, but Nemma would have none of it.

She sees past the bs & she'd tell him that if he wanted her to even consider anything he has to say, then he'll be candid & quit pussyfooting around the topic.

Regardless, she'd say that she wouldn't encourage her husband to attack them, but she wouldn't be Rauru's yesman either. In the end, Rauru's attempt to have her side with Hyrule would inevitably fail. In fact, I feel as though Nemma would be insulted at the idea that she'd ever consider betraying her husband.

Either way, she'd return to her husband's side with a lesser view of Rauru & proceed to inform Ganondorf of everything that'd happened & what the King of Hyrule had asked of her.

Which would cause the man's yandere tendencies to flare & his plan to kill Sonia to solidify.

If Rauru hadn't done this, Ganondorf would've elected to simply steal the Secret Stone from Sonia as Nemma & Ayamay had softened him to such a degree, but this would spark possessiveness & paranoia in the Gerudo. Even though he knows, logically, that it's not likely & he trusts Nemma implicitly at this point (especially after having told him everything so directly & without pretense, which he's always appreciated about her), he can't help the little voice in the back of his head telling him that Rauru wanted to steal away his beloved wife for himself.

And while having a second spouse was not necessarily unheard of in Gerudo society (though never a third), it wasn't encouraged & infidelity was treated as a heinous taboo worthy of stoning.

—

However, despite this, I don't think that Rauru would attempt to actually kidnap Nemma until after Ganondorf had killed Sonia & stolen the Secret Stone & it would partly be done in retribution.

---

Before leaving to take the Secret Stone, Gdorf had removed the brow ornament, which he taken to calling a Nīkôz Khepnïsut (literally, "victory brow ornament), & wrapped it up before placing it in his jewelry chest along with any other jewelry that his beloved wife had crafted for him. He did not want to risk it being damaged if it chose one of them & ended up damaging one of her gifts. As much as he wanted to be proudly adorned in her gifts, logically, he didn't want to damage them.

When the new Demon King returned home, he was a horror to all beheld him.

Nemma was horrified by his state, but was not afraid of him. Rather, she was afraid for him. But when she ran up to meet him & went to touch his cheek, she was burned & this seemed to snap Ganondorf out of his sadistic trance.

Before, he'd been in a sort of battle high fueled by blood lust that had taken hold of his mind similar to a pair of spindly hands curling their fingers around his brain, marveling at the power he could feel flowing through him. He felt like he could do anything, be anything! It was intoxicating!

But hearing his wife scream, her hands burned at the mere touch of him, he was suddenly very aware of each & every drop of Miasma that dripped from his skin as though blood from a fatal wound. The black in his schlera seemed to retreat like shadows into grey & his expression dropped in grim realization.

His first instinct was to hold her & examine her injury, but remembering what'd just happened, he folded his arms over his chest to keep from touching her & ordered his guards to see to her injuries. (Several of them noticed how the mark of a shell began to glow faintly upon her brow, though only briefly, the light seeming to beat back Ganondorf's Miasma. However, they were far too harried to make comment & they quickly forgot about it in the rush of the war that followed. Ganondorf himself was also much too worried & panicked for it to really register.)

Ganondorf ended up buzzing around her much like a worried bee & made quite the nuisance of himself in the medical tent. Nothing his staff did seemed to fix it or even slow it down & he could only watch, trembling, in terror as the Miasma from his own body seemed to slowly creep over more of her skin. He seemed to fall into a panic. His mind repeating the words "you did this!" Then, Ayamay rushed in, got a good look at the injury (mentally noting the glowing mark, but putting away for later), & something seemed to click inside her head. She then ran back out & a few minutes later returned with a very familiar, golden flower. Blessedly, it worked. (Ayamay silently contemplated how the light kept Son-in-law's dark power at bay & shivered with dread as it hit her that without that light, Nemma might've died before she could retrieve the Sundelion. The old Shadow Warrior sent up a quiet prayer of thanks to Kariaina-no-Mikoto for protecting her grandbaby as she recognized the mark as being that of the goddess of love's in origin.)

It doesn't escape Ganondorf's notice, the irony that what had harmed his beloved wife had been the very power he had sought so ardently & the only cure ending up being something so heavily associated with the very queen that he had just killed in order to obtain it. Perhaps this was karma?

Later that night, Ganondorf & Nemma talked about what to do moving forward in their quarters.

Nemma isn't a traditionally good person, being more morally gray than anything, & has taken more than her fair share of lives, but she's also a logical & reasonable individual. And she didn't support her husband's actions. If anything, she very much advised him against it.

She warned him that there would be more consequences for his decision & that if he wasn't careful, the cost might end up being more than he was willing to give.

She never had any issues with Sonia, herself, & honestly mourned for her & Rauru's daughter who had been made motherless that night. But, at the end of the day, if he was absolutely sure that this was what he wanted & he chose to go through with his plans, then so long as he spared the children, if there was no enslavement, & if he spared those who stayed out of his way, then she would support him. She wouldn't fight with him at his side in this, but she would be there for him at the end of every fight if he'd allow it.

An intrusive thought broke into Ganondorf's mind to punish the woman for her insolence. Normally, he'd just bat it away like a pesky fly. But since he'd taken the Secret Stone, the thoughts became louder & more intrusive. In the past, the invasive thoughts were never things that he'd ever consider doing, but were also not things he was totally against. At least, until tonight.

Now, they seemed to whisper dark promises into his mind. The sort of things that made him recoil. Things to hurt Nemma. To take advantage of her. To fuck her into submission. It made him feel sick inside. Perhaps if this had been just after having met her, then he would've considered it, but now? Now, just the idea of doing something like that to his beloved wife made him want to vomit.

And the fact that there was ever a time when he would've considered doing such to his wife? It shames him deeply…

And, if Ganondorf were being reasonable, her demands were fair. Especially considering what he'd just done to her. Albeit, inadvertently. Most would've taken the first chance they got to escape him afterwards, but she was still here & still loved him. Disappointed in him, but still loved him.

In that instant, he was nearly overwhelmed with the need to hold his wife tight. And his arms rose on instinct before he flinched.

As mentioned above, Ganondorf is quite touch starved & he relished in his wife's affection. He craves her touch like a suffocating man does air.

So, after having her to satiate that previously unknown need, only to now be unable to indulge in it at any time he wished? Unable to feel her skin caress his or confirm that she was alright by examining her with his own hands, he suddenly felt trapped in his own skin. Almost confined by the very prize he'd pursued.

It was very uncomfortable. In a lot of ways, it turned the Secret Stone & the power it bequeathed into more of a double-edged sword than he thought they'd be. One that he'd, unknowingly, eventually have to decide whether or not it was worth it.

Ganondorf took a moment & thought... Then, with a lot of mental resistance, he removed the Secret Stone from his head. And, suddenly those dark whispers were dulled back to a quiet buzz & his mind was much clearer, though still slightly fogged.

Instantly, Gdorf raised his hand, the appendage stopping for a moment as if unsure, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the pads of his pointer & middle finger as if in worry, before his beautiful bride raised her own & laced their fingers together.

His heart fluttered & he took a deep breath. His eyes tearing up a bit, but not falling, as he pulled her gently into his lap & embraced her, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

And he apologized & said that he understood. That he wouldn't make her do anything & that having her with him was enough.

However, much like an addiction, Ganondorf would find himself looking back at his ill-gotten prize & find himself craving that feeling of raw power again.

He'd end up adorning the Secret Stone again the next day. And while he wore it, he'd keep his arms folded when near his wife. As it'd become habit to rest his hand on either her hip, her shoulder, or lower back whenever they stood together & the last thing he'd allow was her to be harmed by his own hand again.

---

The next time Ganondorf saw Ayamay, she was giving him the side-eye & he knew that he was in trouble. He'd... never felt ashamed like this before... For the first time since he was a small voevï (boy), he couldn't meet someone's gaze.

She narrowed her eyes & seemed to come to a conclusion.

"Listen well, boy." He flinched. "If you never take any other advise from me, you better take this to heart. Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely. You better figure out what it is you're willing to sacrifice for such lofty pursuits or you'll end up loosing something you weren't willing to give."

There was that phrase again. Something he wasn't willing to loose.

Beforehand, he'd have said that he wasn't willing to loose his power or his control... but was that really true anymore?

He didn't know...

---

Anyway, Gdorf would pillage & run roughshod through Hyrule on Jawàrik, who was transformed as he was, into a nightmarish unicorn that would skewer victims with his jagged horn. The haze of blood lust & power flooding his mind in a red cloud. Murdering those who got in his way, but never a child or those who avoided him. Oh, he'd come close, but he'd always manage to stop before that. And whenever he heard of one of his Lynel minions taking advantage of the enemy for unwanted carnal pursuits, he would have them killed. However, his vaien were allowed to take from any men they defeated in battle.

And upon returning to his room at night, he'd remove the stone to indulge in the tender affections he'd been deprived of throughout the day.

However, every time he did, he'd find it more & more difficult to take the stone off. Not physically, but mentally.

(Imagine it as if 2 diametrically opposed addictions were battling in his head. He can't indulge in both at the same time & he has to choose which one is more important to him at a given moment. Resulting in him creating a sort of loose schedule for when he can indulge in one or the other. It's difficult to keep to as he desires both, but he knows that Rauru will retaliate at some point & he refuses to not be prepared.)

Upon seeing his wife once more, thoughts had slowly begun invading his mind. Whispers of ravaging her body while still under the influence of the Secret Stone, specifically reveling in the pain it caused her. But he'd push them away furiously. The very idea of harming her in pursuit of his own personal pleasure while disregarding her own was disgusting & shameful to him. Though, they'd only come as brief flashes & half-formed thoughts normally.

Then, one night, Ganondorf had a depraved nightmare.

Of raping his wife. Of watching her be consumed by the Miasma that leaked like a bloody gash from his body. Of rutting her violently as she screamed in agony, her body being twisted by his dark power into a perfect little, obedient fuck toy. Over & over again until she begged him to stop, but he'd continue until she passed out.

Ganondorf bolted upright in bed. A cold sweat coating his skin in a fine sheen. He gasped for air, finding it difficult to breathe as he turned to look for his wife. She was sound asleep, but seemed to be stirring.

The Gerudo King covered his mouth to keep from waking her as he panicked silently only to discover that he was crying. He hadn't cried since he was a child.

Ganondorf didn't tell Nemma about his dream the next day or ever. He was terrified that she'd leave him. The dream disgusted him, absolutely repelled him, & he thought himself a demented beast for having it in the first place. He'd often been called a beast in battle, but never had he thought of it in such a way. He found that he no longer took pride in it.

For all his stature & power, he could be quite the coward when he was truly afraid. He'd known this since he was a boy. That'd been part of why he initially desired power so much. To exert control over his own life & rid himself of his fears. So why was it that even now that he had so much power at his fingertips & Hyrule's subjugation on the horizon, was he more afraid than ever?

---

Though, the stone didn't seem to only fill him with bloodlust & non-consensual thoughts of sex, thankfully, but also of the more consensual, yet rough nature.

As the Demon King, he lusted after his queen to an unusual degree, even for him. Just the thought of her would send his mind spiraling into thoughts of breeding her full of his heirs. The thought of children having only briefly crossed his mind before & had initially been brushed off as a "not yet" sort of thought as he never pegged Nemma as the sort to be interested in them. Until he learned that she would often teach the vaivïn (little girls) how to cook or about her village & its customs with the same patience as she would him. How gentle, yet firm when necessary she was with them.

After which, the idea would send his heart fluttering with want as he realized that maybe children were a much closer possibility than he previously thought. Though, obviously not until after this was all done with. Last thing he wanted was their prospective vehvïn (babies) in danger. Which was unusual, as Gdorf always previously desired a world where only the strong would survive & thrive, but with the possibility of children in his life, he suddenly felt overwhelmingly protective over someone who wasn't even yet a twinkle in his or his wife's eye.

Anyway, often at the end of battles, his bloodlust would be replaced with a carnality of equal severity. Which regularly lead to him sneaking off & masturbating to thoughts of his wife.

The invasive thoughts would at times be less repulsive, the scenes more consensual. Which, by Vah Gela, did he prefer that so much more.

He couldn't deny, though, if not for the harm that this form caused vayfu (his wife), he would've likely rutted her raw all that night to celebrate his success, glorify in his newfound power, as well as their next successful step towards ruling Hyrule as king & queen. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to begin speaking so lewdly through the earring as he pleasured himself the first time he did it, but it certainly seemed to catch Nemma's attention & often resulted in some... interesting conversations between them. These desires often persisted even long after removing the stone & resulted in some very long nights of repeatedly consummating their marriage in the eyes of Vah Kàvtrïna.

Truly, she must have blessed their union.

---

(Honestly, he'd never thought of heirs beforehand, having been taught how to use his black magic to basically live forever. However, the dark ritual that it involved had always left him feeling uncomfortable. He'd only ever performed a variation of it once as a young teen when sealing his pact with the dark entity that his mothers' worshiped. That poor kid... He still sees the boy's face in his nightmares. It was the most traumatizing thing that his mothers had ever had him do. Luckily, he'd only been required to kill the boy, but the things that his mothers did... They chilled him to the core... Things that they'd told him that if he wished to live forever, that he'd need to learn to be strong enough to do. The idea curdled his blood even then. But after knowing Nemma & Ayamay, he just didn't think he could do it. He had yet to tell either of the women of the memories & he was honestly terrified to, afraid that they'd be disgusted with him. He didn't know if he ever would tell them. He hates the idea of disappointing them.)

—

Anyway, I think that I'm going to make Nemma's capture a result of Kōme & Kotake's attempts to be rid of her as they don't appreciate how "soft" Ganondorf is becoming because of her. As in, they heard Rauru's attempt to persuade Nemma & then later informed him of her routines, which enables one of his Sheikah Warriors to kidnap her.

I think I'll make it Nemma's father, Masashai, who steals her away, just to really drum up the drama. He's one of Rauru's best & he even offered to do it himself as she was his spawn. Which, the use of such a word to describe one's own offspring had caused Rauru's eyes to narrow as he'd never speak of his own daughter, now 3 years old, thusly. But he was nothing if not strategic, so he'd let it slide for now.

(The toddler princess was hidden far away, outside of the Demon King's reach for now. Rauru was doing this for her.)

Masashai saw Nemma's dalliances with his king's enemy & his queen's killer to be deeply shaming & he wished to correct the girl's behavior.

At the same time, Rauru would recognize in Nemma the complete absence of a desire for power that wasn't something that she, herself, had earned, as well as the qualities of a true & wise ruler & a noble, honorable warrior. As such, he wouldn't kill her, instead choosing to seal her away.

---

To Be Continued...

And that's where this part ends. I'll continue with the rest in Part 2 because this post has gotten so long that I can't even edit it on my phone anymore. XD

---

LoZ My Fanfic Masterlist

#loz #legend of zelda #totk #tears of the kingdom #ganondorf #yandere ganondorf #fem oc #sheikah oc #ganondorf x fem!oc #long post #nsft

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