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skyloftian-nutcase · 30 days

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Breath of the Sky Ch 14 (SS meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

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Chapter 14: A Set Path

The sunlight was being hidden away by the clouds, reminding him strikingly of his days on the Surface a few months ago. It was still warm, almost too warm, but he shivered nonetheless.

Link and Zelda had been given some privacy as they’d walked away from the picnic site, instead standing on a hill overlooking a good portion of the field. In the distance there were many structures, some stone and some wood, some with people and some with strange animals.

“I didn’t think we’d be stuck doing this again,” Link finally commented, feeling Zelda’s fingers interlace with his own.

Zelda sighed solemnly, staring out at the vastness of the land alongside him. “I… didn’t either.”

There was no going home at this point. They both knew it.

“You sure this wasn’t part of your plan?” he asked, glancing at her. Given his earlier accusation, he felt like dirt even asking, but he had to at least have something to cling to.

“I wish it was,” Zelda muttered bitterly. “At least then I’d know what to do.”

Link felt… hopelessly lost. The words of assurance from the captain echoed in his mind, but what good were those assurances when Hylia’s own plan fell through?

Well. It wasn’t like Hylia had been perfect, he thought with maybe a touch too much resentment. He squeezed Zelda’s hand all the more, trying to push that out of his mind. As much as he tried to separate the two, there was no separating them. As much as Zelda insisted she was still the person he knew, that didn’t change the fact that her past was intermingled with something far beyond his comprehension.

That didn’t mean she still hadn’t used him.

What difference does that make? It was for a good reason.

A reason which had failed. But he knew that was his own doing, not Hylia’s.

Link’s gaze drifted back towards the stone pillars, towards the area in the center of the field where the other two sat. His successor and his descendant. The pair were eating quietly, one more eagerly than the other, but both seemed to occasionally remember Link and Zelda were there and would glance in their direction.

He supposed there was no avoiding them now. Not that he minded being near Zellie all that much, but goddesses above sometimes it was just too much hearing about all of it. As for his successor…

“Link, I…” Zelda started to say, her words lost in the wind for a moment. Link looked back at her, heart clenching at the torn look on her face. “I’m sorry. For all of this.”

“Don’t apologize,” he immediately replied. “This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.”

“But it all started with me,” Zelda noted quietly. “It all started with Hylia.”

Link bit his lip. He’d be a hypocrite to argue against her at this point, at least after all he’d said earlier. Goddesses he wished he’d kept silent. He tried a different tactic. “Whoever started it, I’m the one who—”

“Oh, just stop,” Zelda cut in tiredly, releasing his hand and hugging herself. “Please, just—I just—”

“I just wish it wasn’t like this,” Link finished for her, slowly wrapping his arms around her and letting her melt into the reassuring embrace.

They were in the future. The future. They were beholding the fruits of their efforts. Why couldn’t this just be a happy occasion? At least for Zelda – for Link it would’ve been beyond his comprehension, really, overwhelming and amazing and wild and wonderful, but… anything would’ve been better than this sinking realization.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

Zelda’s words, mixed with tears and choking on relief and joy, echoed in his mind. They’d thought it was over.

“What are we going to do?” he asked her.

Zelda shuddered in his hold, burying her face in his chest. “I don’t know. They… they don’t even know if the Triforce still exists.”

Link blanched, pulling away. “What? That was the entire crux of our plan!”

“I know,” Zelda cried. “I know! I don’t understand how—what—they said something about beasts, about those guardian things and the sword—”

“Fi? How’s Fi going to fix this?” Link asked. “Can she—is she even awake? Can she talk?”

He didn’t think she could, honestly – not based on her reaction when he’d held her at the festival. She’d sung, yes, but he should’ve heard her voice. Fi had said she’d go into an eternal slumber for the sole purpose of keeping Demise sealed away.

Maybe that was where they could start, then. Maybe something had happened to Fi.

“We need to talk to them,” Link said firmly, looking back at the pair again. His resolve faltered at the thought of speaking to his successor, as he didn’t really even deserve to, but Zelda’s tears motivated him well enough. If his beloved was floundering, he’d find a solution, because he would never leave her in such a helpless state.

Link’s resolve faded the closer they got to the pair, but it was too late by then. Zellie and the new Hero noticed their approach, watching them. As Link’s steps faltered from shame over his failure, Zelda took the lead, guiding him forward with a gentle hand. When the pair sat across from the other two, the Hero carefully pushed food towards Link.

Everyone stared at each other awkwardly.

“So,” Zelda said, finally taking the lead. “You mentioned guardians and divine beasts would help you fight De—Calamity Ganon. And then… you two would fight him? Right?”

Zellie looked at her Hero and then back at Zelda before nodding.

Link opened his mouth to ask about Fi and then found his voice not cooperating. He looked down, hands balling up his tunic and releasing it in anxious movements.

“And you need help with your powers,” Zelda continued.

The princess visibly wilted, looking down.

Link blinked. “What powers?”

Zellie and the new Hero’s eyes immediately went to him, widened as if he’d spoken some kind of heresy.

“I think she’s supposed to have the magic to seal him away,” Zelda answered hesitantly. “That’s what I’ve gathered, at least?”

The pair switched their horrified gazes to Zelda now. Well… at least Link wasn’t melting under their stares anymore. But why the faces?

“You—you think?” Zellie repeated. “But I—my prayers—”

“Look,” Zelda interrupted. “Let’s get this straight. Whatever prayers you’re saying, or anyone is saying—I’m not hearing them. I’m not—I don’t have that kind of power, to read people’s minds and stuff. And—and whoever you’re praying to, you’re doing it in this era, you know? I’m—we’re from the past.”

“W-well, yes,” Zellie acknowledged a little uncomfortably. But it seemed curiosity got the better of her, her eyes shining. “But—how—what is it like, where you are? Can you sense—I mean, you got here somehow, and—”

“I got here because of Link,” Zelda interrupted before hastily adding, “B-but obviously we were destined to be here, too. I mean—what else are the odds that we learn of the demon king’s survival just as you’re preparing for him? But I—this wasn’t my planning. I don’t know what’s happening. We’re trying to piece it together.”

Link’s gaze drifted towards the Master Sword, and he found himself making eye contact with the Hero wielding it. He quickly looked back at Zellie, who seemed simultaneously worried and fascinated.

“All my life, I’ve… I’ve had to try and teach myself this power,” Zellie said softly, her expression growing despairing, frustrated, before she looked hopefully at Zelda. “If you can… if Your Grace would be so kind as to help me… I…”

“I already promised you I would,” Zelda assured her with a smile. “Knight’s honor.”

Zellie blinked. “Knight’s… honor?”

“Oh. Sorry. Expression,” Zelda chuckled nervously, rubbing her hands together.

“Zelda’s a knight,” Link immediately said. “Not a goddess.”

Well. She was his goddess, but that was beside the point. The point was he knew how much this Your Grace nonsense was bothering her. He’d seen her tolerate it fine with Impa, but that was during her rediscovery of her past. She’d been trying to reconcile it since then, and Farore knew this wasn’t helping.

Zelda sighed at the bemused expressions they were receiving. “I… I am the goddess Hylia reborn. But I… look. I’m just… I was born a human like everyone else. I can barely remember my life as Hylia. I…”

“Why?” the princess asked before catching herself.

Zelda quickly waved off her apology that she was about to splutter. “Because I—Hylia, I mean—was killed. I—Hylia sacrificed herself to seal the calamity away until I could come back to defeat him with Link.”

Here she paused, looking at Link, eyes alight with love, face glowing with pride. Despite his own guilt and shame, Link couldn’t help melting a little at the gaze, smiling at her in return.

“Fascinating,” Zellie whispered.

Zelda and Link lost the girl’s wonder in their own attention to each other before his beloved finally smiled back at the other two. “If we’re going to figure out how to stop the demon king, we’ll need to see everything involved in this plan of yours. And as for your powers… my memories were awakened at the sacred springs. Maybe we could start there?”

It was interesting watching the princess’ reactions to Zelda’s words. She was delighted at first, and ashamed at the end. Clearly, her powers were a point of contention for her.

Link could sympathize. Goddess… he hoped she didn’t feel as he did, but he had a sinking suspicion that was indeed the case. How could she possibly feel such a way? It wasn’t as if her lack of abilities had caused harm yet, right? It couldn’t be any more catastrophic than his own failures – despite the obvious one, he’d also nearly let Zelda die at the hands of Ghirahim. Were it not for Impa in the Earth Temple, all would have been lost due to Link’s ineptitude.

And in the end, what difference did it make?

Link shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Stop. This isn’t helping.

He looked ahead again and saw the knight staring at him. Abruptly, he felt his cheeks flush and he looked down at his uneaten food. He hesitantly pushed it back towards the knight.

The pair stared at each other again before their gaze drifted to the plate. The knight hesitantly took the food back, eating it.

“Well, if you want to see guardians, I can show you some at the castle,” Zellie said eagerly, rising to her feet. “But the divine beasts reside in their champions’ domains. I can arrange for all of us to travel across Hyrule! It will—we can stop at the springs as well, but—you’ll see all that we have built, all we have prepared for the coming calamity.”

Link and Zelda looked at each other, surprised, before looking back at the princess. “There’s… more to Hyrule?”

Zellie practically glowed with pride. “Why yes, of course! Come, we must hurry, I’ll prepare everything!”

Well… at least they had a plan. Link rose at the same time as the knight, and the two nearly bumped shoulders, making Link stumbled towards Zelda. He was pretty certain he’d fumbled enough conversations today, so perhaps he’d save asking about Fi for later. But as the four walked, it was immediately apparent he was stuck lingering with his successor while Zellie babbled excitedly in the front of the group, nearly holding Zelda hostage with her conversation. Link found that he couldn’t help but stare at the blade, aching for its warmth, for Fi’s voice to echo in his mind and heart.

He felt so incredibly alone seeing her on someone else’s back.

Zelda stopped abruptly. “Oh! I almost forgot. We have to have nicknames, or this is going to get way too confusing. We have a few already – Dove, you’ll go by Cloud, and he’ll go by Champion. Now we just need to figure out me and the princess.”

Cloud? Link tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at his wife, curious where that nickname had come from. He’d accept it, of course… did this have to do with the cloud barrier? Skyloft? Or was it a joke based on that story at the festival?

He felt a smile pull at his lips. As much as he’d shot down the ideas the princess had brought up about his existence, it was beginning to grow on him. He could at least garner some entertainment from the absolute ignorance surrounding his identity. Besides, he’d promised himself he’d buy into it the next time someone brought it up. It was too funny not to.

Helpfully, he added, “The princess said she’s okay with going by Zellie.”

The knight, Champion, stared at the princess a moment, and though his face was placid as ever, Link could sense some kind of underlying question hidden in it.

“I guess that just leaves me,” Zelda muttered thoughtfully.

“Your Grace… wants a nickname?” Zellie questioned.

“Of course I do!” Zelda answered sincerely. “I mean… we’re going to be friends! I don’t want you addressing me like some distant deity and the like. I may be the spirit maiden, but… I want us to be friends. This isn’t… this isn’t my…”

Zelda faltered, stumbling on words and thoughts, and Link watched her reluctantly. He wasn’t exactly eager to back her up in this instance – she’d spent their entire venture discovering her identity as someone else, and she had been struggling to retain her own self as Zelda since then. He wasn’t going to encourage her taking on a new persona, even if it was just a nickname.

“We’ll figure it out,” he finally cut in quietly just to move the conversation away from it.

Zelda sighed, shrugging, and the princess continued to lead them back to the castle. Link kept up this time, though, so as to avoid looking at Fi any longer. It seemed Champion always remained two steps behind his princess, anyway.

Noticing how the Champion lagged behind, Zelda smiled welcomingly and fell back so she could be in step with him, leaving Zellie and Link in the front. As Link looked around, he found other things to focus on. Like how distinctly open and alive this place felt while simultaneously… lacking something. The more he stared at the world around him, the strangely more apparent it became, and he wasn’t sure why he’d only just noticed it now, or what it meant.

This land of Hyrule was beautiful and vast, stunning beyond all comprehension. But the Surface that Link knew was brimming with something else in the air, the very fabric of the life woven through the land was teeming with magic and energy. Here, it simply… wasn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. It felt like something had been lost while so much had been gained, and it suddenly made him pause. Perhaps this was what was lost when there was no trace of the Triforce, no guidance from Fi, with magic steadily draining from this land.

Link felt all the lonelier for it.

“Hero? Um… C-Cloud?”

Cloud? Oh, yes. That was him. Link looked somewhat reluctantly at the princess, waiting for her to continue. They’d talked so easily earlier, but he’d left that conversation rather abruptly. He hoped he hadn’t seemed too rude. Not that his conversation with Zelda had gone any better, though at least…

Wait. Wait. Had those two… had they been there? If that captain had heard his argument…

Oh goddess.

Despite his own feelings on the matter, the princess’ eyes showed only pity. That solidified his dreaded suspicion, though it simultaneously confused him – given how horribly he’d talked to Zelda, he’d expect disgust or disdain, not whatever it was Zellie was currently conveying.

Despite seeming to be practically overflowing with words to say, the princess faltered in her approach. Instead, she looked down at her clasped hands, wringing them nervously. Link wished he could say something instead, wished that he could maybe figure out if she truly did feel like she was failing because of whatever issue she was having with her powers, but… he could hardly hold on to any kind of assurances for himself; there was little way he could find a way to comfort her.

But Link hated to see her like this. He hated to see anyone he cared about hurting. And by the goddesses, he could see Zelda in every feature of this girl, in her blonde hair, in her intelligent eyes, in her love and pride in her people.

And he could see himself. He could see his sensitivity in her, he could see how the responsibility on her shoulders was crushing her just as his journey had crushed him.

Instinctively, Link reached out, letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Zellie jumped a little, startled, and looked back at him as he smiled at her. Perhaps he didn’t have the words to cheer her up at the moment, but he could at least offer support in other ways.

Zellie let out a soft sigh and smiled. “I can’t wait for you to see Hyrule.”

The words settled in Link’s heart, and he smiled in return. Despite his catastrophic failure, this land had not only survived but grown far beyond his ability to even fathom. And that… that had to mean something, didn’t it? If time and time again Demise had tried to destroy the land, and it had still somehow managed to turn into this, then…

Then maybe it wasn’t such a failure, after all.

XXX

The beauty of the castle gardens was terrifyingly diminished with the howls of anguish and anger coming from the royal horticulturalist as Mipha awkwardly sidled away from the newly tainted silent princess flower bed. She had escorted the Hero of Myth to the others before excusing herself, as she was not at all capable or important enough to be near a goddess, and had sought peace near the fountains in the castle grounds. Given the drama unfolding with other royal attendants trying to calm the woman, Mipha decided it was best to patrol the area.

Seeing Hyrule Castle was always an incredible sight, but the longer she lingered here, the more she ached for home. She missed her baby brother Sidon, she missed her father, she missed the flowing rivers and waterfalls, the diving places and beautiful scenery and mountains. Zora’s Domain was a sprawling city in its own right, but it somehow was far more homely than Castle Town, and it was less stifling than the royal halls. Perhaps it was the open architecture of her home, or perhaps it was the looming responsibility that hung heavily in the air here, a constant reminder of an evil that was coming.

It was no wonder Link had grown to be so quiet and stressed. Mipha would too if she were constantly living here.

The Zora princess leaned against a stone wall, hiding in the shade so she could enjoy the cool a little bit. She would be returning to the Domain tomorrow with her entourage, which was a relief. She would miss Link, but… well… duty came first. For all of them.

Her heart a little heavier, she tried to cheer herself up by finding her guards and attendants, when she instead nearly walked into the path of the goddess Hylia herself, and Mipha bit back a startled yelp as she dove for the nearest bush to hide in. She landed highly unceremoniously, feet in the air as she was caught in branches, hissing as twigs rubbed against her scales, though thankfully they could not cut through them. Mipha wiggled helplessly, at least tucking her feet in as best she could, before she heard gravel crunch and footsteps stop in front of her newfound prison.

When silence prevailed, Mipha turned her gaze as best she could, catching sight of familiar boots. She hesitantly whispered, “L-Link?”

Hands rested around her waist, making her heart speed up far more than it really should have (and oh why did that have to be the case, when they used to be able to laugh and play and push each other and fight as children and never was it so strange or awkward or different), and she was gently lifted out of the bush and placed on the ground. Link’s hold stayed on her as he stared at her, face calm but eyes soft, one cheek sucked in like he was trying desperately not to laugh. Mipha’s eyes looked frantically around them, and she was relieved to see that the rest of the party must have moved forward without him.

“O-oh, I’m—that was so incredibly—I’m very sorry, Link,” Mipha stammered, growing ever more frantic the longer the two of them stood so close to each other. Link’s hands slid off her waist at that, and he took a step back. Mipha cleared her throat and also mirrored the move, giving both of them more breathing room. “W-well. I. Yes. Thank you.”

Link watched her for a while longer, all earlier frazzled energy long gone. He was back to the stoic knight he always seemed to be, or at least most of the time. His eyes caught sight of something, and he reached forward to pluck a leaf out of her jewelry on her head.

Mipha felt herself blush in embarrassment at the reminder of her silly maneuver and even sillier predicament, and she ran her fingers across all her jewelry to ensure she was presentable. Trying to push the matter aside, she asked, “D-did… did everything go well with the goddess?”

Her friend nodded.

“Well, that’s good,” Mipha said with a smile. Then she shifted a little, heart growing heavy once more. “Link, I… I’m going to be leaving tomorrow. I… it was truly wonderful to see you again. I hope, perhaps, we can see each other again soon.”

Another nod was the acknowledgement. Mipha bit back a sigh. She understood, truly. But… well…

There was a way for him to ease up a little. But he had to agree to it.

“I was wondering… before I left… if—if, well…” oh goodness, this shouldn’t be so hard to ask! They used to swim together all the time! “I was going to go for a swim in the moat tonight. Would… would you like to join me?”

Link watched her a moment, and Mipha felt like she could melt into a puddle as he deliberated it. But then he nodded again, and her heart fluttered as a genuine smile pulled at her lips. She gave him a place where they could meet up, and he nodded, continuing along the path where the others had gone.

XXX

To say that he felt sure of anything in his life anymore was little more than a joke. Ever since his wife’s death and the prophecy, King Rhoam had felt like his life had spiraled entirely out of control. He had been an outsider to the royals, marrying into the family, purely there for support of his wife as she ruled the kingdom and served as a religious symbol and leader to their people. Yet her untimely death left him in charge, a man who had not been raised for such a rule, a man who had to do everything in his power to be the steady leader the people looked up to him to be, and to somehow raise his daughter to be just as wise and powerful as her mother.

He was failing, of course. As was Zelda. But Rhoam had continued to persevere, and if pushing his daughter to the breaking point was the way to protect her and help her grow, he’d be the subject of her ire. Despite it all, she had to prevail, even if he was failing.

But by the ancient goddesses, he had never in his life felt so utterly useless and lost. The franticness and demands that Her Grace Hylia had spouted during their conversation rang in his mind like a bell. Words of a mystical Triforce, something that was only remembered through symbolism and threadbare stories, made him feel far more incapable than he thought possible. How could he have failed Hyrule so? The prophecy had spoken of the solution to the Calamity being found under the ground, and the ancient Sheikah tech had been discovered buried in the earth. It had seemed heaven-sent solution, alongside the appearance of the Hero. Rhoam had just needed to get Zelda ready and it would have been fine. But what of the Triforce, then? The goddess seemed downright frantic at his lack of knowledge on the matter, and though she had promised to help Zelda, giving him hope, he still felt like he’d failed catastrophically.

He had to figure this out. A trip to the royal library was in order. To his surprise, the king found his daughter there as well. “Zelda?”

His dearest yelped as she whirled around. “Father! I was just doing some research and preparation. Her Grace, the goddess Hylia, and her Sacred Hero will be accompanying me as I show them the Divine Beasts and—”

The Divine Beasts?! What did that have to do with her training? Feeling his cheeks grow hot, the king interrupted, “You should be focusing on your duty, Zelda, not that of the Champions. Do not waste such prestigious guests’ time. I prayed to Her Grace for your sake.”

Zelda stiffened. “Y-yes, I—I know, Father, I just—they wanted to see them too.”

Oh. Well, then. The king found himself incapable of backtracking after snapping at her, and he felt all the worse for it. “When will you leave?”

“The sooner the better,” his daughter answered, regaining some of her excitement, though it was far more muted. Rhoam truly prayed that Hylia could help his child – the sooner she could discover her powers, the sooner she could be safe, the kingdom could be safe, and maybe… maybe he could attempt to rebuild his relationship with her. “I was thinking tomorrow, perhaps? But I wanted to plan the trip a little first.”

Rhoam agreed that the sooner his daughter could embark on her training the better, but he also felt his heart beat a little faster at the thought of such a quick departure. It wasn’t just his daughter with her appointed knight, a pair who could travel fairly indiscriminately and not attract too much attention outside of towns and villages. The two were safe together. But to include the goddess and her Hero… it felt nearly inappropriate to rush such a journey with them involved. Perhaps he should get the captain of the royal guard and arrange for some kind of escort?

The king left his daughter in peace to prepare, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked there was no one there. Filling with anxious energy, he set out to summon the captain and then he could return to his own studies. Perhaps he should save researching about the Triforce for tomorrow… but no. He had to focus on his own duties as much as he pushed Zelda to focus on hers.

The captain of the royal guard came promptly when called for, and he knelt immediately upon entering the sanctum.

“Rise,” Rhoam ordered. “My daughter will be setting out with her knight tomorrow, and Her Grace, the Goddess Hylia, will be accompanying them alongside the Hero of Myth. I want to ensure their security is of paramount importance.”

Captain Abel watched the king a moment, stoic demeanor the spitting image of his son. The boy had come from a fine lineage of knights, and his father was no different. The captain was reliable, and Rhoam waited patiently as the man thought through the process.

“Your Majesty,” he started. “With all due respect, Princess Zelda and Her Grace Hylia are protected by the best Hylian knight in the land and the Hero of Myth and Legend, a warrior created by the goddess for the sole purpose of defeating Ganon. It would be a misuse of resources to send the royal guard, or even a battalion of knights, to go with them. We must stay here and protect you and the royal scientists, as well as their important work on the guardians.”

Ah, and this was where father differed from son. Link was a silent knight, obeying every command given to him. While his father’s loyalty was unquestionable, the man did what he believed was best for Hyrule, and though he would also inevitably follow any command ordered of him, he might offer a rebuttal first. Rhoam appreciated it, as his advice was usually sound.

Such as now. But the king couldn’t help but worry. “Surely we can afford to send at least a few knights, Captain.”

“I will do as Your Majesty commands if you wish it so,” the captain answered with a bow. “Where will they be going?”

“They will be visiting the Divine Beasts, as well as the sacred springs,” Rhoam replied.

Captain Abel remained quiet a moment, considering, and then suggested, “Perhaps we could request the Champions to accompany them? I can think of no finer protection.”

Ah, yes, of course! Although Rhoam had little authority to command certain Champions to act as guards for his daughter, they would be obliged to accompany Hylia, particularly if going to their own domains. Rhoam smiled at the captain. “That is a perfect idea, Captain. Please, summon the Champions to the sanctum. I will make my request to them.”

The royal knight bowed deeply before exiting the sanctum, leaving Rhoam to his thoughts. With the added protection of the Champions, the goddess would be both safe and honored properly. Perhaps it would help his daughter focus a little better too, as she often lost her way when left in charge of an expedition. Nevertheless, Zelda was the commander of the Champions, and it was good for her to travel a bit more with them anyway. Rhoam prayed it was enough. He would research tirelessly on other ways to help, however minimal it might be.

It would be enough. It had to be.

XXX

The sun hung heavily on the horizon as Link and Zelda sat side by side on stone that helped support the highest tower in the castle. After the fairly awkward picnic lunch, the group had gone their separate ways, Champion disappearing entirely upon reentering the castle grounds while Zellie eagerly said she’d plan out their trip and vanished around a corner. Link and Zelda had remained quiet for most of the afternoon, piecing together their resolve while still drawing strength from each other. They had silently grown tired of the confinement of the stone walls and climbed to the highest point of the castle. The air was a touch chillier here, though not nearly clear and relieving enough, but it was still better than being trapped inside.

And Zelda would be lying if she said it wasn’t beautiful.

The scale of the castle was all the more apparent up here, rivaling Skyloft in size, and Castle Town was nearly as large. Beyond the large protective walls of the town was the sprawling green beauty of greater Hyrule, and settlements speckled the area, promising of more to see and more to explore. Zelda could hardly believe it.

Link’s fingers settled over hers as he shifted his hand closer. Zelda glanced over at him, seeing the sunlight sparkle in his eyes as he gazed out in wonder.

This felt like all the times they’d sit together at the edge of Skyloft, having played themselves into exhaustion and silence. Link had always been a quiet one, and Zelda had never had an issue with it, sometimes enjoying the tenderness such silence could bring. She especially appreciated it on days that Groose was particularly loud and annoying.

But looking at her beloved husband right now reminded her of their earlier fight, of his words and the princess’ fears and the king’s request and her own anxieties. She again found herself wondering how she was going to juggle all this, how she could help the princess fight Demise, how they could even defeat him this time. At least with a trip to look at these divine beast things, there was a plan in place. Zelda could work with a plan.

Besides… maybe the springs could hold something for her as well. Maybe… maybe in the past… when she’d been Hylia… surely she’d seen this coming, right?

Right?

Zelda didn’t know what to do. She had no guide. She missed Impa so much it hurt.

At least I have Link with me this time, she thought, though there was a touch of bitterness to it. Of course he was with her this time – it wasn’t like he could escape this wretched fate, either. But honestly… she couldn’t imagine dealing with this with anyone else. As much as she wished Impa was here, she was forever grateful that Link was. If only both of them could accompany her. If only things could make sense.

But never mind that. There was a whole new world to explore. The Surface had been amazingly new and beautiful, and her restored memories had not lessened that. She couldn’t wait to see what the Surface had become now.

She tried to focus on that, tried to reorient her mind to recognizing that this wasn’t just a terrifying preparation for the war to begin anew. It was an adventure, and she would make sure it ended well.

But wait. Someone else had been on their adventure.

Zelda found herself thinking of her own people, of her friends and her father and the other settlers. She hoped and prayed they were alright.

And that they wouldn’t get near the Gate. Surely… surely they wouldn’t. There was no way they could. Groose was injured (Golden Three, she hoped he was doing okay), and no one else dared enter the Sealed Temple.

She hoped the guards she asked for would keep the place safe.

Zelda leaned over, letting her head rest on Link’s shoulder, and her husband settled his head atop hers. Tomorrow was going to be the start of something entirely new, and she was glad they would face it together.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Link turned his head to nuzzle into her hair a little more, and his arm moved to wrap around her. “I love you too.”

XXX

Hyrule Castle hummed with anticipation as the last rays of sunlight seeped out of the sky. Champions genuflected to the king, spoke with their guards and servants, and prepared themselves for the honor of accompanying a deity. The princess of Hyrule sprawled out on her bed, maps and books all over the covers, though they did little benefit as the girl’s head slowly plopped directly on to a book about the history of the Temple of Time, soft snores escaping her. The royal guards protecting the goddess’ quarters grew anxious as no goddess appeared, while two teenagers snuggled high up above the castle, enjoying the clear night sky. The captain of the guard prayed quietly in his quarters, dinner forgotten, as he thought about the trip the next day. The king moved restlessly through the royal library as he tried to find any clues of the Triforce.

Meanwhile, the princess’ appointed knight snuck around the castle walls, looking around the docks before finding a suitable place to strip off his shirt as the Zora princess waved at him.

The water was cold, and Link felt himself involuntarily gasp as he dipped his bare feet into it. Grabbing hold of his resolve, he leapt into the water, knowing the best way to adjust to the temperature was to just take the plunge. He let it invigorate him, startling all the worries of the day out of his mind as he just focused on swimming. Somehow, just floating in the water helped carry his worries away. He always enjoyed it.

Mipha giggled, catching his attention, and he swam over to her, smiling. They hadn’t done this in what felt like years—maybe it actually had been that long. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until just now.

“Oh Link,” Mipha said happily. “I’m so glad you could join me!”

Link’s smile grew, and the princess took that as a cue to continue.

“King Rhoam asked for me,” she noted, catching his attention. “Alongside all the other Champions. He asked us to accompany you and the princess as she took the goddess Hylia around Hyrule. I could hardly say no to such a request, but—oh, Link, how can I even get near such a being? Surely I’m not worthy of that. Do you think she’ll go in a carriage or something? At least that way she’ll never see me.”

Link stared at her a moment, letting the words flow through him like the water. The king wished the Champions to go with them? That wasn’t unreasonable, but it certainly changed things a little. Mostly for the better, honestly.

Except for Revali. Ugh. Great.

But having Mipha around would be nice. And Princess Zelda would appreciate Chief Urbosa’s company. Not to mention Daruk’s company would be nice. Though… Link wasn’t sure how Hylia or her Hero would take it.

But Mipha’s concerns registered in his mind, and he shook his head. In the solitude of the castle waters, he didn’t have to hide himself, though the paranoia persisted despite being with his friend. He pushed himself to speak freely. “She’s… not what I expected. I don’t think she’ll dislike you, Mipha.”

“Perhaps,” his friend agreed uncertainly, eyes looking at the moonlight dancing on the water.

“Nobody could dislike you,” Link reassured her, swimming a little closer and sinking into the water so he ended up in her line of sight. Mipha giggled at him as the only part of him that was visible above water was from his nose to the top of his head. She dove abruptly, and Link followed suit, the pair smiling at each other as they swam in circles. It almost felt like they were kids again, playing in Zora’s Domain while Link’s father was assigned there. It almost made him forget everything that was happening.

Almost.

Though, now that he had stepped away from the others, now that he was allowed to just have some simple fun and be with a friend, his mind felt much clearer. The usual immense weight on his shoulders felt a little less heavy, even just momentarily. While Hylia herself was still quite the mystery, her Hero was less so. And while Link still felt a little intimidated approaching him or Her Grace, he could at least draw courage from the fact that neither of them hated him.

He hoped the trip would be fruitful for Zelda. He truly did. The poor princess deserved it.

But what else would this trip bring? What could Link possibly contribute to it? Nothing, he supposed, except for his protection, as always. He supposed that was enough.

As Link and Mipha breached the water’s surface, he glanced back at the castle, wondering what this journey would bring. The playful moment was gone, Mipha stilled beside him, and then she said quietly, “The Calamity draws ever nearer… but Link… we have so much going for us. It must all end well, right?”

I don’t know. He truly didn’t. But… he nodded nonetheless. Because Mipha didn’t need to worry, and honestly, Link would do everything in his power to ensure that Calamity Ganon would be defeated. That had always been enough.

“I pray it will,” Mipha continued, before smiling gently at him. “I will strive to improve my fighting abilities in the meantime. I hope Her Grace and the Hero enjoy seeing the Domain—oh! Oh, I must send word to my father! We can’t be unprepared over such a visit!”

And just like that, his friend was in a frenzy, fretting about divine visitors and speaking about how Zora’s Domain should be ready. Link followed her back to the shore, somewhat amused—he was pretty certain there was nothing she could do to alert her father at the moment, but he was no stranger to worrying over everything and nothing in the middle of the night—and the pair snuck back into the castle. Link tried to hide his shivers as he crept along, listening to water drip off them both on the cobblestone.

“Oh, you’re freezing!” Mipha fretted, immediately grabbing him and holding him close. Link felt his heart skip a beat and by the goddesses he wished he didn’t—they’d done this as children; all the Zora had huddled together for warmth when exiting frigid waters. As children they weren’t quite adept and regulating their temperature, and they knew that Link himself was not capable. But it felt—now it was—

Link swallowed, feeling his cheeks warm up far faster than the rest of him, and Mipha froze. The two locked eyes for a moment, and the Zora princess immediately spluttered and stumbled back so quickly she nearly fell into yet another plant. Link reached out automatically, catching her by the wrist, and she hastily said, “I m-must go, I’m so very sorry, Link, good night!”

The young knight watched his friend practically flee indoors, and he felt… he didn’t know. Guilty? Sad? Embarrassed? All three?

He sighed as his gaze drifted upward along the castle. The worries from a moment ago bled out of him easily as anxieties over tomorrow filled the void. He didn’t think he would be sleeping much tonight. But the focus was back on Princess Zelda, where it belonged. He was there to fulfill a duty as well, but it didn’t require attention or scrutiny. He could guard and watch. He could do that.

He found himself wondering if the Hero of Legend would do that as well. He found himself wondering what he was even supposed to do with that Hero.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore, honestly. And while he no longer held any worry that his predecessor hated him, he certainly had little idea of how to help him. Assuming he even needed help.

It was all just… confusing. If this trip was fruitful in any way, he hoped it would at least make things less confusing.

I suppose I’ll find out, he thought as he followed Mipha’s wet footprints inside the castle, slipping back into the façade of the perfect soldier.

#writing #breath of the wild #skyward sword #legend of zelda #breath of the wild link #botw link #breath of the wild zelda #botw zelda #skyward sword link #ss link #skyward sword zelda #ss zelda #zelink #miphlink #mipha and link are anxious little beans in love #and too dumb to figure it out #everyone needs an adult and a hug #even the adults lol #Abel deserves a pay raise #Rhoam needs some counseling on how to be a good dad #he's got the right spirit but DUDE #the royal guards assigned to protect Hylia and the Mythical Hero when they realize they're missing again: YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME #nobody knows the lovebirds are sitting on the top of the castle #Abel is gonna get a frantic messenger again and sigh heavily #Zellie is planning a great National Geographic Tour of Hyrule and is super excited about it #WHO'S READY FOR A ROAD TRIP #breath of the sky #skye time travels through the queue

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kaluwa-del-conte · 2 years

Video

youtube

We Toured Rhett and Link's Wildly Efficient Studio

Colin and Samir

#Colin and Samir #Rhett and Link #was a good watch :D #studio tour #Good Mythical Morning #GMM #randl

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temporarykiss · 2 years

Photo

may mood board <3

media suggestions / what i read & watched:

- The Secret History by Donna Tartt (my current read! quickly becoming one of my favorite reads this year and ever)

- Everything Everywhere All At Once dir. by Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert (possibly the greatest movie i have ever seen or will ever see)

- The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood (fun and campy sweetness for all you Reylo lovers out there)

- the Phoebe Bridgers Punisher reunion tour !! :)

- Pushing Daisies on HBO Max (featuring the sweetest young Lee Pace)

- Russian Doll season 2 on Netflix !!

- Dr. Strange: Multiverse of Madness (methinks the writers did Wanda’s storyline dirty but Elizabeth Olsen ate up the big screen as per usual)

- Good Mythical Morning <3 (my daily comfort watch...if you don’t interact with GMM content this is your sign to check them out)

this month’s board also includes my beverage addictions: topo, glass bottle coke, and liquid death :’)

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velvetures · 9 months

Text

Honorifics

A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.

When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.

Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.

The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.

The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.

Ghost however… didn’t like it.

Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.

He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.

The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.

He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.

Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.

With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.

It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.

The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.

Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.

A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.

Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.

“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.

It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.

“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”

Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.

“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.

Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.

When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.

“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.

You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.

“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.

“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.

His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.

He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.

The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.

“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.

“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”

Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.

You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.

But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.

Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.

“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.

“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.

“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.

“Yes, sir.”

His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.

“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.

“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.

“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.

“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.

“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.

“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.

“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”

Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.

Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.

“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”

You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.

“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”

You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”

His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”

“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”

Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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delfiore · 5 months

Text

—MONTAUK.

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

synopsis: you remember how it used to be whilst dealing with how it is now.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: alexia baby come home the kids miss you 🥲 this was the clairo - bags fic i promised months ago but now the premise feels completely different and i've changed the title also lol. a lot happens to one's state of mind in 3 months.

After.

Under normal circumstances—as much as normal was nowadays—the silence in the apartment would feel like a blanket of comfort. It meant you were having a rest from your hectic days training and playing matches, it meant you could finally relax with the love of your life; it meant peace.

Now, the silence was deadly. It was sucking up the life in every room in this apartment, and it was draining the life out of you too.

The door clicked, and you shifted in your spot on the couch, quickly shutting off your phone on which you had bullet points typed out in the Notes app—bullet points of things you wanted—needed—to say, to lessen this inevitable pain. You cracked a smile when you heard tiny feet pattering on the floor, just as the little Pomeranian came to greet you with loving licks.

Nala was oblivious to the cracks that had been forming in her home, that have been left unamended for too long with the thinking that they would go away with time. You dreaded thinking of the day when the little pup came home from a walk and you weren’t there anymore. Would she miss you? How long until she starts to forget you?

“I got us dinner.”

“Cool,” you said, breathing in deeply. “You wanna eat now, or . . . ?”

“Sure.”

You helped her unpack the food without another word, the only sound heard was the clanking of plates as you pulled them out of the cupboard and set them on the kitchen island.

Alexia didn’t say anything either, just gingerly put the food on the plates. You felt her stiffen slightly as you walked towards her and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder.

She offered you a small smile—a forced smile—and brought the food to the table.

You cursed yourself and wished you hadn’t done it.

Before.

“And that concludes the tour of our facilities. Any questions?”

“No, I’m good.” You were way too excited to think about anything else other than the Barcelona crest on your chest.

“Great. Then, how about we go meet your future teammates? Some of them should be in the weight room.”

Patri greeted you initially, first in Spanish, then in English once she realized you weren’t catching on. Jana and Salma followed suit with friendly handshakes and quick hugs. It left the captain to be the last. And there she was; la Reina herself.

You were surprised to find that she was rubbing her hands together, waiting for her turn, almost like she was nervous. As you came to know her, you understood that she was in fact nervous when meeting new people, a polar opposite to the confident leader she was on the pitch.

But you saw the way her hazel eyes fixed on you, and as you approached her, a lingering smile played on her lips. Your heart suddenly leaped in your chest, and your cheeks felt embarrassingly warm, which you hoped she didn’t see.

You had admired her from afar, looking up to her as a role model in the game, but now that you were seeing her up close, something stirred inside you. There was something so endearing about Alexia’s shyness where you had expected assertiveness. It made her feel more down-to-earth, more like your teammate rather than a mythical figure up on a pedestal. One look at her and you understood why people had talked so highly of her—how could they not?

Extending a hand towards her, you had made your greeting, but she pulled you in for a firm and generous hug.

And that’s how they started—the butterflies, the attraction, the yearning—and they never went away.

After.

You decided that you were going to do it after dinner. Doing it during dinner is just tacky and downright disrespectful. You’d hate to be crying into your takeout after telling your girlfriend you wanted to break up.

When you snapped out of your train of thought, you realized that it was way too quiet. Alexia was eating on the other side of the table, scrolling through her phone as she did.

“Did you see Claudia’s banger of a free kick today?” You asked, smiling slightly.

Alexia looked up briefly from her phone. “Si. Really good.”

A curt answer. You nodded, and silence ensued again.

You didn’t talk to Alexia much these days. You used to be able to talk to her about anything, even in the beginning when the both of you were still testing the waters to see where you stood. When did it become like this?

Before.

Practice was going swimmingly. You found yourself catching on quickly with the rest of your teammates. Alexia has made it her mission as captain to make you feel welcome. “Anything you need, ask me,” she would say in English. You wanted to, but every time you thought about talking to her, your hands would sweat and you needed to practice what you were going to say to her. You weren’t scared that she wasn’t going to understand you, but because you knew you’d make a fool out of yourself tripping over your words.

“Hey, Alexia,” you said after practice, “I don’t know the city that well, and—well—since you do, would you be willing to show me around?”

“Si, claro.” She answered and looked around the field. “Maybe I can ask some of the girls to come with? They might know things to do that I don’t.”

Later she would explain to you that she panicked and that she knew she would be weird about it, thinking it was a date when it really was just a little outing between teammates. You wished she had treated it like a date, though, and was slightly disappointed when she mentioned bringing your teammates. Still, you had a great time watching Mapi banter with Lucy and Mariona while Alexia played the role of the disappointing mom trying to restrain her children.

You were grinning thinking back on the day when you came home. Her bashful smile after she offered to drive you home was so unlike anything you had pictured in your head before coming to Barcelona. You loved her calm nature, something that made her such a reliable captain, but also an endearing human being.

After.

You stayed seated by the dinner table and you watched her load the dishes in the washer. The scene was void of music that she would sway her hips to or a hearty conversation about a random fact she learned from one of your teammates. Now it was just robotic, lifeless movements, and your heart squeezed at the thought of what it used to be.

The end is near.

Somewhere, somehow, you gathered the courage to speak up. “Wanna watch a movie?”

And to your surprise, she turned around and said, “Sure.”

For a second, you let yourself hope that there was still something salvageable from this ruin. Then you realized that you had been here many times before, and everything accumulated and led you here to this moment.

Before.

“Really?! You’ve never seen Mean Girls?”

Alexia shook her head and chuckled. “I didn’t watch a lot of movies, Y/N. Growing up, all I had time for was football.”

“Yeah, but . . . I mean, it’s Mean Girls. That’s just a crime,” you clicked your tongue. “We’ll have to catch you up on all the classics.”

The discussion had been prompted by the imminent movie night at one of your teammates’ places. The movie of choice was Mamma Mia!, and you had been most excited to rewatch it. You and Alexia arrived together after an outing in town, and since you did so late, you both were in charge of stocking up the snacks.

“And by that, I hope you mean . . . you and me,” Alexia stuttered, leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for you to fill your bowl with popcorn.

Your lips curved up. “Yes, I mean me and you. Just me and you.”

Your captain grinned too, like a devious little kid. “Good. Just making sure.”

“¿Qué diablos está tardando tanto? (What the hell is taking so long?)” Patri called from the living room. “¡Más te vale no estar besándote en mi cocina! (You better not be making out in my kitchen!)”

You let out a surprised laugh, as Alexia cursed under her breath, wishing silently that the girls in the living room would just shut up and stop snickering. Once the bowls in your hands were filled to the brim, you turned to her with a knowing look.

“I wouldn’t have minded, you know.”

“Mind what?”

“If we were making out,” you said before leaving Alexia in the kitchen to soak in your words.

She found a seat next to you after taking a minute to calm her racing heart so that you wouldn’t notice how crazy you drove her. She felt like a teenage girl having a silly crush, but there was nothing silly about the way you looked at her. And when you put your head on her shoulder midway through the movie, she knew she was gone. Patri saw it too across the couch apparently, and her knowing grin made Alexia want to bury herself inside a hole. While she wasn’t particularly into romcoms, she was already looking forward to watching Mean Girls with you, her fleeting heart hammering in its cage at the thought of getting you alone again.

After.

The silence was deafening. You didn’t dare to look over to Alexia to gauge her reaction. The screen continued to play the movie, blissfully unaware of an earthquake that had suddenly roared to life in the space on the couch between you and Alexia.

You swallowed. She hasn’t spoken for hours.

Then, she turned to you and said, “Okay.”

Okay.

You drew a sharp breath and nodded with finality. “Okay.”

The movie was still playing, though. It was one of your favorites, but it made you cry every time you watched it because you were so touched by the story and its main characters. It was about a man—grief-stricken with the loss of his relationship—who decides to get his memories of his girlfriend wiped, but during the process, he relives everything he shared with her and slowly rues his decision. You used to enjoy it because their story was fictional, but now it all felt like one big joke, like you were one of the characters in the movie, inching towards a certain endgame that you couldn’t escape.

You wondered if there were a different script written out for you and Alexia.

“Let’s finish the movie though, yeah?” She said, finally looking over to you.

You hadn’t expected that look on her face when you looked back at her—it was something almost like desperation.

Like it meant something to her.

You nodded. It was the least you could do after dumping her. What kindness, after the neglect she had shown you, what kindness.

Before.

Alexia was shaking when she brought the two glasses of wine out to her living room, where you sat. Nala, the ever-excited little puppy that she was, followed her like a personal little cloud.

“I heard it was going to be a sad movie, so wine it is.” She said, handing you your glasses.

“It’s a cult classic, trust me. It’s one of my favorite movies ever.”

“Well, I liked Mean Girls, so I trust you.” The truth was, she would have watched any movie with you, as long as it was with you.

You were right, it was quite sad. When she looked over midway through the movie, she could see a glossy streak running down your face. You laughed it off and wiped your tears away, embarrassed that you had cried in front of her, but Alexia thought you were the prettiest.

With feather-light touches, she reached over and brushed the tip of her fingers over your cheekbone. She knew there was no going back if she went ahead with this. She wondered if there was a script written out for you and her already, and she was just following it on its path.

Her lips brushed against yours softly, and only once she felt that you started to kiss her back was she brave enough to put her hand around your waist and pull you closer.

You were grinning so wide when she pulled away, that she thought it might have been a prank and you were somehow in on it. But you put your arms around her neck and pecked her lips again.

Whatever script it was, Alexia was sure it would be one of fairy tale endings and happily ever after, because that is what you believe when you’re in love.

a/n: the movie is eternal sunshine of the spotless mind btw. made me ugly cry.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas angst #woso imagines #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso angst

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the-floral-perspective · 3 months

Text

Creepypasta Guidebook for Beginners

My creepypasta AU! :3

Warning: will be mentions of slight trauma

Written by: Sally W.

Chapter 1- your arrival

I assume that since you’re here, you felt guided by something. A bird, a line in the sand, a fox in the forest. Something guided you here. You know that, you feel it. I’m sure you feel the odd energy around here too.

If you haven’t heard the stories before, this is our mansion. My home. A place I was taken in by my mythical father, Slenderman.

Now, as you are reading this, I know you were drawn here. For what reason I’m not sure, regardless I’m going to answer your questions before your body rejects what drew you here in the first place.

You are here for a reason.

What we do is simple. We hurt those who took advantage of the weak and vulnerable, people who were once like me and we give them strength.

We, as in Slender and I. Though I take credit for the idea.

One thing I’ve read and noticed about people was that trauma bonded people. As the ages progressed, people have gone through phases of hatred and alliances. It was complicated, yet intriguing to watch how people could connect.

This knowledge gave me an idea, I could find those wounded and scarred, take care of them and create some sort of safe heaven. Like what Slender did with me.

He approved of the idea and almost immediately we found one of the wounded; Laughing Jack. He followed with other supernatural beings.

I admit at first that we were brutal and messy, like how beginner businesses typically are though. It’s water under the bridge, really.

Regardless, why you were lured here and what to do now?

Well, once I’m done talking with you, if you agree, Jane and Kate will start training. For why you were lured here, it’s because you probably belong here.

Through the pain of your past, you got dirty and ended up here. I’m here to offer you a deal. You have the opportunity to hurt the offenders that lurk in the shadows in turn for immortality and housing.

Yes, the method is considered unlawful, but they don’t understand the pain of being at the brunt end.

So, for a home, immortality and possibly friends, would you join?

Read for yes;

Well then, at this moment we will enter the mansion. You will wait at the entry and take your shoes off.

Two girls— Kate and Jane will take hold of you from then forward. They will give you a tour and do introductions. In a week from now, there’ll be a ceremonial party of your recruitment.

No one else will know you until the ceremony except for I, Kate and Jane.

Afterwards, Slender will test you with an assignment. If you do not pass this assignment, you will be benched and trained. If you run away during the assignment, all your memories of everything will be wiped.

Be wary, Casanova. Your first weeks here will be rough, however after awhile you’ll find that you’d rather be here. With the family you will find certain acceptance that cures the lonely part of you that drew you here in the first place.

Good luck, you’ll need it.

Read for no;

Well, unfortunately you’re going to have to go now. Once you wake up you will remember nothing of this encounter or anything of yourself. You’re likely to not become much of anything in this day and age.

If you’ve already killed someone, wether it be your family or someone around you is not our business. You will likely get caught and you will end up in jail or die. Again, this is not our business and we can’t help you anymore. You had your chance and you lost it.

I can’t help you any longer past this moment. Shut your eyes.

*you are now dead.*

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yandereunsolved · 25 days

Text

You're My Cult Leader - ,, yandere Kai Anderson

tw(s): yandere themes, Kai fuckery, graphic gore, suggestive themes, Kai threatening to cross your boundaries, descriptive depictions of anxiety and panic attacks, self harm, (Kai) glorification of self harm, talks of mental hospitals & mental illness, demonization of medication & mental health (influenced by Kai), baby trapping

ꨄ︎ He found you by pure accident. He was scrolling through Reddit on r/AITA when he found your account. You were asking if breaking up with your partner after they had a mental breakdown and pushed you down the stairs made you a bad person or not. Interest sparked in his mind. If you were this insecure that you had to get validation from others when your ex was clearly in the wrong, you must be easy to manipulate. He wanted to see more of who and what you were, so he hacked your accounts. He didn't do anything more than scroll through him and store your information and passwords marked 'Serpent' on a file put on a hard drive he keeps of all his cult members. He keeps it just in case they try to betray him. They wouldn't dare go against him if they knew he had all of their skeletons locked in his closet.

ꨄ︎ He marks all of his files with the names of mythical animals. All cult members go under one large file named 'Serpent'. In his inner circle, he has another file named 'Sphinx'. As he learns more about you, he compiles an entirely separate file just for you. He names it 'Phoenix'—an immortal bird that cyclically regenerates, obtaining new life by rising from the ashes of its predecessor. He even begins referring to himself as Phoenix when around his other members. Of course you don't know him; you two haven't even had a conversation yet, but you are already part of his cult. It was just a matter of putting a few more things in place to have the perfect meeting.

ꨄ︎ What he didn't expect was to actually begin to form an attraction to you when he had his little 'excursions' with you, stalking you wherever you went. He resents this. You aren't worth his time and attention. He is the divine ruler, a being of divinity. You are just another lamb to be slaughtered within the confines of his cult. Yet he notices how wide your hips are, how good your medical history is, and how motherly you are. He stores it away in his mind. You'd be a good possible womb to store his messiah baby in. He does need the best genetics. It doesn't matter if you are afab or amab; you are having his baby.

ꨄ︎ He introduces himself to you after you had a shitty day at work. He invites you out to your favorite cafe. Huh, how did he know? He knows everything about you. Including what you do in the privacy of your bedroom when you think no one is looking. He speaks to you like an old friend or a lover. You two really seem to have a genuine connection. He's a smart guy, 135 IQ; he toured in Iraq; and he graduated with a double degree. Not to mention, when he stood up and stretched, you could see his muscular physique underneath his gray sweatshirt and joggers. Now you want to know more about him, see him more, and get the validation you crave because you have been starved by others. Just as he planned.

ꨄ︎ It's so strange that after that, the people you hated most started disappearing. It was all over the news. People started seeing you as bad luck. Some people thought you were just a serial killer who hadn't been caught yet. Others thought it was because of some twisted secret admirer of yours. They would both have reasons to think that. The bodies came up in parts. Each on the bed in their bedroom. They were cut into chunks and placed to make little hearts. First, there was nothing else. Then the killer got bolder with the weird smiley face drawn in blood. Eventually, the killer or killers had another collective sign off: 'From F.I.T.— your divine ruler.'

Not even the police would touch you. No one would. Only Kai was there for you in those trying times. He drove you deeper into his grasp. Not suffocating at first just so you wouldn't see it until it's too late—like a boa constrictor constricting around its sleeping prey.

ꨄ︎ He offered you a place to stay and promised to protect you from the evils of the world. He makes you as scared of the outside as possible. Think of all the horrors out there. Can you not see the killings all over the news? Can you not realize that the country is being flooded with dangerous people? Are you so unaware that someone could slit your throat if you so much as stepped outside the door? Kai is there to stoke your fears, like feeding an ever-growing flame by placing more wood in the pile. He makes you so paranoid that you aren't even sure if being around him is safe. He assures you being around him is the only safe place. He subtly threatens to take his protection away if you disobey him.

ꨄ︎ You don't interact with Winter. You actually aren't allowed to. Kai expressly forbids it because he's afraid his sister might make you queer. Sure, you are allowed to look at her and maybe make small talk if she is around you and Kai, but she isn't allowed alone with you—ever. Kai just can't risk it. He knows how tempting women can be, and he can't let his precious little lamb be tempted by his sister.

ꨄ︎ He begins integrating you into F.I.T. even though you are unaware. You don't exactly know what it's called, but everyone seems to treat you kindly. Not too kindly, though; Kai doesn't want your affections to be given to one of his ungrateful, pathetic followers. This is really the first touch of human interaction you have had in months, other than Kai, of course. It's like a new breath of fresh air. You may refuse to leave the house and Kai's side, but at least you have more people to talk to. It's like torture when Kai leaves you all alone. No one else is allowed around you, not that you know that. You only know that they seem to distance themselves almost purposefully, even methodically. It's like Kai is ripping your very heart out of your chest and taking it with him when he leaves.

ꨄ︎ Sometimes it's even worse when his 'friends' are around. He acts all aloof and distant with you. He calls you slut, whore, little one, and worst of all—sweetheart. Whenever he calls you sweetheart, you know you have messed up around the others. During their meetings, you are forced to sit in his lap. Most of the time, he forces you to straddle his waist. If you speak or even squeak, he'll scold you in front of everyone. You always end up having hickeys on you the day after. You always have some sort of hickey or bruise on you. He'll occasionally kiss you on the neck during these meetings. At first, you were uncomfortable. You tried to confront him about it, and he brushed you off.

"You like it, don't lie. You like all of the attention on you. You are my little slut after all."

You wanted to argue, but he had a way of making you speechless, so flustered that you became light-headed. After that, you didn't argue much on the subject.

He doesn't actually allow you to listen, either. He makes you wear these stupid ear plugs that make you feel so idiotic. You only know he scolds you because that's when he takes the earplugs out. He calls these meetings his 'private business'. You don't press him on it because he's already done so much for you. Someone out there is stalking you. Kai is keeping you safe. It's the least you can do to stay out of business; he doesn't want you in.

ꨄ︎ If you are good during these meetings, he rewards you with an outing. You have to stay by him the entire time. That is one of the unspoken rules of being with him. However, that's not really a problem for either of you. That's pretty much the only time that you are outside. He doesn't outright say it's a 'date', but that's what it is to him. You may not know it, but you two are practically married in his eyes. He just has to train you some more. You need to be entirely dependent on him—submissive, feminine, and motherly. That's all he wants. He has given you so much. He just needs to take a little from you. It isn't that big of a deal.

ꨄ︎ You first witnessed Kai's true cruelty when he stapled that poor man to death. You pinkie promised him that you would stay by his side. You pinkie promised that you wouldn't run. So you stood there and watched, and everyone took turns stapling him in the head. The blood gently dribbled down his face, almost peaceful—in complete contrast with the monstrous act being committed.

He made you kneel before him. He swiped a strip of the oozing blood off of the man's face. He stuck his finger in your mouth and made you lick it off. He asked if you were truly devoted to him as he planted the last staple in the back of the guy's neck. He asked again, his voice more alluring than any song a siren could sing.

"Are you completely and utterly devoted to me?"

You said yes. Why wouldn't you?

"Prove it."

He stood above you with the staple gun discarded on the floor. That night was a lot different than all the other times you 'proved' yourself to Kai. It was much more passionate and tender. You were unable to even move from your spot. It was like nothing else existed except you and Kai. It was addicting. You needed more of him, even more than before.

It was like that night he had cast a spell on you that stripped away any personality or ideals you had from your previous life. He had broken every part of you. You were now repurposed clay. You were made into a brand new clump for him to mold with his skilled and nimble fingers. You will be his greatest creation yet, for you are completely and utterly his—forever.

ꨄ︎ However, while molding, he's careful not to be too harsh with you. In a way, it's the gentlest and most honest part of Kai you will ever see. You see the moments when he has flashbacks to those times. You get to see when his shoulders heave due to the overwhelming anxiety he feels. You see the few tears that slip from his face. Part of him feels that you have earned this part of him. Another part wants to push those feelings so deep down into the darkness of his soul that they never have a chance of getting out.

ꨄ︎ You'll only see it in subtle ways. At night, he won't force you to snuggle with him, but he'll urge you to. He'll wrap his arms around you and gently whisper about how he'll protect you from all the bad things in this world. It's true on some level. All of this is truly for you. He just can't show his love like a normal man. One thing is for sure—he promises to never be a man like his father. He shakes when he thinks about him, his muscles tightening and his breath shortening. It makes him want to hold you in his embrace forever. To kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever know. That small and hidden part of him craves your loving touch. That part just wants to be coddled and told he's a good boy. Just telling him you're proud of him is enough for him to drag you off to the bedroom.

ꨄ︎ He makes you pinkie promise. Naturally, you have to tell him everything first—your fears, your fantasies, and how much you love him. He finally speaks a bit of his past. It's the first time you see him breakdown. The first time he has a genuine emotional response. The mask slips only for a moment, but you're hesitant. You know, sometimes he manipulates you—maybe. That's what one of the others told you before they were killed. Still, it seems real, and it feels real. You can't imagine him telling anyone else such private things. He pulls you into a hug and rocks you back and forth. He sticks his face in the crook of your neck greedily. He treats you like you'll disappear with one blink of his eyes.

"You aren't ever allowed to leave me, darling."

He's gritting his teeth, and suddenly the Kai you know all too well is back. From time to time, you can't help but wonder: How much of old Kai influenced new Kai to be so helplessly entranced by your very presence?

ꨄ︎ No part of you is hidden from him. No part of your body is left unseen or explored. There is no part of your personality that he hasn't memorized. There isn't any memory that he hasn't plucked from your head already. If you remember anything, even the most mundane, you are under strict orders to allow the words to fall from your lips—no matter what you were doing before. There are no 'boundaries', in most cases. Kai is an asshole, but he isn't that much of an asshole. If you've been a good little lamb, then there's no need to bring up painful memories. He wouldn't want his obedient servant to be plagued with fear of others in their heart. However, act bratty, and he has no qualms of making himself a new set of memories for you to gain PTSD from.

ꨄ︎ The first time his hold on you loosened a bit is something you won't ever forget. You were looking for him when you heard moaning. Meadow had gone missing earlier, and you were worried. You found her partially tied up, and your heart broke in two. Kai looked back at you with no emotion in his eyes. He simply dismissed you with a 'get out'.

You were so horrified that you quickly packed up and ran from the house. You snatched a stack of emergency bills that Kai always kept under his mattress. You slept in some shitty motel for a few nights. You planned on escaping to another state and starting anew. If you could just get a phone, you could call someone. Yet your heart was torn in two. Those tendrils of fear were wrapped so tightly around your mind that you were paralyzed with indecision. You love him, but he was cheating on you. He was supposed to protect you from the world! You forgot the most important lesson—to protect yourself from him.

You had multiple panic attacks each day while hiding in that motel. You feared stepping out of the door. You just couldn't do it. The 'what if' was too much. You knew that, rationally, no one was going to jump out and kill you. Right? Right...? RIGHT? You couldn't even open the door. Your hand reached the knob, and yet you couldn't open it. You just sank to the floor and continuously sobbed. You couldn't stop the feeling of dread and weakness.

What was he going to do when he found you? That thought had your head spinning. Your legs just gave out then and there. It was the one question that ran through your mind like a never-ending track carrying the train of your anxious thoughts.

You had to get breakfast delivered to your room. You had to wear your clothes for multiple days. You didn't have any toiletries except the ones provided by the hotel. You were too paranoid to even take a shower. You needed Kai. You still needed him. You couldn't even breathe correctly without him!

ꨄ︎ You finally broke down. It was like he knew you would. You went to that campaign of his. You were barely able to step outside, but the promise of seeing him made you more than eager to leave. Once you spotted him, all your fears seemed to melt away. Then you saw Meadow shoot him. Your heart broke again—she fucks him, and then she shoots him? Who the hell does this woman think she is?

You saw her turning the gun on herself, but you beat her to it. Another woman was screaming at the both of you. She took the gun. You just kept hitting Meadow. You don't know what came over you. All the bitter jealousy and hatred from that night just came up. You let it all out on her. Eventually, you heard a snap. That same woman was screaming at you and pointing the gun at your head. You killed Meadow. You snapped her neck. You felt good, in control. A part of you even liked it.

You didn't get to mull over it because the cops arrested that woman and led you away. You rushed up to Kai, who was on a stretcher. The emergency medical responders tried to push you away. Kai grabbed your hand and pulled you down onto him. With his other arm, he dug his nails into the side of your head. He sloppily made out with you until you were pulled away.

"It was all for you, baby. Come and ride in the ambulance with me. You've been bad—and you'll atone for your sins once I get better."

Those are the words he whispered in your ear. Your mixed emotions led you to feel so much, but how could you refuse? A moth is always drawn to a flame, just like you are always drawn to Kai. Hopefully, you won't get burned again by his lies and deceit.

ꨄ︎ Once he is home from the hospital and recovering, he chastises you. He screams, pushes things, and threatens you. He can feel actual tears filling his eyes at the fact that you tried to leave him. How dare you.

"Can't you see you worthless slut!? This has all been for you. I had to get Meadow out of the way for you and for us. Yet you run off to some shitty motel and hide there? You are pathetic."

Wait, he knew about the motel? Of course he did. He just wanted to allow you to make your own choice. Sure, he was going to drag you back to him anyway, but you coming back somewhat willingly just proves the control he has over you. It feels so good to have you twisted around his finger.

ꨄ︎ He makes you cut yourself because of this. It's a punishment that he often uses. He wants you to feel what he feels when you disobey him. Sometimes he cuts you himself. He teases the burning wounds and touches them. He kisses each one of them and licks the oozing blood leaving your veins.

He sees it as just another way for him to claim you. He feels that possessive urge inside of him cool when he sees the scars you have given yourself because of him. He enjoys cutting extra deep into your skin to hear those pained whimpers escape your sweet lips. He gets even happier when you get self-conscious about them. 'No, baby, you are so beautiful with those scars.' It's just another way to control you. You have to live off that praise from him, affirming your self-harming behaviors.

ꨄ︎ It evolves into a ritual. When he gets really pent-up, he cuts you up and drinks your blood. He tells you that's the most divine thing he's ever tasted. He kisses you and makes you taste yourself. He'll swirl your own blood around in your mouth with his tongue. He'll barely allow you to breathe. It's like it restarts his mind. He's calm after. He feels like a blank slate.

He once did it in front of his cult. You were sitting in his lap. You could feel him growing more livid and tense. He pulled out a pocket knife and gently knicked the side of your neck. He licked and kissed the blood away. He promised to give some of your blood to his inner circle if they all proved themselves to him. No, they aren't going to be allowed to touch your skin. They may drink from a vial. You are dreading the day that it becomes a normal practice within the cult.

ꨄ︎ That isn't the only punishment you'll get if you severely misbehave. He isn't against locking you in the basement and chaining you up. He'll deprive you of food and water and will only give his body to you as sustenance. Later on, he builds a metal cage in the basement. He uses it both for torture and to shove you in there if you are disobeying him. The cage is much worse than being chained to a wall. If you get chained to the wall, at least he'll let you near him. If you get caged, then some random follower of his just comes down and throws whatever shitty rations in between the bars. Most of the time the food isn't even edible—mold and other infectious diseases are tainting it. The little bit of water you get is wasted when they throw it on you.

By the time you are let out, you are malnourished and touch starved. Kai always makes sure to give the most heavenly aftercare. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear and tells you that this didn't have to happen; all you had to do was behave. He gives you a bath with rose petals, and he gets out the fancy lotions, oils, and shit that he can't even pronounce. He makes sure that you have a fresh pair of clothes and the best meal one can dine on. He even took it slow with you that night. He is passionate and loving.

It's a side of him you rarely get to see...

ꨄ︎ Sometimes you want to act bratty just to see if you can get brown-haired Kai to come out and play again. It's a treacherous game. One wrong behavior, and you may end up kneeling before him, cutting yourself up for his entertainment once again. You can just do little things to manipulate him just a tiny bit. You are his well-trained bitch that occasionally loosens their collar and nips at their owner playfully. You have learned how to manipulate from the best, after all. Most of the time, Kai understands your angle, but rarely can he be tricked into misunderstanding your true intentions.

ꨄ︎ Accidentally getting hurt can be one way to possibly soften him up. Although you do have a half chance of just being called a clumsy bitch by him. If it is someone else, accidentally or not, hurting you, not even the deities from the highest of heavens can save that person. He'll either beat them to death in the moment or plan their slow torture and subsequent death in the cage downstairs. After taking care of the filth, you may see a little bit of brown-haired Kai. He'll take care of any cuts or bruises and kiss your temple. You may or may not have paid that asshole five bucks so they could push you on the pavement and threaten you. You were scared to death that Kai would realize what you were doing, but it was more than worth it.

That's just one way that you can manipulate him into letting brown-haired Kai come out and play.

ꨄ︎ Another one is if you cook for him. If you make him a good manwich, dressed up all pretty with an apron on, he is melting inside. He has this starstruck and dopey expression on his features. It's quickly replaced by indifference, but he is elated internally. If you bake, then all bets are off for cult leader Kai. He's oddly sweet when tasting your sweets because it allows him to regress back to a state of almost childlike innocence. It reminds him of when his mom would bake things with him and teach him to bond with him. His father always thought it was making Kai soft and a sissy, but he refrained from making those comments most of the time.

When you bake those sweets, it's like a positive trigger for him. He'll take a bite and wrap you up in his arms. He'll gently pepper kisses on your face and compliment your skills. A little bit more of brown-haired Kai comes out. He almost seems shy, nervous, and unconfident. Kai doesn't even realize he is acting like this. He just feels safe, like he is home.

ꨄ︎ He puts tracking chips in all of your things after your first attempt to leave him. Anything and everything has some sort of chip in it. He secretly enjoys hand-sowing the chips into all of your clothes and undergarments. It feels so oddly intimate to him. It's just another way to claim you as his. It makes him feel all giddy inside. All the chips are waterproof and extremely durable. He has access codes to all of them and can connect to them through any device he has. If you try to escape one too many times, he will chip you on your inner thigh. That way, he can casually rub his hand over your plush thigh and press his thumb right over where he implanted the tracking chip. It's his favorite way of reminding you that you have no way out—no possible escape from his binding grasp.

ꨄ︎ It doesn't stop there, no. He puts cameras everywhere. Some are in hidden places; others are not. He enjoys just flipping through the cameras on his phone while listening to some idiotic citizen complain about something miniscule for the thousandth time. You were wearing his clothing, just sitting in your shared bed and watching your comfort show. You were enjoying yourself with that innocently lewd expression adorning your now placid features. You just seemed like such a cute house spouse. He may have to excuse himself and go take care of a problem. What? You're just being so good for him. It makes him swell with pride.

ꨄ︎ If you are good enough, then he may allow you the privilege of having internet access. Of course, he is monitoring it. When he is in a good mood, he will act like he is your sugar daddy. Which he technically is, because he pays for everything and you are physically incapable of stopping him. Your wishlist is his. He keeps a list in your file about the types of gifts you like.

You may just occasionally be surprised with the same exact thing that you had favorited awhile ago. You know it's always Kai doing it because he always buys some lacy or risqué for you to wear. He gifts you; you gift him with your body. Lingerie is just human wrapping paper, after all. He enjoys the present under the wrapping the best.

He also scrolls through the media you watch. Any political content has a parental lock on it. It has to be approved by him before he allows you to watch it. If there is something intriguing that you decided to watch when you thought you had privacy, Kai may just barge in and ask if you'd like to recreate it.

ꨄ︎ If you get a period... Kai will track it. He will always make sure you have the right period products, foods, and medication. No, nuh uh—he swears he isn't doing it because he just genuinely cares and doesn't want to see you in pain he didn't cause. He's doing it because he can't have the future parent of his messiah baby harming their womb. It wouldn't be responsible if the divine ruler didn't treat your fertility with the respect it deserves.

You're probably a lot luckier if you are able to get a period. He's a lot more lenient with you. He'll allow you to have mood swings and crying fits. He'll let you eat all the chocolate and sweets you want, as long as you eat the balanced meals he provides. He'll treat you like a god(dess) during that time. When no one is around of course. He completely focuses on your happiness and pleasure during that time.

ꨄ︎ When he gets arrested, you have another panic attack. You had finally settled into a comfortable routine with him. You had succumbed to Stolkhome syndrome. You were just content with it. Your anxiety and fears were still higher than ever, but Kai protected you from all the bad things. Now, the bad men want to take him away from you? You get interviewed many times. You refuse to speak. They call you a victim of his manipulation. They see your scars, and after a doctor gives you a physical examination, they conclude that Kai is an absolute monster. They had to give you anesthesia for the physical examination. It was the only time you talked with any of the police or detectives. It was more like shouting than talking. You thrashed, twisted, and turned to escape them.

In this way, it just proved that Kai was right. They said you were brainwashed by him. No, you weren't. Kai saw the truth in the corrupt institutions. They violated your boundaries for no good reason. Kai violated your boundaries, but for good reasons. You deserved it when he crossed them.

ꨄ︎ They declared you mentally unwell and put you in a mental hospital. You went willingly only because you wanted to be away from the scary people. You only got newer and scarier people. They made you strip, and you had to be constantly watched. It made you yearn for Kai's safety and control.

You lied to get out of it. You said that you were scared to cooperate at first. You weren't brainwashed by him. You were only acting like it because you feared him. They believed you, and within a month, you were out of there. They put you on anxiety and anti-depressants. They urged you to also get a therapist to work through your trauma.

ꨄ︎ You disregarded them. You didn't need therapy! You didn't need some bullshit medication! That's what Kai always said. The medication and psychologists were just there to warp your mind. They aren't there to help you. They are there to make you conform into what society believes is 'mentally well'. You just have a little problem. It's all just fake. Kai would tell you if you had problems. He helps you out. He keeps you safe. He'll tell you what to do.

ꨄ︎ You helped him escape prison. Naturally, it was hard to get in to visit him because some of the guards had heard whispers of what Kai had done to you. With a little bribe, you managed to secure a monitored conversation with him. He threatened the guard, and suddenly your conversation wasn't monitored anymore. Kai was so unbelievably proud of you. He was so proud of how loyal you are. He rewarded you for such a good job. He remarked you with hickeys and bruises, so people know who you belong to once again. He possessively rubbed circles into your inner thigh over your tracking chip. You wouldn't let the bad men take it out, and because of a lot of red tape, they legally couldn't do it without your consent. It just made him ready for another round. How did he get so lucky to have a person like you who loves him so dearly? A lot of abuse, manipulation, and Stockholm syndrome.

ꨄ︎ As you sit on his lap in one of the visitation rooms, he formulates a plan with you. Soon enough, you are dressed in a guard's uniform and stressed out of your mind. You were barely able to help him escape. Your hands were shaking the entire time. You must have taken over half of the bottle of that stupid anxiety medication just to get through it. You were a little out of it and threw most of the pills up after.

Kai had to punish you for taking medication you weren't allowed to. He just worries about you, okay? They almost got his little lamb. He couldn't have your personality numbed by any 'medication'.

ꨄ︎ It all climaxes when he confronts Ally while she is running for senator. It was all such a blur. One moment they were arguing, and the next Beverly tried to kill Kai. You managed to tackle her and wrestle the gun out of her hands before she shot him. You got shot instead, in the gut. The next few months are extremely hazy for you. You kept going in and out of a coma. When you awoke, a lot had changed in Kai's world, but you remained ever-present.

ꨄ︎ You learned that Winter was gone. You didn't feel much. You didn't get to learn the details of it. It could have been way before you were even aware. Kai always kept you out of the loop about those things. He said it was to protect your pretty little head. You listened to him. You'd always listen to your divine ruler. Kai managed to slander Ally and turn everyone's opinion around. Suddenly, Ally was the one who had abused you and fed you all these lies about Kai. She was arrested and sentenced to death. Beverly met a worse fate. She was brutally mutilated in the same way that your, you forget, you had a stalker once—didn't you? You can't exactly remember.

You know Kai had a hand in it. He always has a hand in everything.

You learned that he truly was a cult leader. Your memories were so repressed and damaged that you were unable to connect the dots. You were overjoyed that Kai won the senatorial seat. He was heading towards the presidential seat next. With that, he had you married. A ring on your finger, forever. A divine ruler did need his spouse. It is crucial.

ꨄ︎ He made sure that you recovered and were right by his side while campaigning. He had a book ghost written for you about how evil Ally Mayfair-Richards was and how a vile feminist cult twisted your mind. Most of it was just sugar-coated lies. Kai's abuses were in there, but they were all said to just be minute things that Ally spun into a defaming web of lies.

He campaigned with you and made sure that all of your clothing was appropriate. He only let you show your scars when it would win him polling points. He still wanted the cutting to be just a you and him thing. He didn't need the press to see the fresher scars and cuts and run a slander campaign against him.

His possessiveness did occasionally overpower his need to dominate the world. He would always keep a hand on your waist, have at least one eye on you, and scare anyone off that tried to get too close to you.

ꨄ︎ It climaxed when he realized he needed to push family values. So he announced your pregnancy during an interview on some right-wing news platforms. You were understandably confused. You aren't pregnant. Kai plans on fixing that. All day and night, he is trying to fill your womb. He is so desperately making it so you will have his heir. Part of it is just publicity. Another wants his messiah baby really badly. He needs to baby trap you so you don't ever leave him. He needs to ultimately mark you as his. What better way than a child? The miniscule brown-haired part of him just wants to be a better father than his own. He just wants to be a better husband for you than his father ever was. He wants to make his mama proud, wherever she is in the afterlife. You wouldn't deny him this, would you? You've already given him so much. Just a little more, and he'll be satisfied. To think this all started with your silly little Reddit post.

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⟿ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser @etheral-moon @fear-is-truth @slutforgarlogan @newwavesylviaplath @fuckedbykai @violet1737 @marchsfreakshow

.ೃ࿐ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- .ೃ࿐

#american horror story #yandere #ahs #ahs cult #kai anderson #kai anderson x you #yandere kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #yandere kai anderson x reader #yandere american horror story #yandere american horror story x reader #ahs headcanons #yandere headcanons #ahs yandere headcanons #headcanon #my headcanons #ahs fanfiction

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ruben-the-cowboy · 16 days

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RIP Van Der Linde gang 😔 you would’ve loved:

Abigail Marston - Marriage counseling, Stanley Cups, The Barbie Movie

Arthur Morgan - Slim Jim’s, Bass Pro Shops pyramid, Levi’s wooly Jean Jackets

Bill Williamson - Grindr, Shitty Gas Stations, “Don’t Tread On Me” flags

Charles Smith - Mitski, microwaved popcorn and movie nights, Bison as a protected species

Dutch Van Der Linde - Backseat Driving, Political Debate Podcasts, fruit flavored vapes

Hosea Matthews - Keurig Coffee Machines, chiropractors , Candy Crush

Jack Marston (depending on age) - Warrior Cats, Percy Jackson, Disney +

Javier Escuella - Electric Guitars, Cards Against Humanity, The Oscars/Grammys/Golden Globes

John Marston - 3 in one soap, Ford Truck Of the Month, band T-shirts

Josiah Trelawney - Magician Kits, Amazon, America’s Got Talent

Karen Jones - White Claws, Dolly Parton, Brittany Broski

Kieran Duffy - Star Stables Online, NASA space pictures, JellyCat Plushies

Lenny Summers - Kindle tablets, Soundproof headphones, Barnes and Noble

Leopold Strauss - Cashapp/Venmo, Facebook, Wikipedia

Mary-Beth Gaskill - thrift shopping, fanfiction websites, Taylor Swift’s Eras tour

Micah Bell - Ben Shapiro, Alpha Males, Playing Devil’s Advocate

Molly O’Shea - Steel Magnolias, Weighted Blankets, Themed Calendars

Rev, Orville Swanson - Bible study, AA meetings, Sacramental Wine

Sadie Adler - WLW music, Matching tattoos, Gym Membership

Sean MacGuire - Totino’s pizza rolls, Good Mythical Morning, Sugary Cereal (Lucky Charms /j)

Simon Pearson - Hell’s Kitchen, Panini press/waffle iron, Walmart Superstore

Susan Grimshaw -Life 360, Boxed Wine, Cats

Tilly Jackson - Mani-Pedis, Shea Butter Scrubs, Micellar Water

Uncle - Wheel Of Fortune, Recliners, Car seat heaters

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #van der linde gang

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marinas-drafts · 7 months

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Road Head

A Sarge & lil Mama scene

Summary: Elaine plays the loving spouse, the avid groupie, the shy novice -all in the time it takes to please her husband while pondering exactly what her life has become in the Amphetamine blur of their third nation-wide tour.

Warnings: 18+ rough oral sex (m. receiving) drug mentions, mentions of drinking, angst, role play of a sort (pretending the wife isn’t his wife), some obvious marital dissatisfaction, some disassociation, slight degradation and cum on the face -I swear this isn’t fully miserable but please proceed with caution, this is rather universe a-typical with its smut, not much tender loving care except faintly at the end, if you get my drift

Fully Co-Authored with @elvisabutler in a single, angst-fueled evening

Masterlist

Date: 1974, somewhere on Tour

It was right about now that Elaine realized she’d succeeded in reinventing herself just a little too well.

It was the look of recognition or lack of recognition that led her to that realization. The man above her was Elvis Presley but the woman where she knelt was not Elaine Presley. She wasn’t even Laney or Tink, she was just another girl on her knees looking up between overdone eyelashes and perfectly coiffed hair at the man with hips and lips to kill for. She felt shame then, at that realization, but odder still was the relief that flooded next. Here was no standard of behavior to reach, no image to match up to, no history weighing her down, there was only the heat then and now the musky smell of his stage sweat and the unrelenting grip of his hand on the back of her neck, keeping the rhythm he wanted without a second thought to what might suit her.

How was he to know?

She was a stranger, and strangers haven’t got tastes that men like Elvis Presley would deign to cater to. Moreover even if they did, even if men like Elvis Presley did deign to cater to them, it would be at the expense of doing something for him. It would be at the expense of catering to a whim or a mythical fancy that his drug-addled mind had dreamed up.

No, this was better, Elaine can become the lips he wants stretched across his cock. Elaine can- Elaine can play the virgin who doesn’t know how to take an uncut cock between her perfectly done lipstick. Elaine can play the experienced road girl who hasn’t ever had an uncut cock but oh Elvis, I can do it, I’ll make you feel good. Elaine can be everything but little Elaine Presley who wants to nuzzle at the patch of hair at the base of his cock like she had when they were first married.

Elaine would like to think that the little Mrs. Presley of days gone by wouldn’t recognize this tour hardened woman with spit and precum coating her throat and chest in a glistening film, messy in a deplorable, filthy, back alley sort of way that only the basest of masculine desires could appreciate -but she knows she would. Always so eager to keep his eye on her even back then, anything for Elvis, anything at all. Anything to keep the man who was so obsessed with her that he pushed her against her father’s door and asked her to marry him. Promised to give her everything she ever wanted. Anything to keep the man who she thought she lost forever after she lost Jo, the man she’d thought she’d won back with Marie.

But do ya love me, Elvis? Me?

This is what that little Mrs. Presley had led her to: a life of pleasing and chasing after a man who’s supposed to just be hers. It’s as pathetic as some of the papers would make it seem and yet it’s not. It’s worse because this wasn’t how everything was supposed to go. She should be happy and round with another baby. She should be riding him in the bus and reminding everyone to get out so she can enjoy her husband, with him laughing at how ‘y’all heard Laney’.

Instead her knees are on the floor and her tongue plays with the slit of his cock as her hand plays with his balls lazily inhaling every bit of his sweat soaked musk as she can. Taking comfort in the burning gag of him pushing too deep too fast, perking up at every “fuck yeah” he groans, contenting herself with making that left leg of his shimmy -it’s still him, slight belly paunching above her, and at least it’s still her and her stupidly hopeful heart when he hisses fast and frantic,

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna-“ tapping her cheek hurriedly because she knows this routine well enough to not be so foolish as to keep him in her mouth for this, her willingness to swallow yet again wasted on a man of such peculiar tastes.

Instead she makes sure her eyes are smiling along with her mouth, not too stiff and not too knowing, just the right sorta cheerful blankness he can tug the last bit of his pleasure to before coating her hair like a teenaged boy.

The first few times there was a twitch to her eye as the warmth of his release started to slide down to her forehead. The sensation making her gag more than his cock ever had but now this has become an old hat, a parlor trick she could show off.

See? This is how you keep a man like Elvis Presley.

You let him come in your hair after you sucked him within an inch of his life and you let him maybe take care of you, talk like one of the boys and mention how your beaver needs attention. Or maybe it’s just how she keeps him, pretending she isn’t his wife who wants more kids and who asks for them only to be brushed off. Pretending she isn’t his wife who hurls an insult or five at him when the champagne courses through her.

Of course, it’s got its comedic side, every tragedy does, and it fuels her grin as she waits patiently on her knees for his eyes to focus and his voice to rasp the inevitable, “c’mon let’s get ya up honey, let’s take care of that widdle pussy”. Because the joke is only a wife of nearly two decades would know which uppers he took based off of the time it took for him to blast off. No backstage girl could make a mental note that it was the New York doctor’s blend if he didn’t last longer than ten, and the Californian’s if they were creeping up nearer to forty. Her jaw aches tonight. Valuable as this information is she wishes idly as his cum stings her eye that she could somehow apply it to his general health. His boners seem to be doing fine, and it comforts her ego, but it’s his heart she frets over more and more each day.

She’s gotten wonderfully good at that -fretting. Elaine does it at all hours of the day and night, can multitask with another endeavor and keep at it like a champ. There’s a couple hundred photos of her on this tour smiling her best wifely smile and all the while her mind is awhirl with worry. She assures Elvis it annoys her even worse that it annoys him, this worrying she does. When she’s tipsier than she would like to admit she sometimes lets out a sneered “someone has to.”

Because even while she’s on her knees she worries for Daisy, worries her daughter is making a life similar to this Amphetamine blur she herself lives in, somewhere on the rock n’ roll Highway but not with a man who’s promised her what Elvis has promised Elaine. Her daughter would probably scoff at Elvis’ promises. Most of their children might by now and she wishes that kept him up at night alongside her.

Maybe that’s why the pills are necessary after all.

It’s only after the uppers start to wear off and her champagne runs her down that she’s curled beside him, hair and face devoid of his release and as clean as the day she was born that he seems to remember who she is. He seems to remember who she is and whispers against her hair. “Ya a‘right, Tink?”

To his credit he asks, he always asks and the answer should be easy, she should say she doesn’t know. She should say the truth that sits on the top of her tongue but she’s his wife and she wants him to be happy. “I’m alright, Naughty.”

Maybe if they say it enough, maybe if she believes it enough she can make it true. Until then the lies will do.

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo 💋

@paradsol000

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@ab4eva

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@powerofelvis

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