#Cia’s Writing

[ovegakart]

who even knows what wizzro is. whatever he is, hes against whatever everyone else is

#theyre all so bitchy #and fun to write #now that cia has dark link #the motivation has become just 'screw ganondorf over' #hyrule warriors

[writing-for-marvel]

A Solid Foundation

Builder!Bucky Barnes x Fiancé!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend suspects your fiancé of having an affair when he starts working late, but Bucky would never cheat on you, right?

Warnings: slight angst - discussion of Bucky potentially cheating (no actual cheating), soft fluff

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: thank you so much for this gorgeous inspiration my love 💕 this is my second entry for the Connect 4: Into an Alternate June-iverse Event by @buckybarnesevents, for the prompt ‘Modern AU’. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

“Where’s Bucky? You two just got engaged, I would have thought he’d barely be able to keep his hands off you - he does at the best of times.” Nat jokes before taking a sip of her wine.

She had been stopping off at your apartment on her way home to drop some supplies for your engagement party next weekend, when you invited her to stay for a drink, wanting to take your mind off your fiancés absence.

“He’s been working late recently.” You try to say nonchalantly, but Nat’s far too observant to miss the disheartened edge to your voice.

“He’s a builder. Start early, finish early, what’s he doing still working at 6:30?” You didn’t know the answer to that question. And though part of you is curious as to what he’s up to, you’re also nervous to find out the truth.

It’s Bucky, the man who has loved you through every high and low, treasured every part of you, especially on those days where your insecurities were at their worst. Who has done the silliest, most embarrassing things just to hear your laugh. Who trusted you enough to reveal his deepest trauma, who comes to your arms for comfort through every nightmare.

You find it difficult to believe that man would be capable of hurting you, even knowing he hadn’t been completely forthcoming with you the past few weeks.

“I’m not sure, he’s been a little secretive since we got engaged. I don’t wanna push him to talk about it, I just wish he knew he can trust me with whatever it is.” You say as Nat supportively takes your hand, something of sympathy in her eyes.

“Oh sweetie, you are far too pure for this world. Working late, the ring, the secrecy - has it crossed your mind that he might be having an affair?”

“It crossed my mind for half a second before I scolded myself. It’s Bucky, he would never cheat on me.” You state with conviction, the memory of each night you’ve fallen to a peaceful sleep in Bucky’s arms only supporting your belief that he would never put himself in that position with someone else.

“As much as I want to believe you, you know I’m a cynic. In my experience men are pigs, you give them an inch and they take a mile. I know he’s sweet and you love him, but at the end of the day, he is a man.”

But Nat doesn’t know Bucky intimately like you do, hasn’t experienced his selfless and generous heart day after day for the past two years, hasn’t been loved all-encompassingly by him like you have.

You’ve never even thought to question his loyalty to you - Bucky has never given you reason to.

You hear keys rattle in the front door and shoot Nat a look which unquestionably screams don’t bring this up.

Bucky smiles instantly when he sees you seated at the dining table, that same adoration and serenity brimming in his eyes as when he always comes home to you. Though you do notice his skin is somewhat flushed, as if he’s just been physically exerting himself, his hair looks a complete mess and appears slightly darker with sweat.

You know exactly what’s running through Nat’s mind at this very moment.

“I’m gonna let you two talk.” She declares with a perceptible tension in her tone as she stands and grabs her purse. “But I swear if you ever hurt her Bucko, you’ll die a slow, painful death.” She vows with a glare that seals her promise. Though you know Nat well enough to perceive she isn’t joking, Bucky seems to think she’s kidding.

“Duly noted Nattie.” He chuckles as he watches Nat shoot you an encouraging look and then make her way out the front door Bucky just walked through. “What was that all about?”

“She’s just being protective.” You justify, not knowing how to, nor really wanting to tell him that your best friend suspects he’s having an affair. “I told her you’d been working late recently.”

“What… she thinks I should instead be here doting on you hand and foot?” Bucky asks as he moves behind where you’re seated, his hands reach for the back of your neck and begin massaging the tension from your shoulders which had built up from your long week at work. “You know I’d much prefer to be here with you than working.” You shudder slightly at his words as he places a gentle kiss to the skin where your neck curves into your shoulder, your body subconsciously revealing that you don’t fully believe he was working.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He asks, feeling your muscles tense even further underneath his hands, and you internally curse yourself for letting Nat’s speculation get under your skin.

“Where were you tonight?” It’s a simple, four word question, yet the weight of significance on his answer feels like your whole world could start crumbling before you depending on his response.

“I told you this morning: Steve needed me working late.” Bucky replies without hesitation. It’s a straightforward answer, yet there’s something about it you can’t quite believe - a half truth that he’s practised too much that doesn’t quite feel natural. “Why do you ask?” There’s a hint of worry to his voice, as if you’re getting a little too close to something he’d like to keep to himself.

“Nat thinks ‘working late’ is code for you cheating on me.” You comment, placing all the blame on your friends postulation rather than your own curiosity.

You hope Bucky won’t hate you too much for indulging in your friends theory, that he won’t completely resent you for insinuating he’s been unfaithful. Because you don’t think he’s cheating on you, but you also don’t believe he was working late tonight.

Instead, Bucky steps towards you and tentatively places two gentle fingers under your chin, tilting your face so that you’re gazing directly into his vulnerable, sincere eyes.

“Doll, you know I would never, ever, hurt you like that. I love you, you’re my whole world, I wanna marry you and spend the rest of my days making you feel as loved and cherished as you make me feel.” You sense the heaviness of your engagement ring on your left hand, you’re still getting used to carrying the small weight of it around with you everyday, though right now it feels substantial.

“I know you wouldn’t Buck, but since you proposed you’ve been a little secretive. Long days, working weekends. I mean you have to admit it’s slightly suspicious.”

He sighs, coming to some sort of internal decision when his gaze meets yours again. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you in an attempt to distract you from the topic of discussion.

“I promise you, I can explain everything, but I think it would be easier to show you.” His hands snake down your arms and when he takes both your hands, pulls you from your seated position at the dining table.

“Show me?” You query, having no idea what that could indicate he’s been keeping to himself.

“Yeah, care for a drive?”

* * *

The night is dark as you sit in the passenger seat watching the world pass you by, the empty roads only lit by periodically placed street lamps and the bright headlights of Bucky’s truck.

You have no idea where he’s taking you - you’ve never been to this part of town before and have no preconceived ideas as to what being here indicates for his unplanned surprise.

Bucky drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other rests comfortingly on your thigh, an indicator that he’s not upset about you insinuating he could be having an affair, and that where he’s taking you to is not a revelation you should be anxious about.

Soon enough he turns down an innocuous street and pulls the car to a slow stop. You're in the middle of a suburban area with expansive blocks of land, stopped a few metres behind an SUV that has stickers of a family of five and a dog on their back window. Looking over at Bucky, you find he’s staring at you with an excited expectancy from the driver's seat.

You turn to look out the car window and the reason Bucky’s been ‘working late’ hits you like a bus.

You’re parked in front of a half built house - at the moment it’s just studs and partitions, with an unemptied skip out the front, but you can see the skeleton of a beautifully spacious two story house.

He’s building you a home.

“Bucky…” You comment under your breath, unable to articulate the swarm of thoughts buzzing around your head and the pure love blooming in your chest like a flower as he rounds the car and opens the passenger door for you.

“I know it doesn’t look like much yet, it’s just the frame and foundation, but soon there will be a roof, walls, windows, and a proper floor. It’ll really start taking shape.” He's nervous, you can tell by his shaky tone of voice, which you find adorable.

“You’re building us a house?” Your stomach contorts with guilt when he smiles crookedly and nods. How could you have ever been suspicious of his long working hours when they were spent building a physical monument to his love for you?

“I wanted to build our dream house, somewhere we can grow old together.” Your heart just about bursts when these words fall from his lips. Though the night is dark, the moon and the small torch Bucky keeps in his truck are the only source of light available, you can see the fondness in his eyes.

You give him a sweet kiss before approaching the house, an outline in chalk on the ground indicates where a front porch will be built and the entry to the house is currently only the rectangular frame of timber.

Bucky starts walking you through the house hand in hand, explaining what he had planned each room to be used for. There's only wooden studs outlining every room and a concrete slab for a floor, but you can already imagine what the space will look like when it’s all complete.

The entry foyer has high ceilings where you can currently see the stars shining, a large winding staircase connects the ground floor with the one above. To one side is a large garage, an offset office and bathroom, to the other has a large sitting room.

As Bucky pulls you further into the structure, the house opens up to a large, open plan living area. You can picture cooking together in the kitchen, room enough for a large island where you can sit and watch as Bucky cooks you breakfast, sneaking kisses in between breaking eggs. A smile grows on your features as you imagine what the future holds for you two, and what you envisage is beautiful.

He shows you where he thinks the lounge room television would go, before steering you to the right to an open room where the walls don’t have horizontal studs like all the other rooms you’ve seen so far.

“And this will be your sunroom.” He comments, eying you with a smile as your jaw drops in awe.

“A sunroom?” You ask as your voice cracks and hot tears well in your eyes.

Your dream house always seemed so far out of reach, you wondered if you would ever earn enough to own a place of your own. But it didn’t stop you from wishing for your dream house. That concept had changed over the years, but the one aspect which remained the same was it containing a sunroom. A place where you could sit in quiet contemplation and read your plethora of novels in peace, the warm afternoon sun heating the room as you draped your legs over beloveds, finding tranquillity together.

Bucky really is making all your dreams come true.

“It wouldn’t be our dream home if we didn’t have the sunroom you always wished for. This entire wall will be a huge built-in bookshelf, then the rest will be just glass, looking out over our backyard and have the perfect view of the setting sun.”

You find yourself completely lost for words, unable to articulate how remarkable this entire house is, that he built it for you, and how you will forever come home to a physical reminder of just how much Bucky loves you.

“If there’s anything you don’t like I’ll change it. I want it to be perfect, I want you to love it.” He says as if he can’t see that you already adore every inch of the house he’s built, thinking that your silence indicates aversion rather than pure amazement.

“Bucky, it’s already perfect.” You lean over to kiss him, slow and sweet, because you need to express the overwhelming gratitude and affection for him doing something so special for you. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you when you were putting in your spare hours to build us a home.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry, doll, I shouldn’t have lied to you about where I was and what I was doing, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” His arms snake around your middle and pull you closer to him so none of the cool night air separates you.

“It is a surprise, such a wonderful surprise. I love you so much and I can’t wait to spend our life together here.” You say, looking up at him with wide eyes, only closing them to kiss the stubble on his sharp jawline.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Bucky places a kiss to your forehead, his voice soft but heartfelt and full of tenderness.

For a moment you stay cuddled into his strong, warm chest, his arms gently stroking up and down your back in soothing motions, feeling completely loved and so excited to start your marriage in a new home together.

“Will you show me the bedrooms upstairs?” You ask with a small voice, part of you not wanting to move from Bucky’s embrace, but also intrigued to see how much more work he’s done in the name of love for you.

“Of course, my love.”

He kisses you once more, for emphasis, before guiding you carefully upstairs to show you the spacious master bedroom where you will be spending your first nights as a married couple.

If you're interested in seeing the floorplan I based the house off, you can find that here

#em answers #em writes #Cia 🐴 #bucky Barnes #Bucky #Connect4AU #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters

[skyward-floored]

He is furious.

Volga storms into Cia’s lair, shoving monsters and minions out of his way as his gut burns with rage. His mind is focused on only one thing, and nobody dares try and stop him as he approaches the sorceress. Cia is reclining idly on a chair as he enters, but Volga is unconcerned with whatever she’s doing, striding to her side as his chest heaves with anger.

“Oh Volga, I didn’t expect you back yet,” Cia hums, sounding only mildly interested. “Was your mission a success?”

Volga glares at her.

“You knew he was my son.”

Cia slowly blinks, and she flicks her gaze up, red eyes unreadable.

“Who?”

Volga slams his spear into the floor, a snarl escaping his lips. “The Hero. He is my son. And you did not see fit to divulge this information to me.”

“Oh that,” Cia hums, resting a hand on her staff, almost casually. “It never came up.”

“He claims you told him,” Volga hisses, feeling the urge to shift into his dragon form and demand answers. “Weeks ago. You saw it fit to inform him, and yet kept this information a secret from me?”

Cia has the audacity to laugh.

“It changes nothing,” she says with a wave of her hand, meeting his gaze. “I knew it would serve only as a distraction to our goals. That is why I informed him, and not you— it now consumes his thoughts, and the Sheikah leader’s as well. Their minds are filled with distractions, which makes them more susceptible to mistakes.”

She strokes a hand along the length of her staff, and her eyes flash.

“And Link is the Hero, and therefore mine. His relation to you is of no concern.”

She waves her hand in a clear dismissal, and turns back to whatever it was she was doing before.

Volga narrows his eyes, smoke trailing from his nose as he stares at her. He had not concerned himself much with Cia’s infatuation, focused only on the goals which she set before him. But now, learning his son is the object of such lust...

There is a different sort of fire in Volga’s chest now, one that he has not felt in nigh over eighteen years. Something that burns not only for himself, but for the hatchling he did not know existed until mere hours ago.

They may be enemies, but the boy is his kin.

And Cia seeks to chain him to her side, without any choice on his part.

“He is not yours,” Volga growls finally, the fire growing in his chest. “I am his kin, and therefore if he is anyone’s, he is mine. I reject your false claim on him.”

Cia’s hand tightens on her staff, and the fire in his heart stalls, a creeping fog overtaking it.

“Make no mistake, dragon,” she says in a low, cold voice. “You are only here by merit of your usefulness. And I do not tolerate meddling with what is rightfully mine.”

The fog creeps deeper, soft and inviting as it spills in. It beckons him to sink into it, but Volga resists, glaring at Cia.

“Witch,” he spits, starting the transformation into his dragon form, “you have no honor, using magic to persuade me. Curse you—”

Volga’s grip on his spear loosens, and he grunts, his transformation stopped as pain ripples up his chest and through his head. The fog follows it, dark and thick as it spills through, and the conversation and reason he had stormed in sink away into it, lost in the mists of his mind.

Cia smiles.

“Leave me, dragon. I have work to do. I will call you when I have another mission that requires your skill.”

Volga grunts again, a distant buzz of pain in his head. His anger is gone now, the fire nothing but embers whisked away by Cia’s magic, and he nods, giving the sorceress a small bow.

Then he turns and leaves the room, Cia watching him go with that same small smile.

#tweaking lore and bending canon to my will once again #hdw au #hyrule warriors #legend of zelda fanfiction #fic #writing from the floor #booooo Cia #I’m thinking maybe Link tells Volga on skyloft since they’re sort of alone ish #still working on it tho

[international-writing]

Intelligence 101

Writing a story about spies and international intrigue? Not sure what you're diving into? Let me help!

Let's start with the basics.

What is Intelligence?

Basically, "intelligence" refers to the information gathered by governments or institutions that might help guide their course of action. However, there are many types of intelligence depending on how it was obtained, its purpose and the subject:

Human Intelligence: The word says it, intelligence obtained from human sources, generally during covert operations. Whether or not it is relevant depends on the operative's skills within their field of action.

Political Intelligence: Makes use of open-source reports provided by diplomatic personnel, particularly military attachés. Helps foresee the behavior of a country's political forces abroad. It's the least reliable source of information but the parts regarding military organization are the most sought after. Ironically, they're more accesible during war than when in peace.

Economical Intelligence: The collection of information on trade, finances, natural resources, industrial capacities, etc.

Technological Intelligence: Relating to the creation, development and improvement of methods of access and protection of information.

Strategic Intelligence: In charge of gathering information regarding the capacities and intentions of other countries. Includes covert operations beyond the borders, development and maintenance of special and secret diplomatic relations are included here.

Tactical Intelligence: Otherwise known as "operational" or "of combat". It has military purposes and is mainly used in times of war or international tension.

Counterintelligence: In charge of protecting a country's own intelligence systems against foreign ones.

Signal Intelligence (SIGINT): Obtained by the interception and decoding of encrypted messages.

Electronic Intelligence (ELINT): Includes remote sensors such as motion, sound and traffic ones placed in strategic spots in other countries to learn about their capabilities.

False Intelligence: Makes use of deception, disinformation, subversion and double agents.

Images Intelligence (IMINT): Videos, aerial and satellite information. Nowadays they play a vital part in the gathering of strategic information.

Now that we have dipped our toes into the intricate world of espionage things should start to seem clearer. I hope this has helped you and if you would like more information on the subject of Intelligence do stay tuned.

If you have any specific questions, feel free to submit an ask and i will do my best to help!

#writing tips #writing resources #writing help #writing advice #writing community #MI6 #CIA #DGSE #spies #james bond #007 #mission impossible #bourne

[fantastic-nonsense]

it's the way Wonder Woman comics constantly redo the same five or six stories because none of her writers ever actually bother to read her comics and Tom King is showing himself to be no exception

also this plot is just. so bad. Not only is it a rehash of stories that have already been done (Tom King read the fallout from Amazons Attack/52/One Year Later challenge), it's just bad. The human rights violations inherent in forcibly expelling an entire population from the US, the disproportionate response to ONE AMAZON potentially committing mass murder, the fact that two of the Wonder Girls are American citizens and all three of them are currently based in the US, the complete lack of care or understanding for the diplomatic role the Themisycrans have at the UN, him wanting to write Diana as an outlaw when Artemis is right there...why are they letting him do this

#I'm so tired. I'm so tired #I hate my whole life right now #can't believe they're giving an ex-CIA agent with a ridiculously iffy track record writing women THE biggest and most important female hero #wonder woman #dc comics #dc fanwank #diana prince #diana of themiscyra #tom king #anti tom king

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 6: Made to Watch

Read on Ao3

- Warriors & Twilight

- Summary: Cia manages to capture Warriors and decides to try to force him to remain with her

CW for nonconsensual touching, nonconsensual transformation, mild body horror, torture, a character being possessive, vomiting, blood and injury

--------------------------------

Warriors glares down at his legs, trying in vain not to look up. He is all too aware of the faces grinning cockily down at him from every angle of the room. And he would really rather not gaze upon them. They give him the creeps, quite frankly.

Who knew his own visage could look so wrong, slapped on the walls of someone he abhors?

He shifts, flexing his bound hands to try and bring feeling back into them. The ropes are pulled so tightly that he is certain their pattern is indented in his skin. Magic reverberates through them, dark and thick and nauseatingly wrong. Even it feels possessive, as though its wielder has imbued it with her sentiments.

The thought sends chills running down his neck and back. It’s almost as if he can feel her hands on him already, like skulltulas crawling across his skin. Unconsciously, he curls in on himself further.

He doesn’t know how Cia returned to the land of the living. Frankly, he doesn’t think he wants to. But one thing is for certain, he wishes it had never occurred.

Neither had he thought he would set foot in this place again. Foolishly, he had thought it was all over. 

(Save, of course, for the creeping memories of his men lying in pools of their own blood; townspeople screaming in horror and pain; long nights spent agonizing over maps and plans, trying to figure out how to win the next battle, trying to ignore the constant, creeping terror that someone followed his every move, cold fingers reaching out to brush his neck.)  

Yet here he sits in the depths of Cia’s chambers, wounded and bound. His head still aches from where the moblin had slammed its club into it. A trail of drying blood tugs at the skin of his forehead.

Warriors closes his eyes for a moment, exhales long and slow through his nostrils. Fear is seeping past his defenses, turning his mind numb. He can’t let that happen. He has to stay alert, keep a hold of himself.

But that is awfully hard to do. Even more so when footsteps echo in the hall.

There are multiple pairs of them by the sound of it — three perhaps — some heavier than others. And as they grow closer Warriors finds it increasingly difficult to slow the mad rhythm of his heart.

Cia is coming, he can feel it, feel her dark magic seeping through the walls and floorboards.

His breath hitches the slightest bit and he forces himself to hold the next one, then blow it out slowly. It still shakes a bit but at least he is in less danger of hyperventilating now. 

Calm yourself, captain, he orders. He squeezes his eyes shut, allowing himself a moment to feel the serenity of cool darkness. All the while, the footsteps grow continually louder.

Remove yourself from the situation. You’re no good if you’re panicked.

Warriors clenches his hands, determined to stop their shaking. He can’t show her weakness, he refuses to. But he can’t do more than slow the manic bob of his knee, up and down, up and down, mimicking the erratic pound of his heart.

His body demands to retain one, small nervous tick and he has little choice but to cave. 

The footsteps come to an abrupt halt now, just outside of the double doors. Warriors inhales sharply, breath caught in his chest. He can hear his heart pounding like it’s the only sound in the room, filling his ears, reverberating through him like the beat of war drums. 

Then, both doors are flung wide open with a flare and fury that can only belong to one person. And sure enough, there she is, standing in the doorway with her hip jutted outward and her head tipped so the shadows play upon it, violet eyes gleaming like a demon’s, a malicious smirk curving her lips. 

She looks just as she did in the time of the war. A shiver tears up his spine.

“Well, well, look what we have here,” she croons, waltzing into the room. “It has been far too long, my little hero. But I am so delighted to see you again.”

She begins to walk toward him, every step making his heart climb higher into his throat. Then, she is mere inches away, grasping his chin and dragging it upward so he has no choice but to look at her. He fights not to recoil from her touch. 

“I brought you a little gift to celebrate the occasion,” she purrs. “I do hope you enjoy it.”

She raises a hand and motions to whoever still waits in the darkness of the threshold. Then, quick and quiet as a serpent, she slips behind the chair he is bound to. She leans forward, hands snaking around his shoulders, breath and hair tickling his ear. 

“Now, watch,” she murmurs. “I want to see your face when you see what I brought you. Or rather who.”

She has barely uttered the word when the sounds of a scuffle come from the doorway. Seconds later, a figure Warriors would know anywhere is hurled unceremoniously over it. The Hero of Twilight lands in a bloodied heap on the hard floor.

Warriors can’t help the way his breath hitches in his throat. 

“Rancher?” 

A moblin lumbers into the light. Grasping Twilight’s shoulder, it wrenches him upward so he kneels before Warriors. Slowly, the hero raises his head.

A gash runs jaggedly across his face, cresting the bridge of his nose. Its gory crimson stands out against the pallor of his skin. His hair hangs limply, weighed down by blood and sweat. His pelt, outer tunic, and armor are gone, his undertunic and pants bloodied and torn, allowing glimpses of the angry welts and bruises and cuts lying beneath. 

His eyes are abnormally bright when they meet the captain’s, but that all too familiar fire still burns within it. And when he catches sight of Cia, hovering behind Warriors, her hands still on him, his expression turns positively murderous. 

“Get away from him,” he growls, earning himself a swift kick in the ribs. He doubles over, gasping. A fresh streak of worry zips through Warriors. 

But the sorceress has no problem ignoring what is happening before her. She begins to laugh and the sharp sound echoes in Warriors’ ears. 

“Wonderful! Just the reaction I was expecting!” She steps back, clapping together her hands. “Now, we can begin.”

“Begin what?” Warriors spits, anger in his tone. He grasps onto it, if only to keep his fear at bay. “It seems you’ve done more than enough already.”

She chuckles again, as though she is privy to some wonderful joke that neither hero is. 

“Oh, captain, I certainly have missed you. Death was so unkind to keep me from you. Thankfully, there are those who understand the need to rise from the grave.” Cia grins. “And now that I’m back, I would really rather not have to lose you again.”

She runs her hand along the side of his jaw and neck, the movement almost gentle. Warriors is certain he is going to be ill.

“So you are going to stay here with me…” Her face is suddenly inches from his. Warriors cringes back, trying to turn his face away. But long fingers grasp his jaw and wrench it back into place.

“Forever.”

Warriors nearly chokes on the breath he had been holding. He had known it was coming, there was no way he couldn’t, but that doesn’t negate the terrible feeling that one word provokes. He has felt suffocated by this place since he awoke here. Now, he is certain that it’s crushing him. 

“He’s not gonna stay with you,” Twilight says, his tone firm despite the way he trembles. There is something dangerous in it too, like the bite of a wild animal. “He’s not your pet.”

Cia turns to him at that. A high-pitched, maniacal giggle bubbles out of her. 

“It is absolutely hilarious that you of all people would phrase it in such a way. Tell me, does your friend know?”

She closes the distance between herself and the rancher. Then, reaching out she grasps his chin, angling his face upward. With the other hand she traces the dark markings around his eyes and on his forehead. Twilight tries to pull away but she holds him fast.

“This one is dripping with dark magic,” she says, addressing Warriors now with an almost giddy tone. “He’s coated in it! Just look at these markings! And this” – She releases Twilight’s face and lifts the crystal he wears instead, turning it in her fingers — “This is the source of it all. He has used its power so many times now that it might as well be a part of him. I wonder, if all that magic were gone…or perhaps changed, would he break?”

Twilight’s expression doesn’t change from its steadfast mask of anger. But Warriors has known him for too long now to miss the flash of fear.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, sharply. “It’s me you want, not him. Release him. Now.”

Cia giggles again. For a moment, she regards the crystal. Then, dropping it, she turns back to Warriors. 

“I’ll let him go eventually. But first we’re going to have a bit of fun. You see, the wonderful thing about dark magic is that it has no qualms. It can be warped and twisted however you wish. It won’t put up a fight. It might even decide to help you, if you’re lucky.”

Warriors’ eyes narrow. Panic thrashes within him like a bird caught in a cage. He has to find a way out of here, he has to. 

“So.” Cia stalks toward him, grinning as though she is exceedingly pleased with herself. “Either you swear to remain by my side for eternity, or your friend comes to know what it feels like when I bend dark magic to my will.” Her smile turns almost sweet. But there is blatant danger behind it, a temper that is too easily kindled. “It’s your choice, my little hero.”

Twilight skewers him with a look so cold it could send most grown men running. Under better circumstances, Warriors would tease him about how well he has managed to capture the old man’s glare of disappointment.

“Don’t do what she wants, captain. I’ll be fine.”

Warriors swallows, feeling vaguely lightheaded. He knows the answer he should give. But Cia’s presence is everywhere, smothering him so he can’t breathe or feel or think. His own face grins down at him from every wall, malicious and oppressive. And some desperate, selfish part of him wants to scream that he can never live this way. 

With an effort, he forces himself to open his mouth. The words he wants stick in his throat, though, and nothing comes out. 

“The clock is ticking,” Cia hisses, fire beginning to burn behind her eyes. “Your hesitation perturbs me, little hero. We are meant to be together, can you not see that? We are far bigger than the powers that try to keep us apart. Come, be with me the way it should be.”

Her words wrap around him like treacherous vines. Warriors can’t breathe past their grip. 

“He was never meant to be with you, witch,” Twilight growls. “And if you think your little plan to manipulate him is gonna work, you’re gonna be sorely disappointed.”

She whirls on him, pent up fury radiating off of her in waves.

“Time’s up!”

Warriors jolts forward with a strangled shout. “No, wait!”

But it’s already too late. 

A flick of the sorceress’ fingers and Twilight goes rigid. His eyes blow wide with terror and agony. A scream breaks free, strangled and hoarse and terrible. Black flecks begin to dance in the air. They surround him, coalescing into something darker and more solid. Then, quick as a spear in flight, they zip into his chest. 

Abruptly, Twilight’s screams cut off. His eyes roll back in his head and he slumps in the moblin’s grip. For a long moment, the room is horribly quiet. 

Warriors doesn’t dare take a breath. His ears still ring from Twilight’s cries, head still pounds from woundedness and fear. Distantly, he realizes that he should look around the room for some method of escape while Cia is distracted. But he can’t tear his eyes from Twilight's limp form. 

Let him be okay. Dear goddesses let him be okay.

A violent screech suddenly fills the space, eerie and petrifying. It ricochets around Warriors’ skull and he yearns to close his eyes in an attempt to block out the noise. But it continues and he remains frozen, helpless to do anything more than watch as Twilight morphs. 

His body enlarges and elongates, pale skin turning the color of fresh tar, lines of silvery-gray tracing strange patterns along it. Lines of crimson weave deadly cracks along his chest. His hair turns long and wiry, spreading like mane from a face that no longer even remotely resembles something human. Oddly, Warriors can’t help thinking it looks more akin to a shield now, lacking in features as it is. It is adorned with lines and circles, shapes carved into it as though by a potter into clay.

The beast (or…Twilight he guesses, though there is nothing there to remind him that this thing was ever his brother) gives a screech again, so loud Warriors is certain his ear drums are going to burst. And then, he whirls around and hurls the moblin at the wall. The monster hits it with a deafening crack that makes the room tremble and creates a sizable, moblin-shaped dent. It disappears seconds later.

Cia begins to cackle as Twilight faces her, limbs trembling (though with anger or pain, Warriors isn’t certain). He regards her for a mere moment, then with an enraged howl, lunges. 

“Now, now,” she croons, stepping effortlessly out of the way, “be a good beast.”

She holds up the crystal (Warriors hadn’t even seen her snag it) and suddenly Twilight is back, darkness folding around him as he crumples. He just manages to catch himself on his hands and knees, dazed eyes flitting to Warriors. There’s something in them, something urgent trying to break through the haze. And for a split second, Warriors tries desperately to decipher it. But then, the chance is gone. The rancher doubles over and vomits.

“Painful, isn’t it?” Cia says. She delivers a swift kick to the rancher’s chin and he falls. “I told you dark magic is not to be trifled with. And you, oh you, have certainly trifled with it an awful lot. But that is hardly my priority in all of this, only an observation that has proven oh so useful. No.” She turns to Warriors, a smirk on her lips. “My priority is you.”

He’s shaking, Warriors realizes dimly, with anger, with fear, with the guilt that tears up his insides. But he grits his teeth and meets her eye.

“Let him go.” He drags out the words, slowly, each one measured so that his voice doesn’t tremble. It’s the same method he used to address his troops before battle. “And I’ll stay with you. I swear.”

Her eyes light up and a little, giddy gasp escapes her. Warriors’ stomach churns, threatening revolt. He swallows down the bile that rises in his throat.

“Say it again,” she murmurs, prowling up to him, hands already outstretched to brush over his cheeks. “Tell me we were meant to be together. Tell me you’ll stay for all eternity.”

Magic revels at her fingertips, hot and oppressive on his face. Terror wedges itself in his throat and he closes his eyes. The taste of blood is sharp and nauseating.

“Keep them open,” she orders, voice taking on a harsh edge now. Fingernails dig into his face.

With an effort, he obeys. 

“Come now.” Lips hover inches from his and there’s no room to flinch away, nowhere to run. It’s just him and her, a nightmare made manifest in reality, an eternity of misery.

He swallows again, hard, to push down the rising urge to fight back.

“No,” Twilight croaks. “Captain…don’t! Don’t let this monster control you!”

Her eyes turn to blazing fire at that.

“Monster?” In an instant she is straightening, whirling to face the rancher, and Warriors can breathe again. “You think I’m a monster for wanting what I deserve?! You little — I’ll show you what a monster is!”

There’s a terrible flash of light and dark again. The room fills with the sound of agonized screams, turning quickly to the deafening, alien cries of before. And then Twilight is gone, and the beast stands in his place.

But that, it seems, is exactly what he had wanted. 

The rancher is shaking, blood dripping from wounds Warriors can’t see. But he doesn’t allow himself even a moment to catch his breath. With an animalistic shriek, he throws himself at Cia. Close as they are now, she doesn’t have time to evade. He comes down on top of her and she hits the ground, crying out in shock and anger. 

Desperately, furiously, she struggles, screaming obscenities and cut-off incantations. Twilight, however, doesn’t give her a chance to get the upper hand. He digs his talons into her with an abandon that Warriors can’t help finding a little terrifying. 

But he isn’t about to complain. Because the moment she falls, he feels the spell strengthening his bonds stutter and die. The ropes are useless without it, loosened as they are by his constant fight against them. They fall limply to the floor.

He’s on his feet without a second thought, mind locked in the numb determination of an adrenaline rush. Twilight’s crystal has fallen a short ways away and he snatches it up by its cord. 

“Rancher!” he calls, holding it up. 

Twilight spares him a quick, eyeless glance, then reels back and swipes at Cia so fiercely that she goes flying. She collides with the opposite wall, then collapses to the ground, blood dribbling from her mouth.

“You,” she growls, between agonized breaths, “you pathetic dog! I’ll get my revenge for this! Link will be mine!”

And then, in a cloud of violet and black, she is gone. 

He can still feel her presence in the room, still feel her on him, readying the spell that would enslave him to his own promise forever. But Warriors pushes all that aside and turns to Twilight.

“Here.” He holds out the crystal. “This will turn you back, right?”

Twilight nods. Carefully, he reaches out a dark, taloned hand and scoops the crystal into it. The shadows fold around him, there’s a faint “swoosh”, and the rancher is once again standing before him. 

He wavers, looking dangerously close to collapsing, but Warriors puts his arms around him before he can. His own legs aren’t feeling too steady, though, so he ends up lowering them both onto the ground. Twilight slumps heavily against his shoulder. His breathing is sharp, short, and shuddering, his face ashen and pale. But he drags his gaze up to meet Warriors’ anyway.

“You ‘k?”

Warriors laughs, bitterly. “I should be asking you that, rancher. What on earth did she do to you?”

Twilight frowns at the crystal still cupped in his palm. “Somethin’ she…she shouldn’t have been able to.”

“I’m sorry.” It comes out far quieter and more broken than he had intended, but at this point he hardly cares. 

“Shush. Ain’t you-your fault.” The rancher shifts, wincing slightly as he does so. “And don’t you try…arguing that-that it is.”

Warriors smiles, dryly. He had been thinking up an argument – more than one – while they spoke.

“You’re too much like the old man, you know that?” he says, with a sigh.

Twilight’s lips upturn in a grin, but he doesn’t answer. His eyes have slipped closed now. Warriors can tell unconsciousness isn’t far off. 

Shoving his tumultuous thoughts aside, he gives the rancher a gentle nudge. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet. We still have to get out of this place.”

And the sooner, the better.

“Can you stand?”

Slowly, Twilight nods. He drags his eyes open again, blinking up at the captain.

“Don worry, I’ll hang on. You’re skinny little self could…couldn’t lug me out of here.”

Warriors chuckles, despite himself. “Don’t sell me short, rancher. Believe me, I’ve carried heavier than you.”

Twilight sends him a look that says he doubts that. But he allows Warriors to help him to his feet. And as they start toward the door, he leans against the captain, not even bothering to protest his support.  

Despite the complaints of his own body, Warriors is glad of it. The very least he can do is get his brother away from this place where violet eyes gleam and long-fingered hands reach out to imprison. These are his demons to face, not Twilight’s. The rancher has endured more than enough on his behalf. And if Cia shows up again – and Warriors is not foolish enough to assume that she won’t – he will do whatever is necessary to ensure she never harms his brothers again.

#whumptober 2023 #no.6 #made to watch #linkeduniverse #fic #injury tw #blood tw #vomit tw #mild body horror #torture tw #nonconsensual touching #nonconsensual transformation #lu warriors #lu twilight #trin writes #whew this one had a lot of warnings #basically most of it is just cia being a creep #like always #also #i know with twilight's hero's spirit #he shouldn't be able to get turned into a shadow beast #but i thought #what if cia could somehow warp the shadow magic just enough to make it possible? #but he keeps his presence of mind because the hero's spirit allows him to not turn into a complete monster

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Well, y'all saw the Good Ganondorf part of the prompt, now it's time for Evil Zelda >:D

Have a snippet until I figure out what the heck I'm gonna do with this story.

This couldn’t be happening.

Zelda found herself standing before one of the many paintings of her ancestors. The Sacred Diplomat, one of her greatest predecessors, stood serenely, adorned in paint and silk, eyes closed with a gentle smile. The entire Triforce glowed on her hand, almost seeming to mock her.

She had fought a war and won. She had brought peace to her Hyrule. She had united all, despite the impossible circumstances. And she had done so with her Hero. She had married her Hero, had entwined their destinies in such a powerful bond that even evil itself shattered before them.

Yet here she was, crowned ruler only due to her own ineptitude leading to her father’s demise. Here she was, having only just gotten a shaky peace at the cost of so many, only to immediately lose it and her Hero. Here she was, responsible for resurrecting evil incarnate because she had suggested destroying the last seal holding him at bay.

Zelda felt cold dread coil around her, a fear squeezing her heart as if it were trapped in a vice grip. Her palms were sweating, and she balled her fists in determination. She would not go down this easily. She would not be the queen remembered for her failures.

Turning sharply on her heel, she marched along in the dark hallway, eyes alight with determination and cold rage.

XXX

By the grace of Hylia, they had found their target.

Zelda marched into the room, eyes cold as she glared at her enemy. Cia knelt on the ground, her hands bound behind her back, head bowed.

“She was in the Lost Woods,” Impa reported. “It seems most of her power has left her.”

“Most isn’t all,” Zelda reminded her general before returning her attention to the dark sorceress. She approached her slowly, channeling her own magic as she summoned her blade, pointing it at Cia’s neck. “I wonder how happy you are, knowing that Link is in peril? You never could seem to make up your mind if you wanted him dead or not.”

Cia flinched as cold steel met with her bare skin, though her eyes widened as she looked at the queen. “Link’s in danger?”

Zelda gritted her teeth, feeling fury surge through her. The energy it gave her drove her forward, and she pushed the blade closer, nearly knocking the sorceress onto her back. “Don’t you dare act like you care, you hag! You’re responsible for all of this!”

“Your Majesty—” Impa interjected, taking a hesitant step forward.

“Be silent,” Zelda hissed, not taking her eyes off her target. “You, witch, are going to help me. Use your magic to find Link.”

#writing #good ganondorf #loz: golden mercy #Zelda's uh... under a lot of pressure #I don't make people evil just to be evil it's way more fun making them complicated #hyrule warriors #hyrule warriors zelda #hw zelda #cia

[martyrbat]

[ID: a Wikipedia article from under the controversies category on the page for ex CIA member (and comic book writer) Tom King. Text reads:

In July 24 2020, Tom king posted on his Twitter account a complaint about comic book artists Jae Lee doing an alternate cover for his upcoming Rorschach series. He stated that DC comics did not consult with him about it and said that Jae Lee had previously done a cover for an alleged hate group called ComicsGate. King said that he reached out to DC comics to let them know how much disappointed he was with that cover and that for him, the only real cover for issue number one of the series was the one by main artists Fornés Jorge.

The post received several responses, some users that sided with King, demanded DC comics to cancel Lee's cover for his alleged ties to ComicsGate. The same day, King made another post on his twitter account this time stating that he had talked to Lee, he is not on Twitter and he had no idea what ComicsGate is about and does not support any kind of similar groups. He ended the post saying that they were all good, and that it was the best possible outcome to the whole situation.

On July 26, Lee took on his Instagram account to post his side of the story, explaining how he was unaware of all the drama that unfolded on twitter because of King's post. He compared it to "A plague" that came barging into his life at a very sensitive moment as his beloved dog had just passed from health complications. He went on to explain how King's post took away his time for mourning for his dog, as he received several calls and texts by friends and colleagues bringing news of the hatred coming from a stranger's mouth into his life. Lee stated clearly that was not a part of any group and that he was angry, saying: "These irresponsible tweets are not harmless. They do not just go away. They have real world consequences. They can take away your job. Your life. Your memories. June (wife) and i were robbed of a special day. So, no, we are not ALL GOOD."

Following Lee's Instagram post, King tweeted that he was very sorry and wanted to publicly apologize to Lee and that he had done a critically mistake and would delete his post as a sign of closure.]

#re last post #love how the ex cia man deletes the post ‘for closure’ and says everything is all good over his err #after trying to smear an artists reputation & career and getting rightfully corrected. #also who formatted this wikipedia article its atrocious... #but like. yeah. taylor has shit writing too but king is actively harmful instead of just being annoying or cringy lmao

[draxeanlxia]

Another writing idea for Linked Universe. One I may or may not write. Not sure yet. Now this idea is full of angst but if you write it, it could have an happy(ish) ending. I will understand if you either hate me or love me for this prompt.

Prompt: Mask and Tune leave the Captain’s time for their own and hope that Link can finally rest and relax. Unfortunately the exact opposite happens to Link. Link is constantly dealing with traitors that want to kill him for starting the war. (The fact the woman who actually started the war can seen roaming through the halls of the castle freely is irrelevant to them.) For over a year Link has many many many attempts on his life. 3 major attempts a day that Link is aware of and several minor ones that others has taken care of.

Everything comes to a breaking point when someone attempts to take Linkle’s life, thinking she was her brother. Linkle survives but Link has a major mental breakdown. Like really bad.

Zelda temporarily relieves him of duty (with hopes of him, one day, returning) and Impa takes him the secret Sheikah village to recover. Recover does not come fast. Link is severely paranoid. Has to watch every food for him being made. If he doesn’t see it being made, he will not eat it and will throw it. (He did this to a child delivering a bowl of soup in the beginning of his stay. The bowl narrowly missed the child’s head. He apologized later.) Plus among other things, like the fact Link can’t sleep without 2 knives under his pillow, at least 4 on his person, and his room being insanely boobytrapped to the point even Sheikah are both impressed and worried.

By the time 8 certain heroes come through a portal into his Hyrule a few years later, Link is a bit better but seeing blue or green colored fabrics, among other things, will send him spiraling back. By that time as well, Zelda has shown what happens to those who turn traitor. It is not quick and painless like it was before. Cia is also finally punished for her part because while she was under some control, most of her actions were her own. 

Time and Wind are at first excited to see their big brother when they realize who’s Hyrule they’re in. Until they meet Zelda and she tells them what happened.

Time and Wind wished they never left.

#writing idea #writing prompt #linked universe #hyrule warriors #lu warriors #lu time #lu wind #lu artemis #lu linkle #lu chain #angst #major warriors angst #warriors is not having a good time #why is warriors fuuny to torture? #cia gets what she deserves #whoops I broke warriors

[ironandglass]

Okay writers, I gotta ask if anyone else does this embarrassing ass shit.

Do you... make dumb faces while you are writing? Because I will straight up make the face I imagine a character to be making in that scene while I'm writing it sometimes if I'm really in the zone.

#Am I alone in this? #face empath #writing #fic writing #writers #writing problems #this is so dumb but I'm too curious i gotta know #my cia agent must think im batshit insane w the faces I make during dialogue scenes #they ain't wrong tho

[michaeljoncarter]

I feel like half of the reason TK got so big is he's been partnered with incredible artists

god, yeah. where's that one post that's like "heartbreaking! best artist you've ever seen paired with some guy named tom" bc that's it exactly

#ask #anonymous #him & taylor both rely almost entirely on the skill of their artists #and their ability to talk in circles about 'politics' to make libs feel like their writing is deep when rly theyre saying... nothing lol #but tk's gimmick is that nerds are hot for the fact that he's ex-cia #and tt's gimmick is that he's more than willing to regurgitate whatever takes he sees gaining traction in twt into his comics&make it canon

[sarahreadstoomanycomics]

Tom King taking over Wonder Woman is literally one of the worst timelines for me.

#anti tom king #first off in general i prefer it when women write her #but mr ex cia man will probably once again mischaracterize her #and focus more on her warrior side than her empathetic one #allow me yo be a hater over this #im not usually a hater

[skyward-floored]

In you half-dragon Warriors AU, does Volga know Warriors is his kid? If not how does he react when he finds out? Particularly regarding Cia?

(I haven’t played HW so if he dies in it can we pretend he doesn’t?)

At first, Volga has no idea. He and Impa ended up going seperate ways before Impa even realized she was pregnant, so he has no clue he even has a son for a long time. I haven't totally worked out when he finds out, but it's sometime during the war, and I think either Link or Impa tells him while they're fighting maybe (for extra Drama).

Volga is not happy when he finds out. Especially not when he learns Cia intentionally kept the information from him. Plus there's the whole thing where Cia is sort of trying to get Link, who turns out is kind of his son, so Volga sort of has to figure out where his loyalties lie, and sort through all those pesky feelings he's maybe been ignoring the past, oh, eighteen years or so.

Of course, it's sort of implied Cia is using dark magic to keep him on her side so there's that as well...

(As for Volga dying, it's... kind of unclear? You have a sort of final battle with him, and he doesn't come back after that, but I don't know if he actually dies or what. For the sake of this au though... I think he doesn't. It's more fun if he sticks around a while :)

#I might write out Volga confronting Cia actually oooh that might be fun #*adds to the list of ideas* #...that list is getting longer every day o_o #answers from the floor #lovely lamia viper blog #hdw au

[gintrinsic-writing]

A (very belated) continuation of a 2022 Whumptober fill, in which Link, after being Cia's prisoner for 2 years, is found by the Chain.

For @gingerest-ale and @sighfineillcomeback.

#way less whumpy than before #but the whump is still there #i might write a part 3 eventually in which Link/Warriors is officially part of the Chain #but i'm me so who knows when that might be #lu fic #lu warriors #lu time #lu cia #linked universe #gintrinsic writing

[frownyalfred]

you couldn’t waterboard my ao3 password out of me

#CIA wants to know this one special trick #ao3 #archive of our own #love you <3 #fic #fandom #fic things #reading #writing #tumblr #thoughts

[silvercaptain24]

Just Breathe

@shyrule @shyrule @shyrule Shy SHY SHY SHY SHY SHY SHY!!!!!!!!!

He’d made it.

He’d made it in time.

Twi sunk into the Great Fairy Fountain, lowering the body down with him. He could feel magic coalesce as the spell broke, and finally, finally, the young man took a breath.

He choked almost immediately, eyes wide and panicked, and Twilight pulled him into a sitting position, one hand gently rubbing his back. It made his heart ache, how he could feel every bone so sharply. How every newly made scar felt like a sharp ridge. Time had said that he was a soldier, but to be in this condition…

How long had he been there?

The young man gasped for air, as if he’d thought he would never get another. He probably had thought that. His head flopped uncomfortably into the space between Twi’s shoulder and neck, too weak to hold himself up. Twi shifted him down, just a little, to a more comfortable position.

His breaths faltered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, so little air coming in or out, and it hurt that he couldn’t do anything else to help. There was another wheeze, and then the young man was gasping for air again, frightened as ever.

“Easy, easy,” Twilight murmured, rubbing his arm, “It’s probably the last of the spell wearing off, your body adjusting back to normal. It’ll be alright.”

There was the tiniest whimper from the young man, still gasping for breath, still wheezing out carbon dioxide. Twi could feel the way his body shook with the effort, all the energy and strength that he didn’t have going towards breathing, towards living-

Tears slipped down the young man’s cheeks at the effort to just breathe. 

“Easy, Captain. The magic is working, but you don’t want to strain too hard,” the Great Fairy said gently, before getting distracted by one of her kin and disappearing.

Twi gently wiped the tears away and adjusted the young captain, murmuring, “It’s alright. Nice and easy, just deep, slow breaths. There you go. There ya go.”

The young man opened his mouth, as if trying to say something, but panic filled his eyes before he could say anything.

“Shhh. It’s alright. Save your strength,” Twilight said, pulling the pelt around the shivering young one in his lap.

The captain whimpered, and Twi gently hushed him, wrapping his arms loosely around him and gently rocking. 

“Just breathe,” he said gently, “You’re alright. Just breathe.”

#lu warriors #lu twilight #once again a slightly out of context snippet #silver writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #for once the great fairy isn't really being used for angst #this is a first #btw all this is cia's fault blame her and her magic