#but binding yourself to something unbreakable

[ladycrimsonandblack]

Honestly, I really love the way Jujutsu Kaisen uses pacts and promises as an essential part of the worldbuilding. It's a simple concept in theory — you give up something important, to get something in return — and I honestly thought it would be a one-off when Nanami mentioned it, but no. Every sorcerer, curse or a curse user knows it and is capable of using it. It's so integral to the society that whole fight etiquette and numerous techniques were built around it. Nanami's monstrous amount of cursed energy after hours is a result of binding his energy during work time. Sukuna's domain allows an escape route, but that means he can spread it over a 200-meter radius. Heavenly restrictions are taking away Maki and Toji's cursed energy in exchange for superhuman abilities. It's a give and take that makes sense, and allows for there to be some kind of balance between regular techniques and insane power-ups.

Also, on the funny side, I love how the pacts are used to rationalize anime logic and make it make sense in-universe.

Oh, Yuuji can't immediately regain control of Sukuna after showing him to the front? It's not just for the Drama or the Plot; he used Sukuna without making a pact, and tried to gain something without losing something else. Of course it's going to backfire.

People often explain their techniques to their opponents in the middle of battle? It's a pact with yourself — you're giving away the advantage of having an unknown technique in exchange for its increased effectiveness.

The villains are stupid enough to set up a shop outside an unbreakable barrier? It's unbreakable exactly because they did that; they gave up their own safety and set themselves up in the most visible spot in exchange for making the barrier stronger.

It's both a pretty interesting and consistently present concept in-world, and an incredibly clever way to explain anime logic in the narrative. I love it.

#jjk

[wnderlvnd]

OUROBOROS | YUNHO

SYNOPSIS: it was at first sight when you finally believed in someone other than yourself. yunho catches your gaze from across the room, all red, red, and rust-red. all hurt and empty. he doesn’t look away. you see the human in him and that means there is no greater threat if he’s the one by your side. 

(he will be the one to kill you. you’ll make sure of it.)

tags: GN reader, murder, betrayal, depictions of violence 

here’s a fic concept:

thinking of a world where death games happen, and there’s only two kinds of people who fight: as punishment or as entertainment. the rules are simple: win enough and maybe you walk out alive. you know why you’re in the games, know what you’ve done to fight for freedom when it was taken away from you, so when you see yunho, you don’t know why he’s there. 

he has none of the lust for blood or amusement for killing nor does he have the heavy shame or desperation it takes to reclaim his life. he’s stoic, emotionless, he survives because of it. you know because he’s been in the games for as long as you have. 

and, when you have another match and yunho is one of the contestants, you pay him no mind and kill the others. you collect your bodies, move with brutal efficiency. you’re good. reliable. you have to be. it’s why the inner circle has its chains on you. 

it’s when you jerk your shiv out of a body that you realize you two are the last ones standing. the air between you charged, electric, striking. he looks like a corpse in the moonlight. 

you don’t want to kill him, not really, but your choices have already been made. it’s kill or be killed. he steadies himself, body tense and ready to strike. you do the same. 

you take one step forward–

and the announcement rings out. two survivors. you imagine the audience’s ire, the wave of disappointment that ripples throughout the nation. you shrug it off, slipping into a cold mask. there’s something strange in the way yunho looks at you, like he’s gazing through you at something you don’t know yourself. 

you turn away, you don’t want to know any more burdens.

your performance that day lets you live comfortably until the next match. it isn’t until a messenger comes by that you realize it isn’t over yet. the inner circle wants you to have a partner, to make a duo that will create a storm.

you and yunho. 

your life is his and his is yours. you think of the strength in his hands, the bulk of his arms, the blood that stains him, you think of the way he trembles at survival. then, you think of the weight of his gaze and you wonder what it takes to move a man like him, what it means for him to live. 

a narrative forms in your head. you two will have a bond, sanctified by blood, honored by loss. it’s inevitable, the shackles that bind you both, the ways you will hurt each other. you’ll make him care, you’ll make him want to live again, you’ll plant a seed in his heart that’ll fester in him. then, you’ll make him kill you. 

you might think it impossible, hope and happiness an arm’s reach away, so close you could grasp it in your hands and keep it, but you forget yourself. 

perhaps it was in the ways yunho gave himself to you. his hurt, his joys, his dreams. the way he talked about life like it mattered, like it was something worth living. you let yourself indulge, just a little. 

light breaks through the windows in a glorious glow and you haven’t felt this warm in years. you made it. you’re home. there’s food on the table and your safe bed is waiting for you. you see it, then, with your heart wringing out of you. you see what yunho talks about when he talks about living. 

you open your eyes and there’s a gun to your head, cold and unmovable. the hand trembles. it’s you or him again. it’s an easy choice. always has been. because your choices have always been made, it’s been written since the beginning. 

kill or be killed.

you had thought yunho to be unbreakable, unmoveable. he shrugged off every obstacle in his way and made it out alive. you wondered once, what it would take to make him fold, to make him snap. the answer is simple.

all it takes is a kiss. you wish you had more time.

when his wretched face mirrors your heartache, you can’t help but think it’s symmetry. 

you take one breath, and you’re gone in the next. 

don’t be sad. it’s okay because this is the greatest kindness you’ve ever known, after all, the dead don’t bury themselves. 

#ateez fic #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #fic concept #my writing #*waves hands* or something like that

[plumoh]

lay down your burdens

Rating: G

Wordcount: 2642

Summary: “What I’m trying to say is that… you look more bothered about your arm when you’re wielding my weapons. Specifically the Binding Blade, so maybe don’t force yourself to use it…?” / Roy asks Diamant about his scar.

Note: AO3 link. You know how Diamant had a fire magic accident when he was younger and Roy has a flaming sword? yeah.

Engaging with Diamant, as opposed to other warriors, feels natural—Roy is extending himself to become Diamant’s sword and armor, protecting him while also making him stronger to take care of their enemies in one sweep. Each Emblem has different assets, which aren’t suited to everyone’s fighting style; while Roy is more than happy to provide assistance and protection to Princess Ivy, he knows that he isn’t the most compatible with her. Alcryst says that he benefits greatly from the power Roy is lending him, but there is still something not quite right when they’re engaged, even if he’s the second prince of the kingdom that has watched over Roy’s ring for generations.

This feeling of wrongness is an oddity that is shared among many of the Emblems, even Marth, who has arguably been around far longer than any of them. Engaging with someone develops a bond that cannot be replicated easily with the next person who decides to use the ring’s power. But an unbreakable bond is just as dangerous as a weak bond—some stories tell the tale of warriors and Emblems who lost themselves when their partner fell in battle.

Roy knows that. Some tools are only meant to be tools, but the human nature is to love. He can’t think of anyone deliberately trying to avoid becoming friends with the person they’re engaged with. It is also difficult to fight in an army without caring about the people that constitute it. For an Emblem, ignoring their warrior’s feelings and resolve is a tall task; they become one.

Which is why Roy is keenly aware of Diamant’s heart hammering against his ribcage like it wants a way out whenever he brings out the Binding Blade to set a part of the battlefield ablaze. Roy wouldn’t call it nausea, but it’s a near thing—Diamant is doing his best to remain calm and to direct his attack at the exact location it is needed, but the effort that is required looks far too taxing to be healthy.

“The path is secured!”

Diamant wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and grimaces when the metal of his gauntlet scrapes his skin. There’s only the slightest frown on his face when he looks at his gauntlet and sees that no blood was drawn. He sighs, takes a slow breath, and readjusts his grip on the Binding Blade. His fingers are firm around the sword, but the uneasiness never leaves. Roy should make Diamant disengage for him to regain his composure, but they’re in the middle of the battlefield and a new wave of enemies is rushing them.

So Roy keeps quiet and watches, as Diamant calls forth the fire of the Binding Blade while flinching away from it.

Roy, since he can’t exactly fidget when he’s incorporeal and not touching ground, hovers. Micaiah waves her staff and the bright green light closes most of the cuts on Diamant’s arms and face. She smiles at him and floats away to heal the next person. Diamant lets out a sigh, stares at his left arm for a moment, then pulls down his sleeve.

“What happened to your arm?” Roy asks before he changes his mind.

He’s seen the dark mark running across Diamant’s skin. On hot days, he’s seen the way Diamant purposely rolls up the sleeve of his left forearm just enough to avoid exposing the mark, while the right sleeve goes all the way to his elbow. This is a scar that Diamant isn’t proud of.

Diamant glances at Roy, his face not showing any kind of surprise, though his eyes shine with a glint of resignation—and Roy frowns at the sight.

“Sorry, if you don’t want to answer that’s totally fine,” Roy says. “The… bruise caught my attention a few times before and I got curious.”

He didn’t mean to be so blunt in his question, but if he waited any longer, he would never ask.

“I suppose it’d be impossible to hide anything from an Emblem who has lived with us for so long,” Diamant says, smiling.

Roy’s lips tug upwards at Diamant’s casual tone, but his stomach twists into knots. Even if Brodia’s royal family has protected Roy’s ring for decades, Roy doesn’t personally know them. He recognizes them through their aura, he can sense the purpose that runs deep in their blood, but he has started to get to know them only these past few months.

Getting to know someone and fully trusting them takes a long time. However, Roy won’t deny that a special bond is keeping them together, like they are truly destined to fight alongside each other.

“You know that as an Emblem, I can feel what you are feeling when you use my ring,” Roy tells Diamant. “So. It seems that you’re not entirely comfortable. Uh.”

Roy falters, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. Now that he’s actually broached the subject, the words are failing him and he thinks that it might not have been the wisest decision. Diamant clearly doesn’t want people to notice the scar on his arm for some reason, and Roy, even as his partner in battle, can’t just demand an explanation.

The knots in his stomach transform into a heavy weight as he realizes that even though their bond is steady and strong, if Diamant is always on the verge of passing out when he’s using the Binding Blade, then maybe they’re not that compatible after all.

“What I’m trying to say is that… you look more bothered about your arm when you’re wielding my weapons. Specifically the Binding Blade, so maybe don’t force yourself to use it…?”

"Roy.” Diamant lifts up a hand and that effectively makes Roy stop rambling. “You don’t have to worry so much. I’m not angry or upset you asked that question.”

Diamant cradles his arm closer to his torso, like he is trying to protect it a little while longer. That doesn’t make Roy feel any better.

“I think I’m simply self-conscious about this injury,” Diamant continues. “I’ve had it for a long time now, but it is evidence that I’m not as flawless as people think me to be.”

“Is that… truly a bad thing?” Roy asks, frowning.

Diamant sighs. “I suppose not. But most days, it is difficult to remember that those close to me won’t think any less of me because of one injury that I sustained years ago.”

Diamant tries too hard to act and stand like the formidable, unwavering prince who does nothing but train to protect his kingdom. These are qualities that befit princes, without a doubt, but the pressure he’s putting on himself is going to crush him one day. Roy would know.

When Roy looks at Diamant, he sees a friend before a prince, but people have often told him that his dislike for rank doesn’t necessarily reflect well on everyone—some nobles think him impertinent, commoners find him out of touch with reality. He and Diamant aren’t as close as he’d like them to be; sharing a similar status is clearly not synonymous with sharing the same values and priorities. Roy isn’t sure how his words would help Diamant, a man who has built around himself a barrier of forced self-confidence.

“I know soldiers who are proud to show off their scars,” Roy offers instead.

“A lot of warriors in Brodia are the same,” Diamant answers. “I’m not ashamed of my scar, but every day I am reminded of my weakness.”

“You’re not weak.” Roy’s reply flies out of his mouth before he can even think it.

Diamant casts him a small smile, certainly to show he appreciates the comment but he’s not believing it yet. He extends his arm, then slowly unclasps hi armbrace one belt at a time before rolling up the sleeve of his shirt.

The scar is no bigger than the width of a small dagger, located right in the middle of Diamant’s forearm. The passing of time made it dark red, almost brown. It’s obvious healers concentrated their efforts on treating it, but the attack must have been of incredible force if it left such a mark even years later.

Roy glances at Diamant, looks at the scar, then at Diamant again. He’s seen this kind of mark before, during his battles against dragons.

“Did someone burn you?”

“No, not exactly,” Diamant says, looking down at his arm, and Roy feels a weight lift off his chest. “It was an accident. When I was younger, I was training with fire magic and got careless.” Diamant looks back at Roy. “Ever since I got that injury, I’ve been afraid of magic, and specifically of fire magic. It sounds kind of silly when I tell you that, right?”

“From the looks of it, it was a very powerful spell. Dragon fire leaves similar marks if it’s not treated properly, and getting injured is never a good memory.”

It was hard at first to understand how dragon magic worked and how to efficiently heal the burns, which resulted in many soldiers going home with scars. Roy wishes that they could have done more for these soldiers.

“Is that why you’re hiding the scar? The memory of the accident must have been terrible.”

“It’s not entirely because of the memory itself. I’m… truly afraid of fire magic. I’m not exaggerating when I say this is my weakness.”

A hot wave of determination overwhelms Roy in a snap, and he takes a step forward, gesturing wildly at Diamant’s arm.

“You can’t say that, Diamant. You say you’re afraid of magic but you’re still fighting in the war and holding your own against mages! I’m not calling that weak.”

He’s spent so long being attuned to Diamant’s feelings during battle—his desire to protect, his quick thinking when in a tough spot, his ability to always summon the right weapon at the right moment. Roy remembers most of his past wielders, who were always invigorated with the knowledge of being able to use a fire-based sword. Just like Diamant, they were all courageous and headstrong in their own way; they all went to the front lines with the reassurance they were accompanied by an Emblem.

This is Roy’s role. He’s an Emblem giving strength to his wielders and turning the tide of a battle, but he is first and foremost a support for these warriors.

“If anything, if you’re always afraid when you’re using the Binding Blade but still succeed in winning a battle, then you’re one of the bravest people I’ve met.”

Diamant is staring at him with disbelief, mouth hanging open. It’s not fitting of a prince at all. If Roy still had a corporeal body, he’d be shaking Diamant’s shoulders with both hands and try to physically shove those words into his skull. Roy himself has been called stubborn and blind to his own behavior, and without the help of his companions, he’d still be an awkward ball of nerves unable to stand his ground.

“I hope you know how much strength it takes to fight while scared,” Roy finishes in a low voice.

Just as it suddenly overtook him, the burst of energy vanishes right as the last word leaves Roy’s lips.

Silence falls between them, stretching long enough for it to become uneasy. But Roy doesn’t regret his words nor does he wish this conversation turned out differently. He crosses his arms over his chest, attempting to hide his urge to fidget under that tense atmosphere. Even after a year of working on his body language, controlling his nervous habits remains the most difficulty task.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Diamant lowers his arm and directs his eyes at the scar instead. His face doesn’t betray much; he seems to have retreated into his own mind.

“That injury will most likely never properly heal,” Diamant remarks, pensive. “I’ll bear it all my life.”

“It is most likely, yes,” Roy replies, thinking about the scars that Dieck and Garret can’t hide and have accepted as part of themselves.

“I try to be the perfect prince that Brodia needs. I’ve always thought that if people saw this scar, they would think I wasn’t worthy of the title of heir because I had a clear disadvantage against mages. Brodia is a kingdom of hardened warriors, after all.”

Then Diamant lifts his eyes, and something much more appeased settles on his face.

“But no warrior is infallible.”

Roy grins. “That’s right. And no heir is alone in their journey to become the ruler they want to be. Asking for help isn’t a weakness either.��

“I suppose an Emblem would know that better than anyone else.”

“The others also faced similar struggles, talking to them would be very insightful. I learned a lot from them.”

Even before getting acquainted with a younger Aunt Lyn, Roy befriended Marth and Ike; two heroes whose legends apparently crossed time and dimensions. They might not have led the same kind of campaign or lived the same experiences, but from one general to another, they had many pointers and ideas to exchange—and Roy is always eager to learn more about battle tactics. He’s had longer discussions about doing what is right and how to rebuild a nation with Lucina, though. And Micaiah knows a thing or two about different peoples learning to coexist.

Diamant nods, and he rolls his sleeve back down to cover his arm.

“I’ll probably talk to Alcryst first, if the opportunity arises. He’s always saying he’s weaker than me and is nowhere near my level. He’s wrong, of course.”

Alcryst could also use a pep talk, Roy thinks.

“Alcryst will be surprised to learn his brother isn’t as indestructible as he imagines, but not in a bad way,” Roy says, then pauses. Backtracks immediately. “I mean, it’s not good you’re not indestructible! But you’re not a superhuman, that’s what I want to say!”

“I know what you mean,” Diamant laughs.

There’s no doubt Diamant never imagined that Brodia’s precious ring would house someone who still stumbles over his words. Roy groans.

“You see, I might have been the general of my country’s army, but I can’t even hold a conversation without making a fool of myself.”

“Well, I’d say the majority of the conversations I’ve had with you were reasonable,” Diamant indicates with a hint of teasing.

“Speaking in clear sentences is still something I’m working on…”

“Then let’s do our best, shall we? You’re working on your speech, I’m working on my fear of fire magic. We can achieve our respective goal together.”

It’s always reassuring, in a way, to see that rulers weren’t born perfect—all of them had to struggle and to work hard to erase as many of their visible flaws as possible, without stripping themselves of their humanity.

Roy lifts a hand and summons the Binding Blade in a flash of light. Diamant blinks at it.

“I’ll teach you how to protect yourself from the fire of the sword and how to face fire attacks,” Roy says. “It won’t be as thorough a training as the ones you’re used to, but I hope it will help.”

The corner of Diamant’s lips curls upwards. He extends his hand, palm up, and Roy deposits the Binding Blade on it. The sword takes on brighter colors upon the contact.

“I’d be honored to have you as a teacher, Roy.”

“And in exchange you can give me some tips about speaking with absolute confidence.”

“That sounds like a honest deal.”

Maybe Roy read it all wrong. He’s not incompatible with Diamant; they both have abilities they need to improve on, and what one lacks, the other can cover it. It is only natural to accept help and kindness from comrades and friends.

#fire emblem engage #fe engage #diamant (fire emblem) #roy (fire emblem) #i love them. a lot. #they have so many similarities and this is giving me So Many Thoughts #but the thing that makes me go insane the most is how they're both trying so hard to meet expectations ugh #ughh!!!!

[isabella-45]

Word count: 1035

Title: A Day in the Park

Summary: In this Todobakudeku x Reader one-shot, you spend a lovely day in the park with your three favorite heroes, Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Shouto Todoroki. As you enjoy a picnic, laughter, and friendly banter ensue, deepening the bond between you all.

The warm sun rays spilled over the lush green park, casting a golden glow on everything it touched. You laid out a soft blanket near a serene pond, the gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead. Today was a special day—a day you had been eagerly waiting for. You were spending the day with your three closest friends and heroes, Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Shouto Todoroki.

As they approached, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. Izuku's infectious smile, Katsuki's fiery determination, and Shouto's calm and composed demeanor made for a truly remarkable trio.

"Hey, [Y/N]! We brought the food!" Katsuki called out, proudly holding up a large picnic basket.

"Excellent!" you replied, making room on the blanket for the feast. Izuku sat down next to you, a playful grin on his face. "I hope you're ready for some amazing homemade sandwiches, [Y/N]."

"Of course, Izuku! I know you're an expert in culinary arts," you chuckled, causing him to blush.

Shouto joined the group, his heterochromatic eyes scanning the park. "The weather is perfect today. It's nice to have some time to relax."

"I agree," you said, handing him a sandwich. "We all need a break from hero duties once in a while."

As you all enjoyed the food, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Jokes, laughter, and friendly banter echoed through the park, drawing the attention of passersby. You cherished these moments, where you could just be yourself around these extraordinary individuals.

Katsuki, as always, couldn't resist teasing Izuku. "Hey, Deku, remember that time you tripped over your own shoelaces and face-planted into a villain?"

Izuku's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, thanks for bringing that up, Kacchan."

You stifled a laugh, glancing at Shouto who seemed to be enjoying the exchange.

"I must say, Katsuki, you're quite the provocateur," Shouto remarked, smirking at the explosive hero.

"Someone's gotta keep this nerd in line," Katsuki replied, nudging Izuku with his elbow.

"Don't worry, Izuku. Katsuki's just jealous that you've surpassed him in every way," you chimed in, causing Izuku's face to turn as red as a tomato.

Izuku stammered, trying to find a comeback. "T-That's not true, [Y/N]. Kacchan's strength and determination are unmatched!"

"Damn right!" Katsuki said with a smirk. "And let's not forget about [Y/N]'s quick thinking and bravery. They've saved our asses more times than I can count."

Shouto chuckled softly. "Indeed, [Y/N] possesses remarkable courage. It's an honor to fight alongside them."

The warmth in your heart swelled, grateful for the bond you shared with these incredible heroes. They saw you for who you truly were—a valuable friend and an equal.

As the sun began to set, casting an orange hue across the sky, you leaned back on the blanket, your gaze fixed on the horizon.

"I'm glad we could spend this day together," you said softly. "Moments like these are what make life truly meaningful."

Izuku and Katsuki nodded in agreement, their smiles reflecting their contentment. Shouto reached out and gently placed his hand on yours, his touch bringing you comfort and reassurance.

"We're lucky to have you in our lives, [Y/N]. We're stronger when we're together," Shouto said, his voice filled with sincerity.

A sense of unity washed over you, binding the four of you together. You cherished this friendship, knowing it was something special—a connection that transcended heroics and touched the depths of your hearts.

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you realized that today was not just a day in the park. It was a day filled with love, laughter, and the unbreakable bond between heroes.

[votestaynight]

11th day - "DragonSlay"/12th day - "Interval Level4" (scene 1)

The wind unravels. I start to see the golden sword in Saber's hands. ――The one that must not be used. The sword I told her not to use under any circumstances.

"―――――" I snap. It makes the last rope holding Emiya Shirou snap. "Don't use it, Saber――!!!!!!" My left hand is burning. One of the Command Spells disappears.

"Wha――why? This is the only way now, Shirou…!"

I don't know. I don't know anything about that. All I know is that you'll disappear if you use that. I won't allow that. And I can't forgive myself for not being able to let her use her sword freely and for not being able to save Tohsaka myself.

"Kuh…"

Saber falls to her knees. …Just releasing the sword gets her like that. You can't use that sword in your condition. So wait. If you can't use that sword, I'll make one that you can use――!

――If it is an opponent you cannot match in real life, beat it in your imagination. If you cannot beat it yourself, imagine something that you could beat it with.

With that said, it's obvious. That's the only thing I can do. So make it. Make something that will not lose to anything. Always imagine the strongest. Imagine the best imitation that will deceive everybody, even yourself.

It is not difficult at all. It is not impossible. From the beginning, this body was… …A Magic Circuit specialized for this purpose alone――!! "Ah――" I spring up. My whole body is burning and my left hand feels like it's on fire.

"Wha――? That sword is my…!?" Saber's voice is filled with blank amazement. She is staring at what I'm holding, which should not exist here.

"Ah――" Does the sword have a will of its own? "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH――!" The golden sword does not stop and, as if pulled toward it, slashes through the giant's arm.

Tohsaka falls with the arm that was grabbing her, and the sword that cut through his arm shatters like glass.

All the blood in me regurgitates. But there's no problem there. The sword broke. That is impossible. If I imitated that sword, it cannot be broken. It broke because it was not sufficient. My image of it fell short of the real sword.

"□□□□□□□□□□□□" His eyes stare at me. The giant sword is swung to really kill me this time.

――I don't care about that. He's not my opponent. For Emiya Shirou, there is only one opponent. The sword just now wasn't perfect. The unbreakable sword broke because there was a flaw in the assumptions. If I am to duplicate it, I cannot only duplicate its shape… I must also reproduce the maker――!

"――" I hear a gasp. In front of me is the axe-sword swung like a storm and a defending sword that is being made. I don't know if I'm desperate, but I'm blocking the attack with the sword in my hand. ――But that's none of my business. What I need to do now is make this real.

―――That is a mistake as well. Emiya Shirou is not made for fighting. Your fight is a mental fight, a fight with yourself.

I know that without being told. What I must do is simple. "――Projection, start."

I concentrate. I am challenging myself. No deviation or compromise is allowed.

"Gi――kuu, uh, aaaa, a――" Judging the concept of creation, hypothesizing the basic structure, duplicating the composition material, imitating the skill of its making, sympathizing with the experience of its growth, reproducing the accumulated years, excelling every manufacturing process―― "Kuh――ah, ahhhhhhhhhhhh…!!!!" Now, I bind the illusion and make it a sword――!

"□□□□□□□□□□□□――!" The giant howls. The sword blocks the numerous blows smashing madly…!

"…!" But this is it. I'm tossed away. As soon as my consciousness returns, the sword must have left everything in my hands. I am easily thrown away by the attacks I was easily blocking until now.

"Ha――ah" The senses in my arms are already gone. My wrist is about to rip off as I can see the red meat.

"――Kuh…!" My legs won't move. All my muscles must have stopped working. ――I can't stand up. I made the sword that surpasses Berserker. But that's all. As I am only a maker, I cannot handle the sword――!

A shadow engulfs me. He must know who he needs to kill first now. Berserker pursues me like wind, and… Swings his sword.

But his sword is deflected. "Eh――?" As I stand there in blank amazement, I notice another hand over my hand.

"□□□□□□□□□□□□――!!!!" The air shakes violently. The giant launches an attack with all his might to destroy everything. But just before that… "Shirou, your hand――!" I hear her voice closer than anything.

If Berserker attacked me like a gust, Saber must have rushed to me like a gale. Having rushed to me, Saber turns around and――

The sword of rock breaks. A flash of the golden sword smashes the giant's axe-sword, slashes into the hard body, and――

…If the shape is similar, the ability must be similar as well. The golden sword digging deep into Berserker engulfs the giant's body from the inside.

――But that's only for an instant. The light disappears and silence returns to the forest. "Ha――ah." Strength departs from my body. The body that was so hot starts to cool down. The sword is disappearing from the tip.

"―――――" I watch it absent-mindedly. We stand next to each other, holding the same sword until it disappears completely.

――Wind blows through the forest clearing.

Neither the howling that shook the ground nor the blows that cut the air remain now. "So that is your sword, Saber." The undefeatable giant becomes motionless and says so in a deep voice, gazing at the knight that defeated him.

"This is Caliburn… the sword from the stone of selection. My sword that was forever lost. But――" "That was not your sword. That was only an illusion made by this man." Saber nods quietly.

"It was an imitation after all. It is a sword that will never exist again. But still――" Berserker's chest splits open. Slowly. From the wound made by that light, he crumbles away like sand.

"――That illusion cannot be underestimated. I did not expect it to destroy my body seven-fold with a single blow." He puts no emotion into his dying words. The mad warrior follows his role until the very end, and his existence disperses as if fading into the air.

I feel dizzy. It must be the cost of using such excessive magic. My blood that ran wild is crushing my brain with too much oxygen. …And on top of that, I have a headache like my head is splitting open. It's because the enemy has disappeared and the thing numbing my pain has disappeared. The dizziness and the headache come at me as if to make up for what has accumulated.

"――!" "Shirou…!?" Saber supports my collapsing body. But she can't have any energy to spare to care for me.

"…No, I'm fine. My bones are broken here and there, but it's not fatal. That healing thing is working, so it'll be fine." "――What are you saying? You used projection magic of that level, so you must rest right now." "…No, but…" There's someone I have to talk to first.

"……" "Ilyasviel…!" Saber prepares herself. Ilya is staring at the place where Berserker used to be with empty eyes.

"…Good. I do not know your intentions, but we would not wish the trouble of chasing you. Accept your――"

"…! No, Saber――don't hurt Ilya. Since Berserker's gone, she's…" I stop Saber with my remaining strength.

She must not realize we're here. Staring at the ground, Ilya murmurs, "…No way. Did you die, Berserker…?" She sounds like an abandoned child.

"…Ilya." I restrain Saber with my hand and quietly call out to her. She must have noticed me from that. Ilya slightly raises her head and… "Ah―――n, ahh…!" Suddenly. Falls to the ground like a doll being switched off.

"Wha――?" I don't know what's going on. I just stare at the girl on the ground. "…Gah, gohu…!" As if to replace her, Tohsaka gets up. Berserker's hand has disappeared and it seems she's finally free.

"―――――" I must have relaxed seeing Tohsaka's safety. I feel like I'm about to faint.

But I can't whine like that. Even though we defeated Berserker, we're still in the forest. We have to push our wounded bodies and get out of this forest now.

…I look up at the dawning sky. The town is far away, and I cannot find any uninjured allies nor any place on my own body that's not hurt. But still, we made it to the morning. ――The night I was prepared not to live through. After driving off the greatest enemy, we leave the winter forest.

The sky is thin. Is it dawn or dusk? As I am watching from outside, I cannot tell.

A vast sky and a high field. A sky that seems unreachable even with arms outstretched, And clouds that do seem reachable with arms outstretched. This is a battle she once went through.

There are no cavalry alongside. The grassland, once golden as far as the eye could see, is gone. Under the dark gray sky, the only thing stretching out is…

The remains of battle, which she is well-accustomed to.

There is no emotion. For her, such scenes must have been ordinary. There is nothing left in her lonely heart. Leaning on her golden sword, she breathes deeply once and slowly relaxes her shoulders.

The battle must be over. After glancing at the bodies of the defeated soldiers, she returns to her camp. That was the battle she experienced. The calm attitude is the same as now. No matter what trouble she's in, she is just as I know her.

――And in that way, I see the dream of a king.

From the moment she drew the sword from the stone, she was not human. After becoming a feudal lord like her father, she became a king with many knights. She was called King Arthur, or Arturia, and the girl who had tried to become a knight had her life turned around.

She acted as the son of the king. That is because the one to govern many territories and control the knights had to be male. The only ones who knew that the king was just a girl were her father and the magus. She literally covered herself in steel and sealed that truth for all her life.

Of course, it's not like no one grew suspicious of her. But the king of knights with the holy sword will not suffer wounds or age. Excalibur bears the protection of the fairies, making its possessor immortal. Therefore, nobody questioned the knight's small body, and the face that seemed like that of a girl became honored by the knights as a good-looking king.

――Of course, such things were not a problem. The king was truly invincible. There was no room for body size nor looks to enter into it. The people living in fear of savage invasions wanted a strong king, and the knights of the battlefield would only follow an excellent commander.

The king met all of these criteria. And so――no one questioned who the king was. It doesn't matter if the king is a child or a woman. The only point is that it must function as the "king" to protect the country.

The new king was fair and selfless, and always stood in front of the army, defeating enemies on the battlefield. Many enemies and many people died, but the king's choices were always correct and she served as the "king" better than anyone else. There was no doubt and no need for doubt while the king was right.

Knowing no loss on the battlefield. Her army reconstructed the now lost cavalry, and literally ran through the battlefield defeating foreign infantries and crashing through numerous ramparts.

Was she always in the front of the army because her country was behind her?

She had to discard many people to join battle.

As long as she joined battle, she had to defeat all her enemies.

It was normal practice to meet military needs by sucking everything out of the local village for the battle to protect the country.

In that regard, there could not be any knights that killed more people than her.

I do not know if she ever found that a burden. That is not something I can tell from a dream. But there is no doubt in her figure, running through the battlefield. She does not even narrow her eyes in grief when she sits on the throne.

A king is not human. One cannot protect the people with human emotions.

She kept that oath strictly. She settled every problem and worked hard in government affairs. She balanced the country without any deviations and punished people without a single mistake.

And after ending yet another battle in victory, commanding the people without disorder, and punishing hundreds of criminals… "King Arthur does not understand human feelings." A knight close to her murmured.

Perhaps everyone felt that way. The more perfect she became as the king, the more they questioned her as a ruler. A person without human emotion cannot rule over others. Several reputable knights left Camelot, but the king took it as a natural event and accepted it as part of the process of government.

Thus, the fair king honored by her knights isolated herself.

But such trivial things are of no concern to a king. Her mind will not change even if she is abandoned, feared, or betrayed. There's no right or wrong. She abandoned her emotions from the moment she decided to pull out the sword.

――And in that way, her final battle began.

The battle at Badon Hill ended in a complete victory, and because of the overwhelming results, the savages sought a reconciliation. The country that would have just awaited destruction earned a brief period of peace. The chaos that demanded an absolute hero has ended. Britain is finally returning to the country she has dreamed of.

…The scene starts to fade away. Somewhere in my head, I realize that I'm waking up and the dream is ending. I will lose consciousness and wake up soon.

But before that, something really annoys me. …She's stupid. Certainly, she must have been strong and good at fighting. But that doesn't mean she's well-suited for it.

I'm also angry at the people around her. If she didn't notice it, someone else around her had to tell her, or she'd keep making the same mistake forever. …Geez. She had so many people around her, so why did none of them tell her the truth――?

"―――――" I wake up. ――We escaped Ilya's forest and came back to this house yesterday afternoon. Tohsaka went back to her room saying that the wound in her stomach was hurting, and I also wanted to go to sleep since my headache was still around.

It must also have been because I carried something heavy all the way here. When I got to my room and lay down, I couldn't even get back up. Saber was the only one unhurt, so Tohsaka and I went to sleep letting her keep watch over the house, and――

"…I've slept half the day, huh? …Hmm. At least it seems my headache is gone now. I'm relieved. The thing with Berserker. The headache that started when I duplicated Saber's sword was terrible. If that headache continued, my head would have broken before my body did.

――Wait. "Huh――?" Saber is sitting Japanese-style beside my futon.

"… Sa… ber…? Why the sad face? Did something happen while I was asleep?" "…No. I just had a dream." "…?"

"…No, it is nothing important. Let us eat breakfast, Shirou. It is almost time to get up." Saber gets up and leaves the room quietly.

"…?" I don't know why Saber's acting so weird. I don't know, but――

"…I guess she was nursing me since she was sitting by my futon――" As soon as I think so, I recall the scene I really shouldn't remember.

"…! No, what am I thinking…! Don't think about it…!" I shake my head and clear the thoughts out of my head. …Um, I did it with Saber because I'm her Master. I have to think like that or I won't be able to look at her properly.

"…And the situation was that bad… and Tohsaka did it too…" …! Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on…! This won't end if I start being conscious of Tohsaka too…!

"――Stay calm, stay calm. We were acting normal on our way home yesterday. That should be fine."

Well, no, I was just too tired yesterday, but stay calm anyways. …First of all, Saber will be troubled if I act like this.

"――All right. I have to calm down and go make breakfast." I take a deep breath and start changing. It's nine in the morning. Saber must be really hungry as we haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon.

I guess you can't call it morning now that it's past nine. Considering Saber, I'll make a fairly large meal.

"Shirou. We are the only ones this morning. Should we not wake Rin up?"

"No, they should sleep, right? It was a hard day yesterday, so there's no need to wake them up. They can eat whenever they want to if we leave their meals out."

"I see. Then it will be helpful if you can start preparing soon. It is already late." "I know. I feel well, so let's go to the dojo after the meal."

"What…? Go to the dojo? Are you still going to continue your training…!?" "Why not? It's a daily routine, right?"

"What's wrong, Saber? Did I say something strange?" "Um, no… um, I selfishly thought that you were done with your training. I thought there was no reason for you to be so desperate now that Berserker is defeated…"

"――I see. When you put it like that, you may be right." Tohsaka, and Saber, and I… our common enemy is now gone. We cooperated because we were targeted by an enemy superior to us, and that's why I trained as well.

"But we'll continue our training. I'm still inexperienced and you're honest when you hold your sword. That's a big help for me when I talk to you." Well, when I say it's a help, I mean it's fun.

"…Um? I am honest in the dojo?"

"You are. At least, you're not hesitant. That's better for me, and I think it's relaxing for you as well. Anyways, fighting with you is my daily routine. Don't take away the few pleasures I have."

I take ground beef and pork, mushroom, onion, and eggs out of the refrigerator and head to the kitchen. I'll also need breadcrumbs, alcohol, salad oil, and….

"…Hmm. In that case, I have no objections." "…?" Saber murmurs something in the living room. I'm already in the kitchen, so I unfortunately couldn't hear her.

I start mixing. I mix onion, breadcrumbs, alcohol, egg, and salt, and put it in with the beef and pork. I've decided to cook Japanese-style hamburger for breakfast.

"Rin? Have you awoken?" I can hear Saber's voice from the living room. "Tohsaka?" I turn around while cooking.

"…Morning. Sorry, let me have some milk, Shirou." Tohsaka comes over with an unhappy face and takes some milk out of the refrigerator.

"Gah, my head hurts from sleeping too much… Hey, you sure are putting a lot of effort into breakfast." Where did that bad mood from earlier go? Tohsaka Rin's eyes gleam as soon as she turns to me.

"Wow, that looks good. I'm hungry so that's really helpful." I see. But you're the one that benefits, not me. This must be what my father said… for someone to benefit, someone must lose.

"…I've thought so for a while, but you're pretty sharp." "Oh, I'm only normally witted. So prepare some for me too."

Waving her hand, Tohsaka returns to the living room. With a glass of milk in one hand, she takes position at the table. …No. Should I say she's really relaxing or acting like royalty?

"You are acting quite lazily, Rin." All right, way to go Saber. She sure is good at saying difficult things. But… Tohsaka waves off Saber's criticism lazily like she doesn't care.

"Of course I'm getting lazy. Now that Berserker is gone, all that's left are Caster, Lancer, and Assassin, right? They aren't much compared to Berserker, and they can easily be fought off in Saber's present condition."

"――I do not know. Lancer's Master is still a mystery, and Assassin is not an enemy that can be defeated by ordinary methods. And we have not even met Caster yet."

"Don't be modest. A normal hero is an easy opponent for King Arthur, right? You were grieving because you didn't have enough magical energy, but that's solved now. There's no Servant now that can match you, Saber." "――"

Saber narrows her eyes at Tohsaka's words. …I feel the same way. The thing Tohsaka just said can't be ignored lightly.

"――Tohsaka. You knew who Saber was?"

"Vaguely. I only confirmed it yesterday. There's only one hero who can use such a holy sword. …Well, I was surprised that the legendary King Arthur is a girl, but if the real thing is in front of me, all I can do is believe it."

"And legends usually are conveniently altered, right? I don't know if Saber hid it or the people around her hid it, but it certainly wasn't convenient for a girl to be a king in the medieval times. Of course they'd treat her as a man."

Tohsaka has the same tone of voice as always. Saber doesn't seem to care that much either. She rather seems to be agreeing with Tohsaka's opinion and shows no sign of denying anything.

"……" So she has clearly admitted that it's true. A hero related to swords is chosen for the Servant Saber. From that perspective, she is certainly the best Saber there could be.

The great hero of England. The bearer of the holy sword that everybody even in this distant country has heard of.

…But if that's the case, then what? The end of the legend of King Arthur ends with the king's death. No, they are still human even though they are heroes. It's only natural for their last moment to end in death, but no hero dies normally. King Arthur was no exception.

I remember that the end of King Arthur was in a war. The great battle of Camlann. Having unified Britain and with no outside enemies to defeat, King Arthur faced an unexpected "enemy" in the end.

The enemy was her own army that she protected. Because of a betrayal by the ones she trusted, King Arthur was attacked by the knights she had fought with, and it is said that the king had to defeat them.

King Arthur succeeded in defeating the enemy leader, but took a fatal wound in the process and entrusted her only surviving knight, Sir Bedivere, with the return of the holy sword. "Go past this bloody battlefield and the hill. There should be a lake there. Throw this sword into that lake."

But Bedivere could not follow the order. Fearing the loss of the sword, Bedivere gave a false report the first and the second time, saying that he had thrown the sword into the lake.

Every time, King Arthur would order Bedivere to throw the sword away, and the order was followed on the third trip. And it is said that King Arthur died after ascertaining that the holy sword had been returned.

"But anyway, what are you going to do now, Shirou?" ――And then. Tohsaka suddenly glares at me.

"Um… about――what now?" "About that dangerous child, who's asleep right now. You're the one who brought her here, even though I told you to leave her behind."

"I would like to comment on that as well. Even though she has lost Berserker, Ilyasviel is a dangerous Master. It is not a wise decision to protect her now." "Yeah. You can just leave her in Kirei's care."

"Ugh――" The two judge this a good time and glare at me together. …That's right. Ilya fainted after Berserker disappeared. I couldn't just leave her be since she showed no sign of waking up, so I brought her here.

Tohsaka and Saber objected, so I was the one who carried her. A Master who loses their Servant has to run away or go to the church for protection before they're killed by other Masters. Tohsaka says we should let Kotomine take care of her, but I'm letting her sleep in a room here since I don't think he would take very good care of her――

"Shirou. Your thoughts are honorable, but it is dangerous to associate yourself with Ilyasviel. You still have time. You must let the church take care of her or remove her Command Spell."

Saber glares at me. …Hm. She's serious. Convincing her will be really difficult.

"W-What? We couldn't just leave her. Ilya is still a child, and she was acting strangely too. And I'd feel sorry just leaving her in Kotomine's care."

"Feel sorry? How can you say that after what she did to us!?" "I agree. You feel too much empathy for Ilyasviel. She tried to kill you many times."

The two are even more united now. But I can't let them talk me out of it.

"Ilya was certainly our enemy, but she didn't have any malice. Ilya won't do that sort of thing again if there's someone there to tell her what's right. And I think I said this at the beginning. I'm not fighting to kill other Masters. I'm just fighting to end this war."

"I――know that, but…" Saber doesn't agree, but her voice softens.

But.

"I see. Then you're saying you'll forgive everything Ilyasviel did? I'm sure you know she has attacked other Masters as well. She might have killed several Masters already. You're saying you'll save her in spite of that?"

"――Tha… t's…" …That's right. Ilya admitted it. She killed Shinji.

Shinji used Rider to try to kill the students at school. If those were his intentions as a Master, I guess his death couldn't be helped. …But still, Shinji is a friend I've known for years and thinking about his sister, Sakura, I can't forgive everything Ilya did.

"――But then, there would be no end to it. If Ilya isn't a Master and if she can regret what she did, I think we should save her."

"…Yeah, that's right. But Shirou, I have no intention of forgiving her for Archer. She killed my Archer."

…Everybody freezes. We freeze, looking at each other. And,

"Come on, Servants disappear in the end anyway. You're a failure as a Master if you worry about that sort of a thing." The girl under discussion, who should be asleep, appears.

"――Ilyasviel…!"

"Hold on, I have no business with you two. I don't intend to fight, so can you two stop being angry? …Really, I'm embarrassed as a lady. You're much older than me, but you two have no modesty."

Ilya shrugs her shoulders as if to show her shock. "W-What…!?" Saber and Tohsaka get mad together. They are scarier in a different sense.

"Well, I won't get angry about that either. This is no time to worry about you two." Saying that, Ilya turns to me. …Is this an illusion? Ilya pinches the end of her skirt in a polite manner and bows to me respectfully.

"Uh――Ilya?" "I thank you, Master of Saber. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your concern towards me, who was your enemy."

"Ah――uh?" I stare at Ilya in surprise. Saber is silent as well, so she might not have expected it either. Tohsaka is drinking milk and looking at Ilya suspiciously.

――And then. Ilya gives her usual smile and… "Just kidding. Yeah, Shirou is my Onii-chan!" She comes straight for me and hugs my neck.

"Gofu…!?" I choke at the surprise attack. "W-WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?" Tohsaka is choking on the milk she's drinking. "――――――――!" Saber gets mad, but keeps a straight face.

"G-Get away, you impudent…!" Saber runs to me. But Ilya spins around behind me, using my neck as a fulcrum.

"Heh, who's the impudent one? A Servant is a hundred years too early to give me her opinion." "I have no obligation nor desire to obey you…! If you have time to talk back, get away from Shirou right away…!"

"I'm not listening to you. Hey Shirou, let's do the thing we did yesterday. It's called a piggy-back ride, right!?" Ilya twirls and twirls. Saber goes around to try to catch her.

"―――――" This is bad. This is really bad.

The two's staredown doesn't end. …It must be because she's watching from a distance. Tohsaka wipes the milk off her mouth as if nothing is happening and says in a disinterested manner,

"It's of no concern to me, but he'll die if you keep that up." "Huh…?" The two look at my face in surprise.

Yes. My neck is being choked and my life's in danger. I'm in a real pinch right now――

Well, let's check the current situation. The hamburger I was making is in the refrigerator right now.

First, Tohsaka is the quiet one. It seems she's keeping a poker face and trying to see how things turn out, but who knows what she's thinking on the inside.

"Hm? What, Shirou?" Ilya is sitting next to me, and she's in a good mood for some reason. She's looking around the living room curiously, but it seems like Tohsaka and Saber are none of her concern. She probably wouldn't listen even if they talked to her.

And the hardest one to deal with is… "―――――" Saber, who is glaring restlessly at me and Ilya.

Being restless and uneasy is totally unlike her. Because of her, I feel like I'm sitting on a cushion full of needles. …So I can't let things stay like this. I don't know what will come out of this, but I have to make up my mind and escape the current situation.

"――Let's decide. Morning will end if we keep on like this."

"Yeah. The conclusion is decided, and the problem needs to be taken care of quickly. Isn't that right, Saber?" "Yes. My opinion and Rin's are the same, so all we need to do is make Shirou agree…"

Saber is ready to fight it out to the very end. …Well, I guess it can't be helped since Ilya was the most difficult enemy for Saber.

"…? Hey Shirou. What do Rin and Saber want to talk about?" Ilya asks me innocently.

"Uh… well. Um, about what to do with you. You lost your Servant, right? So we're wondering what you're going to do now."

"It's already decided. We have the church protect her or kick her back to her castle. Either way, she doesn't have the option of staying here."

"…Do you think so too, Shirou?" Ilya looks up at me with emotionless eyes. I――

#votestaynight #fate #fate stay/night #fate route

[brownskinallure]

Sistahhhhhhh

Sisterhood is a bond like no other. It’s a connection that is forged from birth and lasts a lifetime. With my two sisters, I share laughter, tears, secrets, fights, makeup, clothes, and everything in between. Even when we don’t see eye to eye, we’re still there for each other. I can’t imagine my life without them.

Growing up, my sisters were my best friends. We formed an unbreakable bond that kept us together through thick and thin. We went through all of life’s milestones together - from school to college, from relationships to jobs, from weddings to babies.

We were there for each other, always. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that not everyone has that same bond with their sisters. Some people have sisters they don’t talk to, or sisters who they’re constantly at odds with. I don’t understand it. How is it possible to hate or be jealous of your own sister? For me, sisterhood is a source of strength. It’s a reminder that no matter what happens, I have a support network that will always be there for me.

When I’m feeling down, my sisters are there to lift me up. When I’m celebrating, they’re there to join in the fun. We’re a team, and we’re stronger together. I know not everyone has experienced that kind of sisterhood, and I’m grateful every day that I have.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t create it for yourself. Whether you have biological sisters or not, you can find women in your life who will support you, lift you up, and be there for you - whether you’re right, wrong, or indifferent. The bottom line is this: sisterhood is powerful. It’s a bond that binds us together, and it’s something that cannot be broken.

So if you have sisters, cherish them. And if you don’t, find women who you can call sisters. Because together, we are stronger.

#black tumblr #encouragement #healing #self help #my heart #emotional intelligence #sister #tumblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #creative writing #writing community #inspiring quotes #sisterhood

[calechipconecrimes]

sources and my opinion of you under the cut

little lion man by mumford & sons - you fucked up big time and you should probably make it up to them. go say you're sorry

willard! by will wood - you have the weight of the world on your shoulders rn. that's not healthy. relax

how far we've come by matchbox 20 - you're missing someone or something hard. go to therapy

separate ways (worlds apart) by journey - angsty loverperson. lol. i hope it works out for you

st. bernard by lincoln - you have nothing to prove. take a deep breath and let it go

natural by imagine dragons - you might be feeling like you have no autonomy. if so, remember that every choice you make is your own and no one can tell you what to make of yourself

hayloft ii by mother mother - who hurt you and can i help you hurt them back

against the kitchen floor by will wood - ough. i feel this one. take a moment if you need to remind yourself that you are loved

thermodynamic lawyer, esq. GFD by will wood - you mad bro? calm down it's just a game bro

hold me down by the happy fits - okay loverperson. maybe don't float away. lmao.

song titles are in green and artist names are in red for visibility

#calechip asks #cale's mixtape #mumford and sons #little lion man #will wood #willard! #against the kitchen floor #thermodynamic lawyer #thermodynamic lawyer esq gfd #matchbox 20 #how far we've come #journey #separate ways (worlds apart) #lincoln #st. bernard #imagine dragons #natural #mother mother #hayloft ii #the happy fits #hold me down #kinda arophobic (/j) how some of the lyrics couldn't fit but we keep ballin

[skyward-floored]

you said something about an essay about the doppels? 👀

I have so many thoughts and a big theory in particular that haunts me about the doppels, which I’ll try to condense into something readable but no guarantees because I’ve got lots of thoughts about em.

SO doppels are, as said by the Doppel Master (guy who activates them for you), “no ordinary wooden dolls.” Rather they’re sacred dolls that serve as a vessel for a hero’s soul, allowing you (Link) to vacate your body and take over theirs.

Creepy.

Especially when you listen to the Doppel Master “bind them to your will” (he actually says that), which involves shaking his staff and creepy chanting and then a bloodcurdling scream. After which they light up and Link is able to throw his soul around in between the three bodies (which I’m sure had no negative consequences at all).

But they’re just inanimate dolls, so all of this is much less creepy then it would be if they were, say... actual people.

Theory time!

All throughout the game you hear over and over about the Legendary Tri Force Heroes, who saved Hytopia in a time long ago and all displayed the three attributes of courage... those being pointed ears, thick sideburns, and side parted hair (that smells of lavender and friendship kgdjhdj). They’re also said to have an unbreakable bond, so much that they’re able to communicate without words.

But anyways, it’s never really said what exactly became of these heroes, only that they came from parts unknown and saved the land in a time long ago. The only clue we have of them is the statue in the middle of Hytopia showing their likenesses, which is rather stylized.

And yeah they look like the Links, but you know what else they look like?

...the doppels.

It’s never said who created the doppels, how exactly they’re made, or even where they came from. You’re just told you can use them, with very little explanation.

And while it’s possible the doppels were merely created to resemble the original Tri Force heroes, the sheer wrongness that the entire deal with activating and using them emits, as well as them being “sacred” dolls, makes me think there’s more to it.

Like maybe... the doppels are the original Tri Force heroes?

Now wait, you’re probably thinking, there’s only two doppels, which means that if they are the original Tri force heroes, they’re missing a guy.

Which is true, except there is a third one. He just isn’t in the castle with the others anymore.

The doppels aren’t allowed to leave the hall they’re in, except for going to the drablands. In fact, if you try to walk out as one of them then you get yelled at by the guard by the door and are firmly refused exit, unless you return to your original body and leave that way.

Why don’t they want the doppels taken out of the hall? What’s the big deal? Is the Doppel Master afraid of losing one?

Is he afraid of losing another one?

Maybe instead of being just empty husks they really are people, trapped, or cursed? Maybe there’s a way to break it, from the outside, but also a way to momentarily break free yourself from the inside?

Maybe one of them already tried?

Now I don’t know why or how they’d end up as doppels, or who would do something like that to anyone, no less beloved heroes (someone with a jealous grudge? Evil magician?) and I doubt most of the people of Hytopia, (including the king and princess) have any clue about the situation, but it’s something I think about every darn time I play this game.

#a lot of this is just guessing but it IS fun to think about #seriously though look up the guy activating the doppels the scream is rather disturbing #legend of Zelda #tri force heroes #answers from the floor #rambles from the floor #telemna hyelle my beloved #also heehoo I’ve got oneshots planned about this #some set after the game hehehe #*rubs hands together maniacally*

[ayreri]

I really enjoy referring to first names and last names as given names and family names, respectively

the family name is the name that is automatically assigned to you when you were born or found. it signifies you are part of a collective (no matter how close one actually feels towards this greater body). some people change or extend their last name to signify a change in loyalties. it's cute

the given name is the name that was given to you by your parents or guardian after your birth. it is a gift. most people cherish this gift

but a given name implies the existence of chosen names, a gift that you pick out for yourself. people who like their given name will usually choose to continue using this name, or select a nickname to compliment it. then there those who lock this given name in a box to only be shared with those worthy of this sacred or forbidden knowledge, choosing to go by something different as a chosen name. there are those who hate their given name and chose to discard it and only ever identify with their chosen name. and sometimes the given name is just so worn out and damaged, you have to go get a new name. can't use it anymore. it has served its purpose and had a good run

names are so flexible. as of late, I quite detest the idea of true names. a name that cannot be changed or be rid of. like the given name is some kind of brand or curse. no! the given name is a gift! at least, it's suppose to be. there are surely given names out there that weren't considered and bestowed with love, hope, or practicality. by why you gotta use it to like bind me to some unbreakable contract. that's dumb. and what if I get married and change my name? you saying that I'm not going to etch my love into my identity, huh? then what's more true, what I had five years ago or what I have now? you call that fair folk law but there's nothing fair about that!!

#its 1 am help i need to sleep

[myfrenzi]

Binge-Worthy Web Series for the Weekend: Your Ultimate Watchlist

Are you ready to kick back, relax, and immerse yourself in the captivating world of web series? Whether you're looking for a thrilling mystery, heartwarming romance, or mind-bending science fiction, we've got you covered. In this article, we've curated a list of binge-worthy web series that are perfect for your weekend entertainment. Plus, we'll guide you on where to watch webseries online. So, grab your popcorn and get ready for a binge-fest like no other!

Mind-Bending Mysteries

1. "Dark"

Prepare to be enthralled by the enigmatic world of "Dark." This German series explores the complexities of time travel, family secrets, and the impact of our decisions. With its intricate plot and mesmerizing cinematography, it's a must-watch for fans of sci-fi mysteries.

2. "Stranger Things"

Uncover the supernatural mysteries of the fictional town of Hawkins with "Stranger Things." Set in the 1980s, this series follows a group of friends as they encounter government experiments, parallel dimensions, and a girl with psychokinetic abilities.

Heartwarming Dramas

3. "This Is Us"

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster with "This Is Us." Follow the lives of the Pearson family as they navigate love, loss, and the intricate connections that bind them together. Be prepared to shed a tear or two!

4. "The Crown"

Step into the world of royalty with "The Crown." This historical drama chronicles the reign of Queen Elizabeth II, delving into the personal and political challenges she faces throughout her rule.

Laugh-Out-Loud Comedies

5. "Brooklyn Nine-Nine"

If you're in need of a good laugh, "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" is here to deliver. Follow the hilarious detectives of the 99th precinct as they solve crimes, engage in witty banter, and form unbreakable friendships.

6. "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel"

Indulge in the comedic brilliance of "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel." Set in the 1950s, this series follows Miriam Maisel as she transforms from a housewife to a stand-up comedian, navigating the challenges of a male-dominated industry.

Epic Fantasy Adventures

7. "Game of Thrones"

Embark on a journey to the fictional continents of Westeros and Essos with "Game of Thrones." This epic fantasy series is a tale of power, politics, and the battle for the Iron Throne, filled with complex characters and shocking twists.

8. "The Witcher"

Satisfy your craving for supernatural adventures with "The Witcher." Based on a book series, this show follows Geralt of Rivia, a monster hunter, as he navigates a world filled with beasts, sorcery, and moral dilemmas.

Where to Watch Web Series Online

Looking for a convenient way to access these amazing web series? You're in luck! You can find them on popular streaming platforms such as Netflix, Amazon Prime Video, Hulu, and HBO Max. Each platform offers a free trial period, so you can start your binge-watching journey without any hassle.

Conclusion

And there you have it – a curated list of binge-worthy web series to keep you entertained all weekend long. Whether you're in the mood for mystery, drama, comedy, or fantasy, these shows have something for everyone. So, grab your favorite blanket, get cozy, and dive into these captivating worlds. Happy binge-watching!

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

1. Can I watch these web series for free?

While some platforms offer free trial periods, most web series are available through subscription-based streaming services.

2. Are these shows suitable for all ages?

Each web series has its own rating and target audience. Make sure to check the content rating before watching.

3. How can I decide which series to start with?

Consider your preferences – if you enjoy mysteries, start with "Dark" or "Stranger Things." If you prefer comedy, give "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" a try.

4. Is there a way to download episodes for offline viewing?

Yes, many streaming platforms allow you to download episodes and watch them offline.

5. Can I share my account with family and friends?

Most platforms offer multiple user profiles under one account, so you can share the experience with your loved ones.

[undercat-overdog]

So I’ve been thinking about how Celebrimbor’s story is not a Feanorian one. If anything, it’s the opposite of the story of Feanor and his sons.

But you know who is the Second Age Feanorian? Sauron. It’s Sauron.

#feanorian critical #or maybe not idk #i like sauron a lot after all #but binding yourself to something unbreakable #betraying friends #murdering people who you were in a society with #piece by piece cutting away everything that made you good till you are nothing but cruel naked hunger #and for nothing #it all comes to naught #you could have done so much you could have been a blessing to the world #and instead you ended the world of so many people #each death as whole and final as the next #not that the feanorians approach sauron's evil quantitatively #but the type of fall? #how at each point you choose to make yourself worse and worse? #sauron and maedhros died the same death #lost to the fires of the earth #meta #mostly in the tags #sons of feanor #sauron

[littlefreya]

August’s Box of Mystery

Summary: He left you all alone in his great castle by the sea and requested that you shan't touch yourself... can you keep your loyalty?

Prompted by @gotnofucks: “How do you feel August would react to knowing his girl uses sex toys when he is away? Would he feel jealous? Angry? Turned on?More importantly, what does he do? 👀”

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (No description of ethnicity or body type)

Words: 3k

Warning: 18+, smut + romance and fluff in the end. Female masturbation with a sex toy, voyeurism, sex-tape, cockwarming, mildly rough unprotected sex, breeding, breeding as punishment if to be exact, slight denial, MaleDom, creampie, a lot of it. Read the warnings properly, please. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts it and claiming it as your own.

A/N: I am anxious about this one and hope you’ll enjoy, i’ve been rather influenced by Angela Carter writings. Many thanks to @the-soot-sprite @wondersofdreaming for feedback and @agniavateira for her review. Added notes and credits in the end!

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

August’s Box of Mystery 

Outside the bedroom window, the waves roared in a tempest's rage. Torrent after torrent, the sea unleashed brutal tentacles onto the salty iron rocks in a keen, vindictive urge to dismantle them to nought. 

It was your own unruly longing that the ocean sensed: forlorn and listless, lying on your bed, the blue mist cloaking your heart. 

August's sea-fort was a gilded cage. He had given you everything: diamonds brighter than the moon, sheets made of the softest golden silk, and even a ring to bind you to his unbreakable siege. 

His only demand was that you will always wait for him, not only by flesh but soul as well. Despite his dark ambitions, trust and loyalty were qualities August valued beyond anything else.   

But soon, you grew tired of watching the reflection of the tides refract upon the naked ceiling. A woman with fire for blood, you were forever tormented by your sultry nature and daydreams of that would make the devil blush.

Frustration gnawed at your bawls until—enough! You shot up from your bed—a storm of silky linen whirling around you like Venus emerging from spume on shore; and just as the goddess of love and beauty, you too yearned to be penetrated. Nibbling your nails, you glanced at the open door, your mind seeing beyond thick walls into his office where he kept a chest filled with illicit delights. 

Every now and then—when August's muse struck—he would bring one of his toys to the bedroom, but you weren’t allowed to play on your own. 

Body. 

Soul. 

‘Certainly, August won’t be able to tell if I would be careful?’ You hoped and followed the oceanic breeze hymning from the corridors.

Sand stuck to your bare feet, the wooden planks gently wept beneath your stride. Tipping on your toes, you snuck into his cavernous study, the key stolen from his nightstand already seized between shaky fingers. Though August was absent, your heart thrummed with ire upon setting foot onto the furry rug, as if he was to appear behind you at any given moment.

It was a room that reeked of debaucheries of all kinds: "borrowed" works of art depicting naked nymphs adorned the cherry-wood shelves, divine entities hung onto the wainscoting, and trophies he kept from his victims were encased in a fancy vitrine. Even the slate-blue view felt different from this spot; the rocky piers seemed like a pathway to a marine graveyard.

You paid no mind. You knew who you married and gained nothing but ethereal bliss whenever August fucked you against the window for the shark and whales to see. 

Like a girl crawling into the rabbit’s hole, you took half a twirl. There, below the large monitor plastered to the wall, stood the locked chest. Black and gold roses ornamented its exterior and a trident crest was engraved on the lock. Only a fool would overlook such blatant temptation, and though you were no foolish girl, you were feeble at the face of seduction. 

Falling to your knees, you made haste to unlock the chest, your heart drumming in your ears with the notion that you defied the words of your strenuous lover. But the same muscle that pumped you with fear, pounded wickedness into your blood. 

If only you were blessed with a shred of your husband’s patience.

All the toys inside were placed in order, sanitised, and appropriately boxed in such fashion that you knew August would notice if something was misplaced. The man had the capability of finding an eyelash on the carpet. Still, unrelenting desire strung the cunning finger you ran over the loot, carefully picking one of the familiar vibrators he used on you before. 

'Here?'  

Standing at the centre of his tidy office you contemplated, suddenly aware of how the room leaked of his entity; scented notes of old leather binding and his woodsy cologne threatened to adhere to your skin, making this mischief taste like a crime. It was best to keep all disobedient whims in an isolated location, you assumed and allowed your eyes to further drift and glide upon the large monitor and the antique desk where August kept the remote. An abrupt wicked idea swam into your mind, reminding you of his private collection. 

Catalogued alphabetically, he kept them on his streaming device. 

'It should make things quick...' you convinced yourself whilst nibbling on your bottom lip. How worse could it be, anyway? You already rummaged through his chest. Taking a gander at his not-so-secret directory was puny in comparison. 

With your lungs in fists, you slipped your panties to your ankles and settled on the cosy leather chair in front of his desk. Ignoring the red flag waved by your anxiety, you reached for the remote and clicked the button. 

August made no effort to hide his recordings, simply naming the directory as "Films," as if it contained ordinary Hollywood blockbusters. Impatient, you scrolled down the list, trying to keep the jealousy from simmering in your bawls. August wedded you in this fort, but he never captured you on film like he did his girls. All lovers from the past, of course, but still it almost irked you; yet you brushed these concerns away and picked a file with the name you liked most and pressed “play”.

The ocean's lament was instantly swallowed by guttural howls and grunts that took every empty space within the chamber. Before your flaring eyes appeared the most forbidden of spectacles— your husband taking a different woman. It was odd to hear the familiar timbre of his groans laced with the voice of another. It was even stranger to sense the unmistakable spark of desire jittering in your cove.

Poseidon himself could not compete with the glory of the man, naked and drenched, all muscles and might. Furious, he took her on her knees, his fingers cradling her skull, pushing her head to the pillows while restraining her wrists above the small of her back. She wasn't you and still you clenched, aroused by the sight of the sweat glistening the fur of his torso and by the lack of mercy in the violent motion that ended with the dutiful grind of his sac against her swollen lips. 

You hadn't even realised how shamefully you dripped upon the oxen leather of the seat, your thoughts focused on the odd mixture of envy and lust that penetrated your blood. 

Desperate to unleash the monstrosity building within your core, you spread your legs over the desk and pressed the toy between your slippery petals. A shuddering whine rode your breath at the brush of the buzzing device, the pleasure so unimaginable it nearly drowned your senses. Gasping, you fought to maintain a hooded gaze upon your lover and his ‘whore,’ and imagined that the rosy silicon phallus that entered your anticipating hole was his swollen cock.

Your walls quickly clenched around the toy in true longing while the window trembled under the muffled rumbling of thunder. Perhaps your passions thickened the clouds. Or maybe it was the immoral streak of ecstasy laced by danger. Whichever it was, it urged you faster toward imminent bliss.

The other woman’s moans entwined with yours while your wayward hand mimicked the rhythm of bodies slamming together in the same frantic chaos that swept you.

Sweat-riddled, your ankles lost way across the smooth surface of the desk, leaving oily markings in a frenzy as climax drew close.  

‘Almost…’

‘Almost…’

‘So close…’  

‘August!’

"Enjoying yourself, my little princess?" 

Lightning painted the room bright purple, announcing the thunder that tore through the ocean. It wasn’t half as frightening as the low timbre of his voice, which cruelly withheld your ecstasy. The fervour in your veins turned glacial; one moment you ascended to the heavens and the next, got rejected at its golden gates. All the while the growls of his reflection on the monitor echoed through the chamber along with the buzzing toy still buried inside you.

It granted no pleasure now, but further stretched the guilt.

Calm and forebodingly stoic, August reached a curious hand between your quaking thighs, seizing the toy and flicking the switch off. Unable to lift your gaze to meet his severe face, you struggled to swallow and kept your eyes glued to the monitor. Yet, there was no escape from his reflection—the “real” him present in the room peered back at you through the glassy screen. Standing behind you, he etched his fingers around the headrest of the chair and tutted. 

“Do you like watching me with others, sweetling? Did this video make you wet?” he asked curiously.

Before any words formed on your quivering lips, his hand fell to your mound. An intrigued “hmm,” flowed from his throat as he found you overflowing with arousal. Like a whore, you couldn’t help but squirm into his touch, your body still enraged of being denied pleasure, and so was the sky that now threatened to turn the ocean upside down. 

You nearly gasped at the heavy patter of rain that began to hit the window. 

“I…”

“Disobeyed me,” he completed the sentence, his voice mellow and pleasant though the caress of his breath on your face burned.

“...missed you.”

Your attempt to pacify him did not go unnoticed. Lips stretching to a slanted grin, he dared to replace the toy with two fingers that drove inside your gaping hole—sensing how you wrapped and suckled around his long digits like a carnivore plant.

“Such a sweet gesture,” he retorted, “and still, my love, my dear wife who I’ve given everything to, has defied me like a lawless brat…unable to wait for her husband to return from his very important meetings.” His dainty fingers pumped crudely deeper, not to please you but remind you who you belonged to. 

Writhing in your seat, you fluttered your eyes shut. “Where were you?”

Ignoring your question, he leaned down, his lips mere inches from your ear and whispered, “I think it’s time I’ll tame my bratty woman for good, don’t you?” 

You shuddered to think what punishment he had in mind, your heart sinking to a dark pit at the deadly kiss he offered next to your ear; but then, he took your wrist and in a surprising tenderness guided you from the chair to bend over the desk. 

Predictably, the movie had run its course and started again from the beginning, her promiscuous moans and the pounding of their flesh stealing your attention for a split second. 

Having you at a disadvantage, August drew an invisible line from your spine to the curve of your behind, his fingers mimicking lines drawn on soaked sand. “All this sea salt in the air around us and your skin is still so tender,” he murmured lovingly and secured a hand around your nape, holding your head forward. 

It excited you to watch them before and now with his groin hot and hard against your bare crease you were nothing but craving his cock. 

“Is this going to hurt? Will you spank me? Treat me like that whore on your film?” you asked naively, smoothing your sweaty palms across the antique wood with dark anticipation. 

“No, my beautiful angel.” his belt clicked and dangled like a set of heavy keys of a warden toying with his captive, “You are not my whore, but my wife. Which is why I’m going to put my child in your reckless womb to end your wicked ways once and for all.”

A gasp of shock left your throat, dazed by his threat you turned to protest. But the air drowned in your chest and your entire body stiffened as August’s ‘leviathan’ split your succulent flesh. Vulgarly you were penetrated, his size stuffing you so deeply, you felt the aching pressure in the pit of your belly. 

August stilled for a moment, lingering at the sensation of your hot cove fitting around him in both a strenuous protest and the pathetic defeat in which your body seized the beast, milking it in an attempt to rope him into your womb forever. 

“Oh, my sweet wife, I will stretch your little cunt to sheath me that not even these toys will please you. You see, everything here belongs to me, even your defiant womb. And I will leave a piece in me there to teach you a lesson.”

“I don’t think I am ready!” You whined, but the thought of being bred and carrying his child made your cunt unwittingly twitch. Your canal sucked him even deeper if it was even possible.

August sensed your convulsion and growled, his hips pressed unfathomably tight against your rear, making your cheeks ache from the press of his bones. It was torture with the film playing right in front of you; falling into a lucid delirium, your mind replaced her with yourself, yet your August refused to move, withholding your pleasure, owning it, owning you. 

His cock anchored hot and thick inside you, its throb as powerful as the thunder hammering the ocean.

You wanted to cry.

“August, please! I need you! I missed you!” 

With a harsh pull, he drew back and bludgeoned your crease, his might so vulgar the tip of your toes levitated from the ground. Again, and then again… he grunted at the choke of your flesh around him. Paying you no courtesy, he shook and pounded you almost terrifyingly as meticulously as he did this woman. 

His fingers burnt around your waist, so harshly you thought you’d never be able to sense anything but his grip under your skin. 

“Oh!” fat tears rolled down your cheeks, your breath a wheeze. Piteously you crumbled onto the desk. Thunders, cries, sounds of rutting flesh, and grunts surrounded you in this cavern of sin; you didn’t know which were yours and which were from the recording. All you knew was that he never took you so zealously before, you were at the brink of either rapture or falling to the abyss.

“You’re too deep! Too rough!” you wailed, unable to adjust to his pace but truthfully you didn’t want him to slow down. Currents of bliss submerged your loins the rougher he fucked you. The hot tingle in your core stormed with every collision of his cock with your cervix.

August reached from your neck to your jaw then and held your face to the screen.

“You wanted to watch her while touching yourself. Do you want to be her?” he growled and increased the pace, splitting through your body the way Dagon ripped open the waves. 

Even if you had words, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. 

“You can never be her my darling,” August said and removed his hand from your hip. There was a quick drag of his drawer behind you and a rummaging sound. “Here, I’ll make us a short film; memorise this moment when you conceive me an heir.”

Struck by his words, you turned to stare. The sight of him behind you, inside you, was far more worthy than any film: sweat trickled down his messy curls and arduously strained face, his cerulean shirt damp and his mouth open as his fingers clutched the camera that was directed to the point where you were joint. 

Unrelenting, your orgasm flooded through every muscle like a wave of destruction that wrecked every organ within you until you felt nothing but bliss. You felt August’s heart beating in yours. 

There it was. Euphoria. 

You drowned in it. The maelstrom inside you swallowed and sank his ship as well. With a loud shout of surprise, he broke apart and erupted inside you, his creamy gift ploughing your womb until it overflowed and dripped down your quaking thighs. 

The rumbling from outside eased now, the clouded sky groaned with a release, their tears melding into the ocean never to be seen again.

August remained inside you, his breath thick, his hips gingerly grinding into yours to make sure his seed will take. 

“There you go, my special girl.” his voice came huskily. “Now you will never be alone, unlike these women I can’t even remember.”

Your hand instinctively snapped to your lower belly, soothingly caressing it in a reverie. You felt battered, full, and disgustingly and arousingly dirty as he swam inside you.

Yet the thought that he impregnated you made your heart flutter. 

Was there a more eternal symbolism of love than a legacy?

“August…” you whispered. Beneath you, the desk slightly shook, little tremors vibrated against the delicate pads of your fingers. Turning your head back, you offered him an enamoured glance and reached a hand in plea to lace fingers with his. 

His storm-kissed eyes softened and he broke into a sigh at the sight of his wife at her best submissive behaviour. The greatest of all delights was to refine a crude rock into a fine delicate diamond. Proudly, he took your hand in his, entangling your fingers together, yet he kept the video-camera aimed at your joint bodies. 

“Don’t move,” he breathed behind you and carefully pulled out his shaft from your flooded hole. A velvety chuckle played on his tongue, impressed by the wet plop and thickness of the cream that leaked off your entrance. Your cheeks burnt as you realised what he has done; your lips parted open to complain but then, with his cock already fully rigid and thick, he plugged you once more, shoving his seed back inside you.

“What are you doing?” 

“Waste not, my angel,” he tutted and remained still, brushing his knuckles up and down the curve of your rump.

“Oh, how long?” you whined, uncertain if you are capable of staying this way with him throbbing between your taut walls.

“Until the sky clear up?...” he suggested, voice haunted by lingering satisfaction. 

The waves of your previous orgasm were yet to ebb, and now stronger tides began to emerge. Frustration grew within once again and sadly, August’s will had the mettle of an anchor.  

“At least tell me where you were!” you yelped.

August scoffed, and wrapped his hands around your waist, only slightly guiding you back into his hips. “No, no, my love. Every marriage needs a little bit of mystery, as you’ve already learned. But now do me a favour,” he uttered and placed the remote next to your hand. 

“Play us another one? We might be here a while.”

Credits: Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Themes Inspired by Angela Carter’s Bloody Chamber. Leviathan inspired by @sillyrabbit81​!!

Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker or Mission Impossible.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

[cozymoko]

How would Sasuke and naruto react to when they get old and had children and their darling wants a divorce?And the the darling also wants the children

SASUKE UCHIHA

🍙 Divorce was never an option as he vaguely presented in your vows. You are bound until slowly taken into the embrace of death. Once devoting yourself, binding yourself to him Sasuke believes that bond is therefore unbreakable. If someone has even the slightest intention of shattering that their penalty will be dealt with accordingly.

🍙 The news was absolutely...shocking. Very few things genuinely surprise this man, this situation being one of them. To top it off the man can't even pinpoint the problem in your marriage. Outside of his controlling, possessive, and oh-so-jealous behavior what could

be the problem? Surely you were comfortable bearing his children, spending your time securely by his side as you remain under the rule of his every word. How delightful!

🍙 Kids were always something you wanted, something that made you happy. Sasuke loves his kids without a doubt but if he has them that means you can't leave. Insensitive of course sick undoubtedly. But if they'll make you stay or even look at him again then so be it. After all, the memory of coming back to a pair of hyperactive kids and his precious spouse is valuable in itself.

🍙 Simply will not settle for a life without you. A life where you will smile in another man's embrace, all while not even thinking about him or his wellbeing. A life where his kids will be raised by another individual is unacceptable. Sasuke's no fool; knowing the chances of seeing you and his kind once again will be slim to none is maddening. Whatever it takes to make your stay he shall do, whatever makes you smile at him he will do. My dear, It'd be best if you don't question the limits he's willing to go!

NARUTO UZUMAKI

🍜 A divorce? What are you talking about, if it's a joke stop it right now! Someone must have put you up to it, crammed your head with nonsense. Somewhere in his delusional mind, he mulls over your decision. Marking it up a misunderstanding even though it's far from that.

🍜 Will fall to his knees right where he stands, not being able to process this new information. "Hey...hey, {Name}, Y-you shouldn't joke like that y'know!" However, the look in your eyes showed you were more than serious. Surely a man of such high caliber could figure it out but he cannot. Once being blinded by love, a kind of love that was meant to be he simply cannot turn back. The warmth in his chest felt way too good, he was greedy for it. Perhaps that's where it went wrong.

🍜 Naruto adores his kids just as he does his beloved, it's a sign of love and progress in your relationship. Having them around brings him so much joy even as time is limited with his duties as the Hokage. To take them is worse than a thousand deaths. Even as man swords pierce through his skin, his blood soaks his clothes; nothing will ever compare to the pain of losing his family.

🍜 Naruto couldn't bear to live without you, he'd die without you! You are all he has, all he truly needs; the only one who makes him feel complete. Naruto rarely acts on his greedy thoughts as he understands that they're relatively unlawful. He's determined to prove himself to you and prove that you are meant to be!

#yandere x darling #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere hedacanons #yandere sasuke x reader #yandere sasuke #yandere naruto #sasuke imagines #sasuke x reader #yandere+sasuke+x+reader #yandere naruto x reader #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #yandere naruto headcanons #yandere naruto shippuden

[beardrabbles]

rock solid bonds.        pt. one

characters: zhongli, female reader, gimel ( geo hypostasis )

warnings: none

word count: 3,858 ( it’s LONG, y’all, sorry )

notes: first thing tossed into the genshin fandom is zhongli because i’m weak. so very weak. i know this idea is strange, but i’m running with it. this will have many parts, just not sure how many. anywho! :D hey. how’s it going? nice to meet’cha. oh!! also. i don’t have a beta reader, so there may be typos i’ve missed. oof.

You had made this trip several times before, and you assumed that this trip would be no different. You skirted around small packs of curious hilichurl, scooped up seashells from the many beaches you followed and swam through the clear, blue waters of Guyun Stone Forest until — finally — you reached the island you had been visiting over the course of several months.

The moment your water-logged feet touched solid ground rather than loose sand, you felt it — the faint traces of a low, constant vibration. It was a steady buzzing, except where the intensity would pulse every now and again, like a living heartbeat.

‘ It’s here, ’ you thought, ‘ good. ’

You hurried to rest against the crumbling wall of the ruins where the hypostasis often lingered, allowing yourself a moment to dry off and rummage through your supplies. No matter how routine this was, you knew you couldn’t become complacent. You could handle the stubborn bundle of geo, no problem, but you knew it never hurt to be prepared.

From your bag, you pulled out a wrapped bundle of fried fish and a single, elegant vial of a bright yellow liquid. You sloshed the liquid around, recalling the last time you’d been overconfident and forgone making the geo dampening potion. You had returned home that day with several more bruises the usual, and so you had firmly reminded yourself at you would prepare some, even if it had meant several days worth of butterfly chasing.

“You got lucky last time. Saw you learned a new move, but I’m smart. I learned.” You lifted the stopper out of the vial and knocked back the contents. The effects were immediate. You didn’t look it, but you felt thicker, sturdier, more centered. You hoped that was the effect of the potion, anyway. Nothing would sour your mood more than to realize the person you’d hired to make the potion had fouled it up.

Shrugging, you placed the empty vial into your pack, gulped down several bites of fried fish, then left your pack tucked up against the wall and behind a mess of tangled roots. Your hands moved next to the handle of your weapon, which peeked out from over your shoulder. With a heave, you brought out the claymore you so adored. It was nicked in places and scuffed in others, yet you found you were too attached. It had gotten you through too many battles, and it felt wrong to abandon it.

“Alright, we’ve got this. Just a few more months of this, and we can——!” Your self-given peptalk was cut short when you glanced around the wall and found that the hypostasis wasn’t alone. Choking on your own words, you quickly ducked back into the hiding. “Dammit! Someone’s already here.”

You set your claymore aside and pressed your hands to the wall, using it to lean around and peek.

“Huh.  .  .” Strange. Nearly every time you found the raw elemental, it had its defenses up. Even as it seemingly napped in place, it surrounded itself in solid, almost unbreakable basalt. Now, in front of this tall stranger, it was nothing more than its small, brightly glowing core. It bobbed and spun, giving off the sunshine-bright disposition of a puppy.

It was almost cute.

Interesting as the hypostasis was in this form, you found yourself drawn to the stranger interacting with it. Slender but strong, standing tall and straight, with a single hand that wove through the air around the exposed core. From where you stood, you couldn’t quite tell who he was, but something about him felt familiar.

‘ I’ve seen him before. ’ The earthen tones of his clothes and hair, the elegance and the poise. You were certain you had seen someone similar making their way through the streets of the harbor before. And, in his wake, came dreamy sighs and low purrs of admiration from all manner of people. The name eluded you, mostly because you didn’t care. He was a stranger, and you had no reason to acknowledge him until now.

“Why does it look like he’s playing with it?” You huffed through your nose, feeling thoroughly irritated that your chance to mine precious gems from the hypostasis had been squandered.

Without meaning to, you let out a groan of frustration.

The elemental core gave a sudden jolt, it’s small form jerking away from the man. In an instant, it wrapped itself in its armor, dark basalt etched with shimmering lines of gold appearing in large, even chunks. You gasped and ducked back for a second time, your heart rapidly beating against your chest. It didn’t know you were there. It couldn’t! You weren’t that loud, were you?

“Moron!” You scolded yourself and made to snatch your pack up when a voice, smooth and deep, reached you.

“I know you’re there.”

You stopped and stood still, as if that would render you completely untraceable. Breath held, but heart still hammering, you waited.

“It would benefit you greatly to come out of hiding.” The voice continued, calm and even.

Something about the voice made you reluctant to run. Shuddering and setting aside your things, you willingly stepped out from behind the crumbling ruins. Hands up and empty, you first revealed that you were unarmed. Harmless. Totally harmless.

“Ah, there you are.” There was a hint of satisfaction in the man’s tone, but you hardly paid attention. Your focus was intent on the sensation soaking through the soles of your boots. The vibration from earlier wasn’t as calm as it had been, the heartbeat-like thrum from earlier replaced with an anxious tattoo that traveled through your legs and up into your chest. You found yourself catching your breath, a horrible feeling welling inside your ribcage.

“Am I causing that?” Your own voice was soft and feeble and sincere. The man approached at a slow but steady clip, until he stood a mere foot away. His arms were folded behind him, making him appear even more refined up close.

“I wasn’t expecting you to realize your mistake so quickly. Good. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining it.” He arched a single brow. “Might I ask your name?”

“Uh.  .  .” You shook yourself from your mounting guilt and lowered your hands. He was polite, but you could tell from the sharp look in his amber eyes that he didn’t approve of your presence, and rightfully so. Still, you didn’t want to deny him your name when he had yet to force you off the island. You muttered your name, and he let out a thoughtful hum before repeating it.

Never had you heard your own name on a voice that alluring. It balanced on a fine line between heavenly and sinful, and you wished deeply that he would never, ever say it again. It sounded too good, and your heart already had its share of problems to deal with at the moment, shame being one of them.

“Seen you around the harbor before, but I can’t remember your name.” You gently prompted him to give his own name in return, hoping it wouldn’t be seen as rude. The corner of his lips turned up a fraction, but that hint of a smile didn’t last long.

“I am Zhongli. Under different circumstances, I would say it was a pleasure to meet you.” Still scolding, still disapproving. You shrank under his gaze, but still found it in you to speak in turn.

“I’ve never seen it out of its armor for that long before.” You observed.

“I wonder why that is.  .  .” Zhongli turned to face the elemental, his broad shoulders rising and lowering with a heavy sigh. Guilt punched you in the gut again.

“I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you had never once been convinced that your mining had been detrimental to the hypostasis.

“It cannot speak for itself, so you were lead to believe that your harvesting was harmless.” Zhongli mused as he ventured towards the elemental again. “That is understandable. But now that you are aware, now that you feel the effect your presence has on it, are you willing to change?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but were stopped but a sudden thought.

For the sake of a voiceless, sentient being, were you willing to change? Yes.        Were you able? No.

You hurried to follow Zhongli and weren’t the least bit surprised when the hypostasis kept its distance, basalt armor quaking with fear. You stopped your advance, keeping well behind Zhongli.

“I can’t.”

“Oh?” He didn’t turn his attention to you, but kept it intent on the elemental. He lifted a gloved hand, the palm resting carefully along the surface of one cube of armor. “That is a shame. I was hoping you’d be agreeable.”

“No, it’s — it’s not that I don’t want to. I want to! I didn’t know it was.  .  .”

“Capable of feelings?”

You nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see you.

“All things feel, all things remember. The lack of a voice does not make one unworthy of thoughts or memories, good or bad.” Zhongli smoothed his hand over the armor of the hypostasis. “It remembers. You are quite brutal.”

“I’m sorry.” You directed this to the hypostasis rather than him. “I didn’t know.”

“And yet you blatantly refuse to change your behavior?” Zhongli’s sharp gaze landed on you again.

“I have an obligation! I’m bound to my word.” Your hackles rose for a moment, but were lowered again soon after. “I have a contract.”

At this, Zhongli came to face you. “A contract?”

“I don’t know why I should tell you.” Your stubbornness reared its ugly head in that moment. Arms crossed, you waited for him to coldly dismiss you. Instead, he folded his arms behind his back and cooly stared you down.

“Contracts are, for better or worse, binding. I understand that, when broken, there can be dire consequences. Is this an official contract?” He wondered. You wanted to hold firm to your refusal to speak of it, but the man’s calm nature made it difficult.

Shifting uneasily, you gave another nod.

“Yes.”

“Are you barred from discussing the terms of the contract with people unrelated to the contract itself?” Each question was asked quickly and sharply, as if practiced. You frowned, moreso out of thought than offense.

“I don’t think so. No one’s ever told me I’m not allowed.”

“Then, please, indulge me. What about this contract requires you to mine as often as you do?”

“You want the long version or the short version?” You reached up to rub at the space between your eyebrows, mounting stress threatening to bring forward a headache.

“Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

“If you say so. My family’s in a tight spot, yeah? We owe some people a lot of money, but most of the people involved are too old, too frail or too inexperienced to go out and earn the mora we need. The people that are hounding us thought, hey, let’s get the daughter to go out and find these precious materials. No one can pass up on free labor, right? I work for them, I slowly whittle away at the debt my family’s worked up for the last few years.” You shrugged casually to hide the fact that the contract was draining you of your free time and, apparently, your morals.

Zhongli frowned, a wrinkle knitting his brows together.

“What are the exact terms on your contract?” He asked, ignoring a nudge against his shoulder from the hypostasis.

“There are quite a few, but the one causing me the most trouble right now is the fact that I need to come here every day and pick out the prithiva from your friend there.” You didn’t miss the shudder in the rocks or the way the hypostasis fled yet again, putting space between you and itself. Zhongli motioned for the hypostasis to calm, but the trembling remained.

“I need the terms as they were worded the day the contract was made.” Zhongli requested firmly this time.

“Three prithiva gems, whole and unblemished, every day for a year. Even if it means getting the slivers and asking someone to do their alchemy-thing on it, I gotta get those gems.”

Zhongli’s stern gaze softened as he motioned for the hypostasis to come nearer.

“That’s all?”

“When it comes to this fella, yeah. I just need the gems.” This time, you were the one to step away from the coming hypostasis. It was clear you had scarred the creature, and you weren’t about to disrespect it in front of this man, who so clearly cherished the living geo.

“You aren’t required to fight and take it?” He continued.

“They never said I did, but it was the only way I could think to fulfill the terms.” You slumped in place and let out a little whine. “Don’t tell me I could have just asked for it.”

“Did you consider the possibility?” Zhongli quipped.

“No! I didn’t think it could understand people!” You stressed with a growl. Zhongli chuckled, the sound taking you aback.

“It doesn’t understand language, but it understands intent. Come here.” The command was subtle, but you felt compelled to obey. Cautiously, you took to Zhongli’s side. His taller frame shadowed yours, and you swore you caught the scent of sun-warmed stones and hints of glaze lilies as an errant ocean breeze whorled past. “Put your hand out, like me.”

You hesitated, and he took note of this.

“Be calm. If you’re afraid, it will know.” He coaxed you, sounding far gentler than he had since calling you out of your hiding spot.

“I’m not afraid,” you corrected, “I feel bad.”

“As deserving as the feeling is, you can make it right if it is your intent to.” Zhongli pointed out. You sucked in a breath, nodded once, then held your hand out. The hypostasis shuddered again and bobbed backwards. Zhongli frowned like a disapproving father and clicked his tongue. “I understand that she’s been cruel, but I believe her when she says she was unaware of how sentient you are. If we are to make amends, the effort needs to be mutual on both parts. As long as I am here, neither of you will come to harm.”

The hypostasis twitched and the armor around it lowered for a moment, but it was fleeting. In a small fit of hope, you drew closer and placed your hand against the glimmering armor. The protective chunks of rock snapped back into place around its dim core, spun rapidly in the air, then sunk down into the ground where all that remained were spider-web cracks that glowed as warm and bright as the sun.

You stood there, hand out and mouth agape.

“It ran away!”

Zhongli lowered his head for a moment. “This was not the result I imagined, but it is progress.”

You lowered your hand and rolled your eyes.

“How is that progress?” You snapped. Zhongli didn’t so much as flinch at your aggression, but sported a knowing smile that irritated your further.

“Gimel let you near without attacking out of instinct. I would say that counts as progress, small step as it is.” He spoke assuredly, and you supposed he had a point.

“Gimel?”

“It has a name. It may work in your favor to remember it.” Zhongli added.

“Yeah, well — what am I supposed to do now? I can’t go back empty-handed.” You grumbled and turned away, stalking back to the spot where you had stashed your bag. The effects of the potion you had drank earlier had begun to ware off, leaving you feeling oddly light and slightly off-balance. That, coupled with your plummeting mood, made you want to leave behind the island and hope that your contract wasn’t seen as broken.

Behind you, you heard the steady click of boots as Zhongli followed behind you.

“I have an offer.” He stopped when you did, and he didn’t miss the flicker of confusion and wariness in your eyes when you spun around.

“What kind of offer?” You were like a cornered animal, and you wondered if he had sensed your growing worry since Gimel had disappeared. You weren’t desperate yet, but that may have been because you had yet to fail in completing your end of the contract. The consequences were unknown, but you were sure you would regret returning to Liyue Harbor without the gems you were asked to retrieve. Still, you were concerned, and you knew it was hard to hide when you fidgeted the way you did.

“A contract.”

“No.”

“One that won’t break the conditions of the contract you’re currently bound to.” He continued in spite of your quick refusal. You crossed your arms and wrinkled your nose, but it only caused him to smile again. “Don’t be stubborn, girl.”

You scowled and felt a rare flare of anger rise, but he interrupted you with a shake of his head and a raise of his closed hand. Long, slender fingers unfurled, revealing a small handful of pristine prithiva topaz gemstones. It wasn’t out of greed that you lunged forward, but a deep desire to protect yourself and your family. You didn’t grab the gems, of course. It wouldn’t do to anger this man after he had shown you patience, but you wouldn’t deny that it was a tempting sight to see him holding the gems out for you to take.

You whetted your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue and spoke past the sandpaper feeling in your throat.

“What are your terms?” You croaked.

“You return to this place every day, unarmed and alone, to spend time with Gimel. In return, you will be rewarded with the gems required of you. As it’s clear they didn’t specify how you acquire them, it will not interfere with the terms of your current contract.” He raised both brows this time and held the gems out further. Your fingers twitched as you reached, but you didn’t take them.

“That’s all you want out of me?”

“We are merely acquaintances, but I hardly find it worthwhile to trick you into a dishonest contract. My terms are as simple as they sound. You cease hostilities against Gimel and attempt to right your wrongs, and you will have your gems. I only ask for a few hours spent here, nothing more. I can’t expect you to wrap your entire life around this one task.” He reached out to take one of your hands, turning the palm up. His touch was gentle and didn’t contest with your own freewill, but you let him do as he pleased.

His thumb uncurled your your fingers, followed the deep lines in your palm and smoothed over your wrist. Your cheeks burned, but you blamed the glaring sun overhead. He was only being kind, you told yourself.

“If I accept these, does that mean I accept the contract?”

“I’m afraid so.” He stepped closer, head and voice low. His dark hair framed his stoic expression, yet his hand on yours remained kind. “Your answer?”

You swallowed hard, weighed your options, then peered up into those vivid, autumn-tinted eyes. “Will you be here too?”

You weren’t sure what prompted such a question, but it seemed to catch him as off-guard as well. He blinked and pulled back for a moment. “Is this an amendment?”

“No,” you shook your head and dared to laugh, “just a request. I don’t think Gimel will trust me on my own, not at first.”

“Its trust will be be earned by your own merits, not because I am here.” Zhongli informed you stiffly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just think — maybe it would help if I observed you for a little while, maybe a few days. I can see how better to approach, then you can leave us be.” You tilted your head. “Is that unreasonable?”

“I.  .  . suppose it’s not. You are willing to learn, at least, and I cannot fault you for that. Very well. Starting tomorrow, I will accompany you for three days. After that, you are expected to use what you’ve learned on your own.” He closed his fingers around the gemstones and twisted his wrist, readying himself to drop them into your waiting hand. “Has your answer changed?”

You shook your head. “No, I planned to accept before.”

“Then we’re in agreement? You are aware of what will happen if you break the contract?” He warned. You nodded.

“I’m aware, trust me.” You wiggled your fingers impatiently. Zhongli placed the gems into your hand one at time, being sure not to chip or scratch them.

“Then it is done. I won’t be truly satisfied until you’ve signed a physical contract and we’ve made it official, but I will hold onto your word for the time being.” He helped your hand close around the gems, both of his own hands wrapped tightly around your clenched digits. “Find me at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor later tonight, and we can document our arrangement.”

“Sure thing, boss.” You pulled your hand away, the sensation of the gems in your grasp bringing you far more ease than you were happy with. To be so dependent on them made you nauseous, but Zhongli’s willingness to help made it a little less so. Although, you couldn’t help but to wonder why he was so quick to help. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Is it not human nature to want to help?”

“I guess, but.  .  . there aren’t many that are as open and willing as you are. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. It’s just unexpected. I didn’t think today would end the way it would.” You squirreled away the gems in your satchel, slung it over your shoulders, then affixed your claymore onto your back.

“Are you disappointed?” Zhongli calmly watched you pack up, head tilted slightly.

“Not at all.” You spared him a smile, a weight gradually lifting off your heart and shoulders. “I was annoyed at first, but I’m glad we got to meet, Mr. Zhongli.”

Another peel of soft laughter left the man, but it was hidden behind the side of his hand. “Then I will readily admit that I wasn’t expecting you to say that. I’m relieved you were so willing to cooperate, and.  .  . I am glad we had the chance to meet as well.”

You bounced once on the tips of your feet and gave him a mock salute. “Guess that means I’ll be seein’ you later! I’m going to pass these gems on, then I’ll pop by your place to sign my life away!”

You didn’t address the crinkle in his face at your jest, but you did snicker as you fled the island. Only when you were well out of sight did Gimel return, its core open to the air and nudging against Zhongli’s elbow.

The archon reached back to give the hypostasis a gentle stroke, but his eyes remained in the direction you had wandered off in.

“I have a feeling that our time with her will be very interesting.”

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #s: rock solid bonds #yes i made the hypostasis a character #i was fighting it and i couldn't help but to wonder if zhongli goes and visits it to see if it's recovering well enough #end me #dipping my toes in a new fandom WHEEZES

[cursestothemoon]

They Forgot Everything The Minute They Were Together

Requested: yesss

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: war, death, animal death, briefly mentioned moment of intimacy (not overtly crude), children, marriage

Summary: Draco Malfoy and Y/n L/n were arranged to be married, this is their story of growing into love while a war looms over everyone’s heads.

Word Count: 3996

✧✧✧

The weather was a biting cold, the kind of cold that makes the tip of your nose numb and your eyes water. Snow was anticipated all over the grounds, the bitter cold mirroring the somber mood of the pale blonde boy inside. Draco Malfoy was sixteen, and his life already seemed to be planned out for him. It wouldn't have bothered him, not really, to be arranged to marry a girl of high society. Someone wealthy, and snobby, and incredibly cold. Someone who deserved to have the luxury of free will ripped away with a firm hand. But he was arranged to marry you, Y/n L/n. He loved you, he was sure of it, it was the only thing he was ever really sure of. You’ve been there for him for as long as he could remember. You grew together, and you were kind, and sweet, and you were everything soft and gentle while Draco was cold, and sharp, and nothing like you. He had jagged edges and loose wires, Draco was everything that you weren’t and it was in the search of your warmth to soothe his frostbite that he fell in love with the smell of your shampoo and the crinkle of your nose. And now as he stood looking over the railing of the astronomy tower, he wished he didn’t love you, not after what he's going to do.

The time neared for their arrival and the boyish innocence that remained somewhere in him was slowly dwindling with the job he was given, but he thought of you to calm his nerves. Draco was lucky, he was well aware of how rarely arranged marriages are between two people already in love. The wedding had been planned since his birth, neither you nor him old enough to understand the meaning of what your mothers whispered about. It was a vague memory, both of you aged six, when the bond became more official. Lucius Mlafoy and your father, Y/F/N, made the arrangement a promise, a vow. Narcissa was the one to bind the unbreakable vow between the two men, and a younger you placed bright purple heliotrope flowers delicately into the almost transparent blonde hair of Draco’s.

Since then the two have been inseparable, whether they liked it or not. They had started as innocent friends, a young girl and boy who often spent summers, Christmases, and birthdays together, always joined at the hip. This continued until their second year of Hogwarts, both of you entering a rebellious phase that didn’t end until the end of fourth. Draco would sneer at you and you’d send it right back to him, he hated the arrangement then, he hated that he’d have no choice, and most of all he hated that he was starting on to hate it at all. You felt similarly, he was rude, and arrogant. You didn’t like the way he treated people and you hated how when he focused on something, face relaxing into a look of wonder and gentility, you felt the incredible need to smother him with love.

It was the end of fourth year, Cedric was dead, Voldemort was back, and Draco and you found comfort in each other. For the first time in three years, you and Draco were friends again. Your relationship hadn’t developed yet, instead always teetering on the edge of friendship just waiting to be pushed over. That push came during the summer after your fifth year.

Draco and you were set to get the Dark Marks. Pledge your loyalty to a man who both of you were brainwashed to believe was meant to be a leader. You, ashamed of it now, were quiet about your disagreement with the Dark Lord's ways but Draco had told you to keep quiet, to keep it to yourself. It seemed Draco matured far faster than you during this time, every flinch and the plethora of bruises forced the snarky little boy to grow into a looming man. One whose eyes were swimming with despair and pain, and whose cries kept you awake during the nights you spent at Malfoy Manor.

“Don’t say that! Don’t you ever say that about him!” Draco bellowed

You felt yourself shake with rage at the way he acted so spineless, “You can’t tell me you agree with what he’s doing.”

He took a breath, his shoulders coming down and his face relaxing into a look of eerie stoicism, “Don’t speak of the Dark Lord like that, he is far more powerful than you and me combined. We weren’t made to be heroes, so don’t waste your energy.”

Your eyes followed Draco as he left the room, the ceremony was starting soon.

The room was dark, curtains drawn, fire extinguished, the only light coming from the dim flicker of the overhead chandelier. Two families stood in a circle, the L/ns and the Malfoys, along with others such as Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, and Severus Snape amongst other unrecognized faces. In the middle stood you and Draco, waiting for the arrival of the Dark Lord. It was with a spine chilling whoosh that he appeared, Nagini and Wormtail in tow.

“Ah, Draco...Y/n. My youngest.” His voice was light, the happiness seeping through each word.

Your heads were kept down, neither of you being able to meet the snake like man’s eyes just yet. The air seemed to thicken with discomfort when you felt a hand wrap around her, pushing your face into the chest of Lord Voldemort. His robes smelled of mildew and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on, and they felt just slightly damp and cold much like his skin. You tried not to gag as the smell of decaying skin assaulted your senses, eyes watering as you prayed to Merlin you’d be freed. Draco also seemed impatient for him to let go of you, he worried you were going to burst, do something to get yourself killed. He took a welcome breath of the mildew smell, relishing in the fact that you were still there, silent and obedient.

“Wormtail, the sacrifice.” The command was drawled out, lips stretching to a smile.

Wormtail drew his wand and muttered a few words, none detectable by you or Draco. He thrust his wand one final time toward the floor in front of you, making a white dove appear along with a white rabbit.

“The rabbit is yours, Y/n. Remember, you must use all three curses.” Voldemort instructed.

You stepped forward, eyes falling onto the snow white bunny. Its red eyes looked back at you, its nose twitching ignorantly.

Stupid bunny, you thought. It won’t even try to run.

It was ironic really, you'd only realize this years later.

The shake in your hand was masked impressively, your wand pointing straight at the white rabbit. You took a breath before muttering the first curse, Imperio, and the bunny moved at your will.

Next, Crucio, and the rabbit flopped and squealed in pain as you waited for your Lord to tell you it was sufficient. The rabbit started to twitch as it fell to the floor, the painful sounds of a prey animal suffering filled the room for what felt like hours until Voldemort called for it to stop.

“Next one, my girl. Go on.” He coaxed you, his tone far too excited.

With a final look at the animal still withering in pain, you found this curse was the easiest to do out of the rest as it would put the suffering bunny out of its misery.

“Avada Kedavra.” Your words were firm but nothing happened.

“As suspected, though it was quite impressive you were able to use the Cruciatus curse.” Voldemort smiled at you before he gave Nagini the ok to eat the suffering animal.

Whilst the snake took advantage of the opportunity, Voldemort continued, “Bella, if you will.”

Bellatrix hoped to your side, wand waving excitedly as she grabbed your wrist roughly.

“Good work you did there, girl. Marrying my nephew, you two’d make a strong alliance for the Dark Lord.” She cackled, pointing her wand to the inside of your left forearm.

She muttered the words for a spell you’ve never heard and the pain was almost instantaneous. White hot, searing pain that made you gasp and instinctively move your right hand to try and push Bellatrix’s wand away. She was quicker than you, her free hand shooting out to grab a chunk of your hair, pulling your head back, her face getting closer to yours making you feel her breath on your cheek.

“Feel the pain. Own it! You do it for the Dark Lord.” She smiled, her teeth yellow and cracked on display.

The mark was finished and Bellatrix let go of you roughly, a sharp cackle coming from her mouth as she pranced back to her spot. Your eyes connected to Draco’s, his holding a look of worry intermingled with horror, but he refused to let them wander down to the mark.

“Draco, my boy. You next. And I’ll be the one to gift you my mark.”

Draco remembers that night, although tinted with horror, with a smile adorned on his face. You had been quiet the entire dinner, and as everyone left you were silent in the retreat to a spare room. This was odd, seeing as Lucius always insisted that you two share a room when together ever since youth. Both of you have grown accustomed to sharing his room when you visit and him making himself comfortable in your own room when he makes the trip to yours. With a destined marriage, it seemed that your parents wanted to push you two impossibly close. This is why Draco was a bit frantic when he opened his doors to see a completely empty room. He ran through the manor, his parents already in bed, their room equipped with a silencing charm in order to keep out the bustling of house elves and visiting death eaters seeing as the manor was the meeting place for most things. So Draco wasn’t worried about his heavy footsteps waking his parents, nor his calls for you.

He found you in the back acres of the house near the little purple flowers, they were your favorite.

“They tried to take them out over winter holiday, had to fight tooth and nail for them to keep it in.” Draco said, a soft smile coming to his lips when you looked at him.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, calculated, and Draco hated it.

He moved to sit down next to you, his arm pulling you down with him as he put his back to the grass. Both of you looked up at the stars, wondering how they were still shining so bright when everything inside of you felt like it was dimming steadily.

Draco slowly slid his hand into yours, his cheeks blossoming in a heated tingle as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He focused on the sky again, his hand coming up to point at a cluster of stars.

“That’s the constellation, Leo. Has the star, Regulus.”

You recognized the name but kept quiet hoping he’d continue.

“That one- can you see it? Just there?- is Cassiopeia. Then there’s Cepheus, her husband an-”

“I hope we are to become stars when we die.” The words slipped past your lips almost unknowingly to you.

Draco looked at you, eyes searching yours to understand how you were feeling, but he only found the sparkles of wonder.

“You’re a bit late to the party.” He laughed as you gave him a knowing look.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” He admitted quietly, turning to look back at the stars.

Your voice greeted him again, “Where’s Draco?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m with you right now.” He answered back, a small smile playing at his lips as your hand came out to shove his shoulder.

“Alright, alright. It’s just there- no you’re looking in the wrong area- next to the Big Dipper.” He said, pointing in the direction of the constellation.

You propped yourself up on your forearm, looking at Draco who was still flat on the ground.

“How do you know all this?”

He shrugged, fingers going to play with your own absentmindedly, “Mum would bring me out here when I was little and had a bad dream. She’d point out the constellations and stars, our family, she’d call them, until I fell asleep.”

Draco spoke calmly but his voice was heavy with emotion, his eyes unmoving from the sky above him as he longed for a simpler time, for a time he could run to his mother when he had a nightmare instead of having to self soothe.

You noticed the way he seemed to get lost somewhere, and you knew it’d be best if you didn’t pry. Draco was never good with prying and you understood he was vulnerable now.

“I’m quite lucky to be marrying you, Y/n.”

The smile you gave him was gentle, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll be marrying someone I love.”

The confession had you giddy, unable to form the right words because just an ‘i love you too’ would not satisfy the magnitude of how deeply you loved this boy. Deciding to show him instead of  tell him, you were quick to lean down to his lips.

Draco moved fast, his hand not wasting any time to grab hold of your jaw and draw you in closer. He pushed himself up onto his elbow, face now level with yours, though only for a moment as he used his weight to push you to lie on your back. He heard you whimper into the kiss, making electric jolts shoot through his body before he pulled away slowly.

“The stars aligned when you were made to be my wife.” He whispers, his thumb going down to caress the fresh Dark Mark that seemed to not belong on your ethereal body.

Draco felt his lips tug into a smile at the memory but it didn’t help the tremble in his hands. His eyes wandered through the sky trying to find the constellation, his constellation. But he exhaled hopelessly as it seemed the stars had turned their back on him this night.

“Draco, they’re here.” Your voice was rough, and you spoke in breaths as you told him of the success of the vanishing cabinet with the news of the newly arrived Death Eaters.

He gave you a quick nod but his eyes welled with tears, “I suppose it’s too late to throw myself off this tower then.”

“Draco, you don-”

His anger seemed to take over as his face contorted to an expression of frustration, “Don’t- don’t say that. You know what he’d do to my family, to me. You know what he’ll do to you. I have to do this.”

“He’s doing this to punish your father Draco, he knows you can’t do it.”

This only seemed to fuel the fire, you soon realized.

“I can do it! I will do it, for you and for my dad. You can't change my mind.”

You took in a breath, battle already lost as you said, “I know. And I know you’ll hate yourself forever if you were the one to do it.”

“As long as I still have you to love me, the sun will shine again.” His tone turned cold before starting again, “We should go, he’ll be coming back any moment now.”

That was the night you and Draco had a hand in catalyzing the war.

The war was dark, especially for those marked with the remnants of death. You watched on the sidelines, a bystander to evil, and watched your family commit unspeakable acts. And you’d do it all over again if it meant your memory would be cleared of the way Draco slowly crumbled as the war went on, his cheeks sinking in, and eyes losing their shimmer. You’d go through it all if it meant you could forget the way Draco ate away at himself from the inside out.

Draco was running on empty as the Battle of Hogwarts began, the thought of being with you in the end was the only thing really keeping him going. It was the way you’d still curl into his side during the nights you spent in his room, your hand reaching for his underneath the dinner table when the Dark Lord would torture his next victims high in the air, and it was your body that was warm and bare that seemed to make him forget, just for the night, that he was destined to be the villain.

His hands ran down your bare sides, his head buried in your neck as he kept pace with his thrusts. Your moans spurring him on and your fingers that ran through his slightly sweaty hair, starting from the nape of his neck.

As Draco slowly drew out your release, he wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t a Death Eater, and he wasn’t fighting on the wrong side of the harrowing war. He was just your lover, grateful for the trust you instilled in him to care for your body as no one else has.

He pressed a kiss to the black swirling of the Dark Mark on your wrist, you had already fallen asleep as he did so. He looked at the mark as a disgrace to the skin he believed to be free of any and all imperfection. Draco hated it.

It was with fear and guilt that you two fought at Hogwarts, not for the cause but for each other. Every spell and every curse was in the name of your lover, and you couldn’t help but pray that it ended soon.

Ended, it did, with Draco and you finally fighting for a better cause. The Dark Lord had just been killed, his body crumbling to ash horrifically, and Draco was quick to grab your hand as he walked somewhere with purpose. He knew what would happen to those with the mark still on the grounds, regardless of who they helped in the end. He couldn’t lose you, not when you had just won.

That was how you had found yourself, hand in hand with Draco, in front of a fairly good sized house in the countryside somewhere. The house was old, not in condition, but in style. It stood tall as Weeping Willows extended delicate tendrils over the area, the exterior was a gentle sage green with white accents and many, many windows.

“It was left to me by my great-grandmother. It’s our home now.” Draco whispered, not wanting to ruin the fragile moments.

The emotions seemed to hit you like a tidal wave, not just from today but the past two years were finally over. Your shoulders shook with your cries and Draco watched nervously, worried you had changed your mind of loving him, and he wouldn’t blame you.

“What’s wrong, Darling?” Draco asked as he pulled you into his chest.

He smelled of ash and dirt, but his familiar scent of expense peeked through carefully. His clothes were tattere, much like yours, and hair messy but when you pulled away to look into his eyes you couldn’t help but think he was the most exquisitely attractive person you had ever seen.

Your hands came up to cup his face, “I love you, Draco. So much.”

He smiled before kissing you gently, then his lips dropped to the inside of your left wrist placing another kiss there before pulling you towards the house. Walking on the white and grey cobble path made in the grass toward the house, you noticed the same little purple flowers that you had accompanied you when you kissed Draco for the first time outside of the manor.

Upon entering the house, you noticed the way it was evident it belonged to a family of wealth. The inside looked freshly cleaned, everything in its place. The interior was beautifully Victorian, it was proud as it basked in the light that pooled in through the large windows.

This was your home.

You and Draco loved your home, you married behind the house in the intricate garden with family and friends, your bouquet adorned generously with Heliotrope flowers. You healed your wounds of foolish childhood and rushed maturing within the walls, and it was in this home where you raised your children.

Arcturus Malfoy, named after a boy with a brave story that mirrored your own, a son whose pale blonde hair and cool blue eyes derived directly from his father, along with his nose but he got his stubbornness and sarcasm from his mother. Asterope, an asteroid that blazed bright without hesitation, the twin sister of Arcturus. Her hair and eyes were just like yours, but her lips were shaped like her father’s and her quiet stealth and calculated thinking was also, just like her fathers.

“Come on, we can’t have the train leaving without you two on it.” You said, holding your son's hand as Draco had your daughter.

Your daughter’s voice piped up, “It’s rather ridiculous this is the only way there.”

“Your dad said the same thing when we were almost late our fifth year.” You smiled at the memory.

Draco laughed at the way Asterope scrunched her nose at the other children making their way to platform 9 ¾. She was far too mature for the ripe age of eleven but he failed to remember himself as just the same way.

“You can just swim, Aster.” Arcturus said with a comically straight face before his lips split into a grin as he looked up at you.

You guys stopped in front of the barrier, fond memories warming your heart as you looked at the bricks.

“What now?”

You looked at Arcturus with a smile then turned to Asterope as you motioned for her to come stand next to her brother.

“You run through it.” Draco informed as he stood next to you, hand snaking around your waist.

“How convenient.”

“That doesn’t seem very safe.”

Both twins responded at the same time making you and Draco laugh. Eventually, Arcturus was the first to run through the barrier with his cart, Asterope following with furrowed eyebrows.

“You know she’s just like you.” You said, making Draco scoff.

“I was so much worse, Darling.”

His answer made you laugh, bringing up your intertwined hands to your lips. Placing a careful kiss to the barely there mark, it had started to fade the moment Voldemort was killed. Draco felt his heart flutter at the action, wondering how he got so lucky.

“Whatdya say? Run through it for good luck?” A mischievous glint flashed in your eyes.

“Of course.”

The otherside of the barrier was just as you remembered it, and the nostalgia made your eyes tear up. The goodbyes were quick, but still incredibly difficult for you and Draco to let go of your kids when they hugged you before boarding. You two waved as Asterope and Arcturus found their ways into the train.

You and Draco turned to leave as your kids settled into their compartments with kids they, presumably, just met. A mixture of blonde, brunette, and raven haired kids sat in one compartment no longer needing the ready hand of a parent.

“Y/n! Wait!” A voice called behind you, and if you had paid a little more attention maybe you would’ve recognised it, but instead you stood a bit frozen with Draco still wondering who it was.

“I still remember what you did.” The voice said again, making you finally turn around.

Your eyes found the culprit and you gulped, worried of what he was going to say.

“I never got to thank you.”

Fred Weasley smiled at you, his hand resting around the shoulders of a young boy with bright red hair and his father’s lopsided grin.

#Draco Malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy imagines