zayne asking you to read out loud a medical report while he has you bent over his table in his study.
zayne's large frame covering your body as he watches you struggling to read a one simple sentence.
the words blur together, their meaning slipping from your grasp. you can’t make sense of them, let alone read them in the haze of pleasure.
it's your fault really, teasing him when he was trying to concentrate on his work. so he decides to give you a taste of your own medicine.
he has you starting over from the beginning every single time you make a slip up. all the while he slides his cock in and out of you, just the tip, just enough to drive you crazy.
his large palm traces a path down your spine as you whimpers, and if you try to grind your hips towards him, guess what? "start over."
again
again
and again
you've lost count of how many times you've read the same sentence over and over. you've lost count on how many times he's stolen you of your release. and only when you're a blabbering mess, unable to speak, let alone read, and begging him to fuck you, he will give in.
and that's not even the end. then he'll keep ramming his cock into you until you can't take it anymore, holding you up by the waist when your legs give in while he whispers sweet words into your ear.
zayne is the guy to have you read his work aloud while he fucks you (i didn't say that!)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Tagged by @the-real-azalea-scroggs! Had to wait until I was of my phone because doing these is a nightmare on mobile lmao
1. How many works do you have on A03?
18 as of a few days ago!
2. What's your total A03 word count?
157,937! Which is. Only a fraction of the word count in my Docs folder. Be prepared.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
I mainly write for The Legend of Zelda; specifically Linked Universe! In fact, that's all that's posted on my Ao3 currently, since my fall into that fandom began with me uploading there! Pre-Ao3 I wrote for Black Cat (Anime/Manga), Megaman NT Warrior, various Pokémon things, Assassin's Creed, Yugioh, Final Fantasy XIV and Octopath Traveler! Some of these I still write privately, but I haven't gotten around to re-posting any.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Whistling on Deaf Ears - My longest fic on Ao3, focusing on Wild and Twilight's friendship and how good intentions can lead to disaster.
Iconoclasm - Warriors deals with the room full of portraits in Cia's palace. The Chain also deals with it, but with a bit more fire.
Deserving - Twilight finally tells Rusl that he was the wolf in the village during TP, but that also means dealing with some heavier topics. Colin half overhears them and forms his own conclusions.
Something Greater - The start of the "Hyrule can see magical auras" series! In this one we deal with Legend and his many rings.
Ocean Magic - Mermaid Legend and Zora Time have a race and then fight one of the Big Octos from WW! Fun times.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Every single one!! I love comments, they give me an excuse to ramble about my fic more!! I am always down to ramble about every single insignificant detail of any line and/or section. If you ever want more background info about one of my fics, look to the comments!
So please, I adore comments, I treat them like treasures, not responding to them would be a CRIME.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
There's no contest; Inevitable, my (so far) only MCD fic.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hmmm, that's hard to quantify. I usually try to end fics on a hopeful note regardless. I'd say possibly either Deserving, where Twilight reconnects with his family, or Shimmering Blue, Striking White, where Time meets the Fierce Deity settled down on Satori Mountain and they both get closure.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Thankfully, no! I've been blessed with mostly amazing and patient readers, even when my upload schedule isn't the best.
9. Do you write smut?
No, not really. I've attempted it, but I'm too asexual for it lol
10. Do you write crossovers?
Very, very rarely. Mostly privately, and only very specific ones. Only a single one has had an actual plot, so far (more on that one in question 15!).
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Nope!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Also a nope! I tend to write for smaller fandoms, where these things don't tend to happen a lot!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have! But it's been a while. Over a decade, in fact! I tried to find the fic to link it here, but it was on the German fanfic website fanfiktion.de, and my friend who posted it back then must have deactivated her account, because it's nowhere to be seen (I still have the Word file though!). It was a Multi-Crossover that started as an RP in a forum, and we took turns turning the RP into prose one chapter each. "If a Hero Turns to Dark" was its title. We were edgy teenagers.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
Hissssss. Bad question. Shoo. They are all equally important!!
But it's probably TenRose from Doctor Who.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
One of the very few crossovers I've ever worked on; a crossover fic between Assassin's Creed and Doctor Who, that I have mapped out in both chronological and timeline order, and yes, those are different. I only ever wrote about a quarter of it, since my primary audience of it disappeared when we graduated. I doubt I'll ever pick it back up properly, and if I do it'll probably go through heavy rewrites first since it's so old. Finishing it is a nice thought, but realistically, after 9 years it'll never be high priority enough for it to actually happen.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Dialogue, especially arguments, and emotional impact. I've been told I do really well making characters feel alive and believable! Also I like to believe I'm decent at setting a scene and giving it the vibe I want it to have!
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I struggle with dialogue tags when nothing much is happening besides the talking. I always feel it's too bland, and fall back on the same phrases. My scene transitions could use some work too.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I've done this with Japanese phrases, because I was a massive weeb. Usually I followed them up with their own translations, though; I'm not the biggest fan of footnote translations, unless they are properly linked to. Simple dialogue tags are my favourite way of indicating a language switch.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Black Cat the Manga/Anime! It's a series about an assassin turned bounty hunter trying to live a life separate from his murdery past, but getting dragged back into things by still wanting to avenge his best friend's death. The series has a special place in my heart and my bookshelf, it left an imprint on 13-year-old me that will never leave.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
Probably Jailbreak, uncharacteristically enough! It's one of the only fics I never got stuck in once. Writing it was a great feeling from start to finish. I love writing all of my fics, but that was a special few days.
Tagging @ahrva @nowhere-to-go-but-down @silvercaptain24 and @aeghina! And anyone who wants to do it, really, go wild
aka rav smashes a bunch of prompts together and calls it a day!
Reblogs are better than likes, feedback is appreciated!
TW for gore in one small part.
Host meets Anti for the first time, anti is in a terrible mood.
It had been weeks since Dark stole The Host's eyes and heart, effectively turning him into nothing more than a rambling observer to be used whenever the demon saw fit. Now was one of those times, casting The Host out across the ocean to visit an old enemy. He had seen the videos and heard the horror stories long before he ended up like this. The Host exited the taxi that had ferried him to certain doom with a silent nod, neither him nor the driver wanting to acknowledge the bloody bandages. At least he had gotten better at controlling the voices, able to force himself to stay silent for short periods of time. As he approached the house he allowed the voices to take more control, words spilling from his mouth as he visibly relaxed.
“The Host raises a fist to the door, hesitating for the briefest of moments before knocking firmly. He feels the clutches of anxiety rise up in his chest as he waits, the wind hissing through the trees the only company he has. A minute passes, and then another, until The Host finds himself staring blankly at the gates of Hell that will not open. Slowly, painfully, he reaches for the handle of the door and turns it, finding himself taking a step back in surprise as the door swings open effortlessly. He leans into the inky near blackness, straining to hear anything over the constant cacophony of voices swirling through his head. The Host steels himself with a breath as he steps into the house, and closes the door behind him with a soft click. He takes a silent breath and-“
His narration was cut off as he gagged, hands flying to his mouth to try and keep quiet. There was the hot stench of freshly spilled blood in the air, soaking into everything. The Host forced himself to try and stay silent as he crept further into the house, dreading what would come next. A choked cry escaped his lips as the scene unfolded before him, voices reaching a horrid crescendo, nearly falling to his knees at the overload.
The creature he had come to see was crouched over a familiar body, once crisp blue shirt now soaked with his own blood and saliva and God knows what else. Anti himself was still in the process of giving the now ex-doctor a trunk incision, the voices not so helpfully informed him. By some horrible act that defied all senses of logic and nature, the doctor was still barely breathing, struggling weakly against the ropes that bound his hands behind his back. One of his eyes had been completely removed and rolled a little ways away from the duo, staring blankly over at The Host. Anti cackled as he finished the Y shaped cut, nearly howling with delight and glitching wildly as he started to pry skin and muscle away from bone. Schneep managed to to turn his head to look over at this fresh hope of getting him out of this situation, blood dribbling from his mouth as he failed to utter a single cry for help.
Anti snarled, his words far too distorted to understand as he gaze snapped over to The Host. The intruder was too frozen with fear to do anything, cold sweat starting to form. Anti snatched a bloody bowie knife from the floor, scraps of viscera still clinging to the serrated edge of the blade. That was enough to shake The Host out of his shock, nearly falling over himself in a backwards scramble to flee from what felt like Death himself. Anti laughed and sneered at how pathetic his new prey looked, amused as he began to ramble. “The Host’s body trembles, as does his voice, struggling to find a way to explain himself, to evade the crimson glisten of what is surely to be his fate. He nearly stumbles over his words as his feet trip over one another, the creature advancing on him and taking in every little tremor in his victim’s voice with glee. A crackle rings in The Host’s ears, all malice and no joy. He takes another step backwards and finds himself trapped up against the door, hand flying to the knob to turn it only to find that it will not budge and his heart rate only picks up in pace as the beast advances on him, faster now, and in one swift motion he is-“
Anti had The Host pinned against the door with his body, completely cutting off his air with the hand that wasn’t wielding a blade. He sneers and tilts his head, hot breath rancid on his struggling prey’s face. Anti brings the curved tip of the knife to The Host’s face, dragging it lightly across the bandages there. “What, is Darkie’s little toy scared? Thought he could just break into my fucking house? I’ve got better shit to do, so why don’t you run on back and tell your master to fuck off, yeah?”
His sneer turns into a grin as he allows The Host to breathe again, taking a step back to fish through his jeans pocket. “Take this. He knows what it means.” Anti forced a small object into his hands before turning around to finish the horrid business he had apparently just gotten started with. From the other room, nearly silent sobs could be heard from the soon to be broken doctor. The Host shook his head and opened the now mysteriously working door, closing it behind him with a heavy sigh.
He looked at the item that Anti had given him, turning it over in his palm a few times. A simple silver ring, far too elegant to ever match Anti’s taste, yet somehow too obvious for Dark. The Host carefully tucked the ring in his breast pocket and tried not to think too hard on it, already itching to go back across the ocean.
A small piece of my fic for @2023legendoflinkzine! I had a blast working with everyone involved, and I highly recommend giving the other previews a shot if you're a fan of the franchise as a whole!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Day 13 - Can't Make an Omelette Without Breaking a Few Legs
Character Focus: Warriors & Legend
Warnings: Graphic Injury
Ao3 Link
Another swathe of flames rushed past his face and licked at his cheeks.
Link - Warriors, he reminded himself, Warriors now - had never really collected many experiences in the art of dungeon crawling before.
So far, he wasn't impressed.
The wall he was currently pressed against was cold, uneven, and some of the spiked rocks protruding from it bore into his back. He’d already almost been impaled by multiple traps and monsters behind corners, lacking instincts to safely maneuver these sorts of cramped spaces. And instead of getting closer to the exit, he'd been stumbling deeper into this mess with every step.
He’d been separated from the rest of the group of heroes he’d only just recently joined forces with, after passing through a portal that had suspiciously looked like one of Cia’s. An older, scarred hero who had for now taken leadership of their gathering, the polar opposite in the body of a young and excitable teenager, and apparently the hero who’d forged the Master Sword, and carried it with him too.
And now he was here. Next to a door he’d casually swung open to inspect the room behind it, and immediately dove to the side of when a blast of fire had almost burned him to a crisp.
"Whatever you are, that was your last warning! I'm pissed, I have a fire rod, and I'm gonna fucking use it!"
Warriors blinked.
That was new. Monsters didn’t usually snark at him quite as elaborately.
“Hylian, the last I checked!” he yelled back. “And not really eager to get another burn scar, so could you stop?!”
He’d almost expected another burst of flames for good measure. His words seemed to have been taken better, though, and instead he stood there with his breath held, silence from both sides.
The voice was much less aggressive when it answered him again.
“Watch your step. Spike traps.”
Warriors couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief. The last thing he’d have needed was another conflict.
Careful to keep the warning in mind, he stemmed himself from the wall and turned. One look at the both charred and slightly glowing iron door told him better than to try and stem it open with his hand, so he gave one of its lower edges a small kick with his heel to get it fully open.
He spotted his assailant immediately. On the other end of a fairly cramped room, almost lounging on the ground with his back at the wall for support, sat a boy a few years his own junior, were he to guess. Red tunic, fancy boots with embroidery and flaring up into wings and one hand closed around a rod with a red crystal mounted on top Warriors immediately knew to be the culprit of the flames from earlier. A sheathed sword and polished shield were propped up against the wall next to him.
His trained eye immediately recognised the awkward position of one of the boy’s legs.
He took his first step over the threshold of the frame, and jumped back almost as fast. True to the warning, he’d barely had time to rescind his foot before a contraption covered in vicious steel spikes came racing towards him with a loud grinding noise, pathing that side of the room. He let it pass by one more time, counting the time it needed to return to its original place in his head, before makeshift timing his entry.
The large half-jump half-step with a slight tumble at the landing was awkward at best. A slight snicker from the other side told him it must have looked as ridiculous as he’d felt.
“Don’t seem like you’re used to this kinda stuff,” came the commentary he could’ve really done without.
His pride didn’t let him take that sort of accusation without a huff. “Rather move awkwardly than not at all. What happened to your leg?”
“Ran into that thing when I came in.” He nodded towards the entrance, and Warriors knew he meant the traps he’d just avoided himself. “Granted, probably looked even more like a moron than you. Hit me straight in the calf. Pretty sure it’s broken.”
He took the information in as he walked up, furtive glances to his side to look out for more traps he may not have been warned about, but arrived at the boy’s side without much trouble. His eyes immediately got drawn to the injured leg and he crouched, wanting to assess the damage of someone his conscience already told him he couldn’t just leave behind.
On closer inspection, the boy didn't look nearly as alright as he very clearly wanted to pose as being.
The only light source fell on them from a couple of lanterns mounted on the walls, but even through the warm illumination the boy’s face was ashen at best. The wound itself, from what little time he’d inspected it for, was nasty and bloody, its edges jagged and uneven. Coupled with a clearly broken bone sitting just underneath, visible by a glance at the leg's position, like he'd been told.
Warriors clenched his back teeth, avoiding the grimace he'd otherwise have worn. This was bad enough he wasn't even certain a single red potion would do the trick. If he'd not passed through this place by chance…
"Well?" For someone who’d likely sat there with a wound this bad for quite a bit, Warriors could almost admire the calmness of the question. "How bad, you reckon?"
"Bad,” he stated straight away, having long trained the urge to play down injuries out of his system. "We need to get you out of here."
The boy snorted at him. "No shit."
Without much of a comment, Warriors reached into his pouch to rummage for his medical supplies. He only carried the necessities with him, but judging by the puddle of blood underneath the boy, making sure the rest of his blood stayed in his system was most likely a smart move.
"I'm curious," he said while he set down the bandages and fiddled with the flask of alcohol he’d also taken out, and only asked permission with a short look that was answered with a nod. "What was your plan? Would you have tried to crawl your way out had I not come along?"
A hiss of pain preceded the answer as he dabbed the surrounding skin with a damp cloth.
"Wasn't gonna be fun, but I've got some rations. Could've stuck it out a couple days."
One of Warriors eyebrows raised without permission, and he paused the act of dressing the wound to look up. "You really think someone would've come for you all the way down here?"
There was more confidence in the casual shrug that followed than he’d expected.
“You showed up, didn’t you?” the boy said, and waved off his own words before Warriors could dignify them with any response. "Let's just say I have it on good authority the Princess wouldn't like me kicking it. Since she sent me here, and all."
Warriors’ brain paused in the middle of another loop.
They were currently in a dungeon full of traps and monsters no regular person would ever wander into this deep, especially not a teenager. But a teenager with magical weapons, what he guessed was an adventuring pouch to hold said weapons, and a hat in a shape Warriors had only ever really seen on himself back during the war? That apparently knew the princess of this era, probably personally? That he, after meeting three other heroes only a few days ago, just happened to come across?
Oh, Farore, that made way too much sense.
"Name’s Link, by the way."
Warriors felt the corners of his mouth draw up, just a little bit.
Each of his senses and thought processes were focused on one thing, one single thing. Drawn to them like those monster moths of the Forbidden Forest to fires he’d stoked.
On the giant, massive bird perching on the top of that hill right in front of them, wings stretched to their full span.
“Yeah,” he croaked out, and it sounded much less normal than he’d meant for it to. “Just fine.”
“You sure?”
Sky’s voice sounded less confused and more concerned now. In the haze that was the edge of his vision, Wind saw the chosen hero step up in front of him.
He shook himself a little. “Yeah. ‘Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He wasn't sure why Sky was so insistent. Had he stopped in the middle of walking? Yes, and staring straight up unflinching without blinking probably didn’t help his appearance, but that was it. He'd said he was fine. Why was Sky doubting him?
Better question, why wasn't Sky also freaking out?
Two larger, gloved hands began to cover his by his side. A comforting squeeze followed, the reassurance warmer and more grounding than he’d ever admit to.
“Sailor, your hands are shaking.”
Were they?
A few moments of feeling it out, of comparing Sky’s to his own later and… oh, fuck, they were. Not just his hands, actually. He was shaking all over, his entire body. He could hear it in the way his sword clinked against his shield over and over and over again, the metallic rhythm rising and falling with his trembles. He’d not even noticed.
He nodded in acknowledgement. “Guess they are. That’s weird.”
It wasn’t really weird at all, seeing as he could barely keep from turning on the spot and sprinting back to the stable they’d come from - but he wasn’t about to admit to that. Especially not now that he’d have to get out of Sky’s grip first.
"Is something wrong?"
Ripped out of the trance he'd not realised he was under, Wind's head snapped back down, eyes homing in on Time. Their leader just settled into standing next to them, a hand on his hip and a clear want to understand their holdup.
Sky, who Wind could now tell wore a soft and gentle smile, only turned ever so slightly. "I believe a break might be more needed than we realised. It's good we're so close to the village."
Wind found himself blinking. Village?
Right. They'd been walking from the stable over those huge floating bridges, and Wind, used to those from Outset, had made fun of the captain for the distrust he'd had in them. Warriors' deadly grip to the railing and properly teasing the guy about it had distracted him from… well.
The bird.
He swallowed.
The bird that was still perched up there in the same position, like it was taunting him, preparing to take off at any moment to dive at them, almost as motionless as a st… wait a second.
The bird that was made of stone?
Without consideration to Sky’s hold he snapped one of his hands up to his face, and, ignoring the surprised noise the chosen hero made, closed one of his eyes to rub it. Now he needed to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Or misseeing things. Because that would frankly be embarrassing.
After a sufficient number of rubs he felt safe to double-check. He blinked and squinted away the haziness and black spots, and, after realising Sky was currently blocking his view, leant to the side enough to look past him.
The bird was still there, the sight still clawing at that deep-seated panic in the back of his head, the one that both had him freeze, and run, and hack it with his sword until the adrenaline in his veins subsided. He hadn't hallucinated that part, thankfully.
But it still hadn't moved, its wings still spanning the same length, its feet still resting on the same spot. And it still had that same unnatural brownish colour he’d registered in the back of his head but not actively thought about.
“Cook!” he called out, and tried not to hate the waver that came through with the volume.
Wild was nowhere near in sight, but that didn’t keep him from responding in kind, from somewhere further up along the path.
“Yeah?”
He’d had words, but his eyes were still locked on the bird-like creature (monster? statue?? thing???) and they ended up elusive, and he currently had no patience to chase after them. So instead, he raised his free arm dramatically high, before pointing a finger directly at the top of the hill.
And if someone were to point it out, he’d deny that his hand was still shaking.
I requested some drabble prompts to get back into the groove, and @azalea-scroggs-archive gave me, (paraphrased)
"Wild tries to climb the Clock Tower in Termina"!
---
Wild’s fingers found careful purchase on a slightly outwards protruding brick, a head’s length above him, and multiple cheers rang out from below.
“Watch the rotating bit!” Wind’s excited instructions echoed across the plaza. An expression of pure glee had settled on the sailor’s face, his energetic bopping only contained by the hand Sky had placed on the boy’s shoulder to ground him.
Twilight’s already concerned glare was joined by the emphasis of a little bit more colour draining from it, when Wild, instead of shouting back, lifted his other hand to give a thumbs up. A sigh heavy with resignation left the rancher while he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Isn’t that a dead end now?” Hyrule mumbled, eyes trained on the champion with investigative quality in them. Next to him, arms crossed and a flicker of purple hushing through his irises, Four gave a small shrug.
“Bit hard to see from here. I’d assume he didn’t make that jump for no reason.”
“Point.”
A little behind them, Warriors passed an assortment of differently sized and coloured rupees into Legend's open and waiting palm.
The sounds of a bustling town drowned out the rest of any conversation, construction noise of hammers meeting wood, materials being hauled into or out of place, and the booming voices of various workers melding into a buzzing background. The sun stood high above their heads, its rays’ path barely disturbed by the small amount of clouds passing with the wind - the moon nowhere to be seen.
Clock Town’s southern plaza always sprang to life as the carnival approached.
Time was used to the distractions. To his mind, the town would present as rather dreary and empty without the constant preparation and people rushing about, carrying drapes and posters to hang on stalls and walls alike and spearheading last-minute adjustments.
His attention instead rested on both the boys standing on at the foot of the town’s namesake Clock Tower on the cobblestone, and the Hero of the Wild, who half-crouched half-hung multiple dozen feet above their heads on said structure, precariously close to the shifting outer ring of its massive wooden clock. He wasn’t currently making progress, likely scrutinizing how to further proceed after his last maneuver.
“Should we tell them about the stairs opening at midnight?”
Time cocked his head to look at the man by his side. Kafei’s violet hair had darkened over the decades, yet it still framed his face the same, and accentuated the curious gleaming in his eyes while he kept watch of the champion.
Time returned a smile, not bothering to hide the mischief he felt seeping into it while he turned back as well. Just in time to see Wild leap for yet another out-of-place brick, and the accompanying cheers and warning shouts intermingling from the rest of the heroes.
“Leave them be,” he said, and stemmed a hand against his side. “It’s more fun to watch this way.”
