#Apparently Sky gets prophetic dreams

[crazylittlejester]

DAILY BRAINROT

Okay, so I did some fact-checking and learned that Sky, Legend, and Time all experience prophetic dreams. Although it should be noted that those dreams are only usually about Zelda and the bad guy. Probably so that they don't give away the entirety of the plot.

Side Note: Apparently Wild can have prophetic dreams about horses under specific conditions or something, but he's not really on the list because that's weird and not exactly helpful for Sky Angst.

Anyway, I'm going to take advantage of this and try to figure out a way for Time and Legend to bond over the horrific experience of trying to prevent Sky from dying in the future because I can.

I ended up adding a new document to my WIPS folder, so here you go. In exchange for listening to me plot out how I'm going to torture these guys, I've got a snippet.

CW: this is technically a scene in which a child is murdered

It was dark, only the stars that winked from behind thick, storming clouds providing any light to see with. There was a sharp crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning cut across the horizon viciously. The mud underneath his feet had been sandy soil not that long ago, but the pouring rain had already turned it into a slick surface unfit for traveling. He couldn’t get quite enough air into his lungs, and what he did manage to breathe in was half water, choking him as he spluttered and tried to spit it out. There wasn’t time to take a moment and calm his heart, though, because a large and imposing figure loomed in front of him, a massive steed with armor glinting in the night. Another bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, and he almost choked for a second time when he recognized the face of the man before him. Ganondorf. The Gerudo king raised a sword threateningly as he struggled to lift his sword arm, only to realize that the hand had been mangled in the handle of a shield and his other arm was broken in more places than one. A weak sound of fear slipped past his lips as the sword came down, the ravenous cold that had been in his body suddenly being driven out by the explosion of hot pain and blood that burst from his chest—

Oooh yeah, limiting prophetic dreams to Zelda and the bad guy was probably necessary for protecting plot. And go crazy dude that sounds awesome >:)

We love Wild and his odd prophetic horse dreams 😔💔

WOAAAAAAH IM SO INTERESTED TO SEE WHERE YOU’RE GOING WITH THAT SNIPPET. Thank you for sharing with me, as always. I know i’ve said it before but i really do look forward to these every day :)

[sigmaelxgr]

The Tower in Reverse for the Major Arcana asks.

Oh hello, dear ! You've chosen to hear about disasters? Ill tell you about disasters. I'll tell you about things people ignore but can from time to time sense about Xangr. The pure, elaborated, velvet sweetness of his tone and gestures having a ô so subtle undertone of a warning. The remaining aptitude that keeps them in line, both in fascination and apprehension. To introduce, I'll recall this ask, about his smile.

Xangr is capable of the best and very inclined of the worst. Its written on his face. He's extremely dunmeri in his proportion to deal with dark happenings and more specifically, he's vengeful. If you ever do something that annoys him, you wont even learn about it until something AWFUL occurs and he's there staring. If you ever hurt him, he'll smile with such honey lips, his eyes shining like daggers, like already appreciating the sight of your anguish. It WILL happen. This mer is a prophete: if he says, it WILL happen. And oh no you DONT WANT Xangr to whisper to you that he's midly inconvenienced with you. The secret swings in his apparently still humors makes him unpredictable, and extremely reassuring on the outside.

This mer has a taste for demise. He waits for Baar Dau to fall. He waits for the Divines to shatter. He waits for Mannimarco to come back. He waits for the Telvanni house to burn bright... And younger, he has sought for Nirn's end. End of the introduction, let's get to it:

The Tower in Reverse: When have your character's actions led to disaster ?

I'll have to make a list.

- As a child, still ashlander, Sigmael got scared and shot a lady with his bow. She thought he was stuck in a dwemeri pipe and wanted to help him out, he killed her instead. It putted immense tension between the Erabenimsun and their Redoran neighbours and led, years later, to their exile. Sigmael was 10 years old, and the wise-woman dreams were predicting he'd shatter the sky to drip a blood so blue Oblivion would expand on Nirn, from his child hands.

- Years later, caught then enslaved for the Telvannis, Xangr appears. Xangr, enraged and absolutely FERAL, traps his master Salaren in his own office and puts it on fire.

- During their 10 years of enslavement, Xangr will attempt to murder Salaren a stupid amont of times. Everything in his hands turned into a weapon, primal wrath made him aiming for the neck, heart and head, and they both exchanged hits and abuse on a daily basis. Still, Salaren adores Xangr (still called Sigmael at the time).

- Xangr eventually got tired that fighting came to no end with Salaren. He chose to saccage his relationship with Asasu instead. She trusted him deeply when he was Sigmael, and became his first victim. Inspired by whispers of his guts, he abused her. She got so shattered by this she pleaded and cried for him to go. Salaren has to listen, Xangr is free. Asasu will never recover, and Xangr learns every kind or violence can lead to his purpose. He's aged around 25.

- In Auridon, tutored by the Altmer Cyriel, he falls in love with him. Cyriel denies their relation as he is both his patient and his pupile, but Xangr insists. He insists so much that Cyriel gave up and had a night with him. It never happened twice despite Xangr's persistance, and Cyriel came to think that even if the dunmer grows better, something is... wrong with him. Cyriel takes distances.

- In Auridon, Cyriel meets a woman then married her. Xangr, absolutely not understanding the idea of marriage, is casted apart bc of how weird he acts with his mentor. He turns bitter then jealous, insanely jealous, and more insanely jealous as Cyriel explains him he cant marry men bc 1) he doesnt like men 2) he has to produce a heir with his wife. Its acted: Xangr hates women. He, too, wants to be married to men but feels so jealous he cannot tolerate women anymore.

- Hating his own body and resolved to do things by himself as Cyriel tries to calm him down, Xangr learns about flesh magic. Its done: he will never come back from it. It will make of him a stupidly good conjurator, and he ends up working for the worms cult, rejecting the mage guild that doesnt allow his studies.

- Fluent in Cyrodilic, Altmeri, Dunmeri and Daedric, he translates as a newcomer the scrolls the Worm master transmits to him. Those scrolls contain instructions to build chains and to grip planes and liminal spaces. He grows interested about this magicka-physical challenge and works tirelessly on it. Years later, the Cell of the Worm he's in build their first dolmen.

- Well considered and treated in the Worm Cult, he's becomming hell of a recruiter. When the planemeld begins and the first anchor falls, Xangr feels in his guts that now there's no turning back anymore, and gives almost his life for his studies. Molag Bal promises him new shapes of his body, the ability to molden it, to even create life, Xangr is obsessed by it. One day, a desperate young Altmer brings her newly bitten young brother. Xangr, seduced by Coldharbour, pretends to them Vampire is a gift. The young man, Valestair, rejects it then flees. His older sister, Qualixte, succombs and embraces vampirism. Xangr is satisfied, such is the Master.

- At the end of the planemeld, Mannimarco betrayed. Xangr falls apart knowing so and Sigmael comes back. Taking off his helmet, Sig leaves the Cell without care. They were in Eastmarch. On the same day, almost all remaining cultists in this cell got killed by nords, as the footprints of Sigmael were leading there. Sigmael/Xangr is considered now a traitor.

- Years and years later, Xangr recovers and changes. He stops working for Molag Bal, which makes him suffer from the remainings of Oblivion he played with. He's growning cold and hungry, more day by day. He's learning to leave by himself, but is still tempted by flesh and repulsed by his own body. A dunmer called Ildaeru comes to him, seeking help, and they will build a strong friendship. Two years ago, Xangr stabbed her in front of Molag Bal's altar, offering her soul to his ancient Master to finally feel warmth again.

- He spended years escaping the Telvanni House as Asasu Llervan gaigned power there. Thirsty for justice and explainations, she seeks him everywhere. On a trip to Summerset, she allied to the Divine Prosecution, explaining a worm cultist was active here. Xangr got caught and lied so GOOD to the justiciars... They ended up thinking the Telvanni house tried to manipulate them into restituing it a lost slave, and as Altmers flatter themselves about not being as rude and brutal as dunmers, they freed him on the Continent for him to flee again. Disastrous, as the allecutions about being a Worm Cultist and bearing forbidden knowledge were true.

And again again again... Its so long to resume it honestly, but it gives a sample <3<3

[somer-writes]

So, I have a million questions I want to ask you about deity stuff, but since apparently I can’t WORD this week, I’ll just ask you what comes to mind since I’m writing a fic with an adjacent question at its core, and I love so many of your stories and insights.

What do you think would make Sky completely lose faith in Hylia? How would he respond, in your opinion?

what a question mark

i got this though, had to hop back on my compooter for this one tho get that full keyboard swagggg

OK throughout many of the zelda games, its demonstrated that good and evil is a conscious choice and effort. some of them explore the characters' boundaries with these choices, others explore the idea of corruptive forces as a natural illness.

and some people might say "well the gods are exempt" except the gods are not! demise and hylia have agency. they make plans and active choices and sacrifices in order to get what they want in whatever fashion that is. even in twilight princess the idea that ganon receives the triforce of power is a cruel joke from the gods

often explored in zelda is this idea of balance. the triforce came from three goddesses and yet we routinely see power be abused or the wielder of power destined to do evil. would this then not mean that the goddesses are also weighing their own virtues against one another in an effort to maintain a harmonious balance of good and evil

i think at its core, the zelda series (perhaps due to OoT having its own overarching religious meta regarding japanese buddhism) explores this notion of an ever present balancing act of good/evil, light/dark, divine/mortal and further that one is necessary for the other

SO what would make sky, a mortal, turn his back on hylia, the divine?

i think hylia actively making a choice of cruelty even for the sake of "the greater good". and maybe further, bc sky is so baked into it from the start, it takes him a while to realize hes been utilized as a pawn to exact some notion of cruel fate on someone else

it could be something dramatic like hylia calling for the death of maybe another mortal, but i think it could even be something which speaks to skys protectiveness. what if zelda was slowly unravelling in a constant tug of war between her own mortality and being a divine vessel? sky watches the woman he loves slowly lose touch with her people but have no company in her righteousness either. if zelda has prophetic dreams, what if she sees her loved ones die? what if sky sees them too? what if sky pleads to hylia to just please show zelda a little bit of mercy and give her some peace and hylia refuses bc thats what zelda was born for

or even within the realm of the heros curse, sky realizing that the curse was never *his* fault the way hes felt, but the result of a struggle between greater powers that he had to intervene in bc hylia *lost*

i dont think sky is entitled in any way, but imagine him sacrificing what remains of his childhood, giving up his own peace and serenity, seeing the ugliness in the world, and hylia cant do him or zelda this *one* favor and let her get a good nights rest or comfort him when he sees the heroes who come after

and then as that begins to snowball, sky slowly dwelling on this idea that he has no choice and never did. groose changes of his own volition. groose morphs from a bully into one of links closest friends (or lovers depending on the hc). groose makes an active decision to become a better person and write his own destiny by entangling himself with zelda and links. zelda and link never had the luxury of choice to begin with. they are divine objects more or less.

link gets to see other skyloftians build lives their way. they pursue their passions and make a place in the world through active self exploration but links fate was written for him before he was even born

and hylias not perfect otw demise would have never needed to be resealed right? he wouldve been destroyed

i think it would be a slow unraveling that starts with just a thread. one bad dream too many, one out of touch remark, one instance of zelda pulling away and i think it unrolls into the rest of this insanity and ultimately leads to an identity crisis

bc perhaps link *does* turn his back on hylia but is that really a choice he has? what happens when hylia needs her chosen hero again? will he be forced to act or simply compelled bc if he doesnt he'll lose everyone and everything?

in a way, that choice gives link an opportunity to exact cruelty himself bc hylia needs him more than he needs her

as for his response to the crisis, i think he would actually grieve. hylia is a lot closer to skyloftians than other instances of hylians. i think link would go through the 5 stages

denying that hylia could ever be capable of doing wrong or making a mistake

angry that it falls on him, angrier that it falls on zelda

bargaining for some kind of answer or response

depressed over his own lack of agency

acceptance that he can still make his own path regardless of faith or not

and i think in the end link would end up in a sort of easy reverence of hylia. not necessarily blind worship of her as maybe he did previously, but a deeper understanding of the worlds natural current. i think ultimately it brings him peace to know that his life *does* mean something, that hes done something worthwhile, and i think he develops his own compass out of it

after all is said in done, i think he relies on hylia and a divine structure less and looks inward for reflections and instincts. to that end, i think he mostly gives up on the hero thing and is determined to form his own identity. hero is not synonymous with good person and i think at his core, link just wants to be a good person and he realizes he can do that without hylias guidance

so i guess the loss of faith isnt a total loss of faith. he would still have faith in hylia to some degree that things will work out but i do think he loses faith in hylias capability

ANYWAY sorry this was so long, hopefully it makes sense lmao

we could get further into legacy too with link realizing that just bc hylia and himself cant be separated, she has nothing on his legacy through say his children or the way the kingdom gets built

[weakheavens]

Dawn Of The Clans

- The Sun Trail

I'm going to be discussing my thoughts of the first book of DOTC here.

First things first, I had been reading Power Of Three before I started this saga and so far I found it very much boring, the cats are fighting over useless things, other than that not much has happened (haven't read the last two books of POT) so starting DOTC was a nice and refreshing change in the story line and I had been looking foward to reading about how the clans came to be.

Summary-

The cats from the Tribe of Rushing Water are having a hard winter due to the large amount of cats in the tribe and the little prey, many of them are dying until Stoneteller gets a prophetic dream of a sunny place where prey never runs out.

She tells the tribe, some want to go on the journey, others hate the idea. In the end those who want to go on the journey to the place where the sun rises may go and those who doesn't may stay.

Gray Wing's brother, Clear Sky, wants to go but he doesn't. After Gray Wing's younger brother runs away hoping to catch up with the Sun Trail cats Gray Wing makes the decision to look for him and bring him to safety in the new territory.

Cats die during the journey and Clear Sky's partner is carried away by an eagle, making him depressed.

The cat who was leading the travelling cats also passes away and Tall Shadow is asked to be the new cat to lead them.

They finally reach the new territory and set to live in the moor, exploring the place they find other cats living there, mostly hostile. Clear Sky decides he wants to leave to the forest as he likes it better there, some cats agree with him, Gray Wing is once again separated from his brother as he stays with some others in the moor.

A cat named Storm is expecting Clear Sky's kits but after seeing how hostile and manipulative he has become she leaves 'his' territory. Next time we see her she passes away and only one of her kits survives, Thunder. Clear Sky disowns him as he reminds him of Storm and Bright Stream (her other partner who died on the journey) but then Gray Wing decides to parent Thunder in the moor with the other cats.

Also forgot to mention but Clear Sky becomes really hostile towards any cat who crosses into the forest because apparently it's now his and if there's any cat in his base who doesn't follow his orders or can't cooperate exactly like he wants them to he exiles them.

Opinions-

Gray Wing- I personally really really liked him at first, I like how he thought for himself insead of doing what others told him to and how the reason he left the mountains was to make sure his little brother was ok. He was kind to the cats of the tribe and always made sure others were safe, as well as he never really got extremely angry with anyone, Clear Sky would be reminding his younger brother of how stupid his actions had been but Gray Wing just accepts that the past cannot be changed.

Once they get to the new territory he is kind to the stray cats there even if they try to be hostile towards him and tries to learn about them. What I didn't like is the way he completely ignores Turtle Tail and dismisses her feelings, every time he tries to make things alright he just makes them worse? But anyway, I just hope he isn't ruined in the next books.

Clear Sky- During the first chapters I didn't understand why everyone hated him so much... now I do. I didn't dislike him at first, sure he wasn't the best and kinda made Bright Stream join the Sun Trail thought she didn't seem to like the idea much but he was alright.

After him and Gray Wing talk and become close once again I liked him but after he leaves to the forest and begins to call the territory his... gosh.

He gets a bunch of cats to fight if anyone sets foot in the forest and kill them if needed, he doesn't let some cats leave the camp and doesn't let the cats from the moor come to visit their own family, they drive them out and call them prey stealers. Then when Jagged Peak gets hurt he claims the "medicine" cat from the moor and doesn't let him out of camp until his job is done. Once he sees Jagged Peak is "just taking space" he exiles him, he was his brother.

Not to mention how badly he treated Storm and how he didn't care she had left when she was so close to giving birth.

Also he nearly makes his guards kill his brother and when he kills one of them in self defense Clear Sky gets mad??

My overall opinion on the book is that I liked it, I like how the cats are described, Tall Shadow as being quiet but speaking smart things when she has to, Wind and Gorse are so cool and I love when they befriend the Sun Trail cats. I really liked them relationship between the travelling cats and what happens to them, I think it was a nice break from POT as I was getting a bit bored from it so yeah!

I hope Gray Wing doesn't become more annoying on the next books aoqidbqlidjdq

[luimagines]

oooh i have an idea, how would dear reader reacts to the chain's secrets? they could be canon like wolfie being twi, or something you headcanon!

Masterlist

I procrastinated on this one admittedly because I had no idea where to take it but after writing out a list and appointing a secret to each boy. I have it done.

Some things are definitely headcanons.

Part one will include Hyrule, Sky, Warrior, Four and Wild.

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

The battle wasn’t necessarily hard to deal with- the monsters weren’t difficult to deal with and there weren’t a lot of them to begin with.

You slashed, dashed and kicked every enemy away from you and watched as they fell to your blade. Every new step revealed a new purple cloud as you danced around the battle field.

You saw Wild and Twilight fighting back to back with practiced ease and handling it as well as you were. Warrior and Sky was side by side closer to Time and Legend than the rest of the group was and Four and Wind were up in the trees striking the enemy down at a distance and no doubt scheming something while the going was easy.

The only one you had no idea where he was, was Hyrule.

And that didn’t take a lot to dive into your brain and wriggle uncomfortably until your own insecure thoughts pushed you to go look for him.

Between the monsters and the land mines of purple smoke, it was a little difficult to find him.

But when you do- he does something you don’t fully understand at first.

You manage to run into him in a clearing, but he doesn’t notice you at first. Instead, you see him take his sword and run it through his palm. His blood coats the length of his blade, and it drips down his hand onto the grass below.

He watches the monsters in front of him and dances for a minute around them before he takes a breath and kills them effortlessly.

You frown and step toward him. “Why did you do that?”

Hyrule jumps higher than should be physically possible and doesn’t catch himself on the way down. He falls flat on his butt and looks up at you with wide and startled eyes.

“Are you ok?” You kneels next to him and go to take his injured hand. “What on earth were you trying to do?

Hyrule jerks his hand back like you’ve burned him and you see the magic flow through the air around his wound- closing it like it never happened.

“Link?” You frown again and slowly place your hand in your lap. You’re confused and a little afraid for him. You know that blood magic is taboo for a reason and is typically avoided more often than not because of its’s dark nature- but you never thought Hyrule of all people would dabble in it.

“I’m fine.”

“Link.” You stress a little more. “What were you trying to do? I didn’t think you were capable of blood magic... At least you don’t usually use those kind of spells. Is that why you fight on your own for a while each time?”

“I’m not using blood magic.” Hyrule frowns and stands abruptly. 

“Then why-?”

“It’s not important.”

“Hyrule, you’re hurting yourself. I’d say that that’s pretty important.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t make me get Time.” You threaten. “I’ll get Legend too. I bet they’ll get some answers out of you.”

“You won’t just drop it, will you?” He sneers

“Nope.” You stand and cross your arms. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was just checking something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like if a curse would work or something?”

Hyrule tenses and he crosses his arms- instantly looking away from you.

“WERE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO CAST A CURSE?!” You screech.

“THE CURSE WAS CAST ON ME!” He yells back.

You both still for a moment and wait for the forest to show any signs that others might have heard you.

The sounds of distant fighting continues and after a minute of waiting some more, no one shows up to check on either of you, so you’re safe.

You turn back to your companion and furrows your eyebrows. You lower your voice just above a whisper just in case someone might be on the way but now you need answers. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He scowls- a face you’re not used to seeing on him and throws his arms down his sides in anger. “Back home, Ganon cast a curse on me. The monsters need my blood in order to resurrect him and I can’t risk letting any monsters from my time getting to me. I need to check if the other monsters will follow suit.”

You blink, not expecting that answer but your anger flares up regardless. “So you go out on your own to check this curse because your blood is needed to resurrect hatred incarnate? What if you’re overpowered? What if they do react to it? How are we supposed to help you if you’re alone?”

“It’s my problem to deal with. I don’t need-”

“Shut up.” You scowl and grab him by the shoulders. You shake him roughly for as long as you speak. “We are your friends! We care about you! We don’t want to see you hurt! We’re going to help you! Whether you want it or not- we’re not to let you deal with this alone. Not while we’re here.”

“Stop shaking me.”

You let him go.

“I won’t tell the others because I know you wouldn’t like that.” You say. “But this stops today. You hear me? None of us are just going to let these freaks near you and this is not necessary while you have a whole team of heroes just as pissed about the situation as you are. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“How clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

Sky 

Sky wakes up one day with a far away look in his eye which immediately puts you on edge.

Not only that but to make it worse, he doesn’t stop looking at you.

He looks scared.

Every five minutes you swear you catch him looking in your direction only to look away in haste when you look back at him.

No one is saying anything and it doesn’t help your paranoia.

With some people walking ahead you, you step back and take a spot next to Sky. You notice that he’s tense and walking robotically, and trying to match your pace. “Dude, what’s up? You’re freaking me out.”

Sky trips over himself and finally looks you in the eye. “What do you mean?”

“You woke up like you saw a ghost. You’ve been looking over to me every five minutes and even now you look like you want to sprint away from me. Did I do something?”

“I.. Ummm...” Sky stutters for a minute before swallowing whatever lump was in his throat. “I just had a dream... is all.... I’ll get over it.”

“I’m assuming it had something to do with me then.”

“No, not exactly.” Sky’s quick to speak even if you can see the beginning’s of sweat collect on his brow. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Want to talk about it?” You tilt your head. “It looks like it really shook you up.”

“Oh, um, I-”

“Maybe you died and Sky freaked out.” Legend pushes you forward and away from Sky. “He doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.”

“Ok, my god, Legend slow down! Not everyone is as emotionally constipated as you! Talking about things is healthy and important!” You shout over your shoulder, trying to dig your heels into the dirt with little to no luck.

Legend seems a bit stronger right now that he usually is, you bet it’s his power bracelet.

If Sky actually looks a bit paler at Legend’s claim than neither of you notice.

The day passes a little calmer after that, Sky seeming to have calmed down enough to not be so weird and it something you’re quick to forget about.

By the time the afternoon hits, a bunch of dark and foreboding storm clouds roll in.

Somehow, Sky manages to find it in himself to walk next to you again and does his best to stay close.

You don’t mind it and even jokingly pull his sail cloth over your head when it begins to rain on your group. It’s not particularly strong and there’s not a lot of options to rest and take cover, so you bare with it. Sky lets you keep the sail cloth over your head surprisingly.

But then there’s thunder and you see lightning in the distance and bite your lip. “Maybe we should hunker down or something?”

The rain goes from gentle drops to a down pour within seconds and the group runs a bit to gain as much cover as you can in the nearby tree line.

Sky pushes himself in front of you and shoves you behind him with enough force that you’re fully knocked over. In one fluid motion he lifts the Master Sword skyward and charges the blade, tossing it away from the group in a glowing blue arc. It cuts through the grass and even splits the first tree it strikes in half before dissipated into the air. 

You would have been struck by lightning if he didn’t do that.

“Sky?” You get up and try to wipe as much mud off of your pants as you can. “Are you ok? How did you know that would happen?”

Sky gulps and takes a deep breath as he looks at you with wide eyes and understanding. “I saw it in a dream.”

“Oh...” You gasp and reach out to him shakily, putting your hand on his shoulder. “You have dreams then?”

“Yes.” Sky looks at his sword and hesitantly puts it away. “Sometimes.”

“Ok then...” You nod and look around the group. They’re all in varying stages of shock, surprise and concern.

Everyone is looking at Sky.

“We need to get out of the storm.” You say in lieu of changing the topic. ” Who knows if there’s more lightning on the way and there’s a lot of metal within the group.“

“Right.” Time nods and does a not so subtle double take in his attempt to leave it be. “Let’s go.”

You nod back and nod once more to Sky and wrap your arm around his shoulder. you lead him forward and lean into his space to whisper into his ear. “Thanks.”

“I’m just glad I made in time.”

“We’ll talk later ok?” You smile in hopes of alleviating some of the tension. “I have some questions if you’re willing to indulge me.”

“I suppose it’s only fair.”

Warrior

“He’s a cute kid.” Warrior mentions randomly one day. 

You startle and jump, nearly dropping the image. You scramble to catch it and successfully do so after playing hot potato with yourself.

“Warrior, a little warning please.” You sigh and attempt to clean your finger print smudges on the glass. “But yeah, my little brother is cute. I hope he stays that way.”

“I don’t think you have much to worry about.” Warrior shrugs. “He grows up to be a fine and upstanding young man. Good looks run in the family. ”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Thank you, I’m sure they do.”

Warrior comes to stand next to you and gently turns the glass over to see the image better.

“Warrior?”

“Hm?”

“Am I doing the right thing?” You sigh.

“What do you mean? I’d say you are. Sacrificing yourself for the good of a better tomorrow- for your family- for your loved ones- but that’s not what you’re talking about are you?” Warrior lets you take the image back.

“But he’s so young... and I’m supposed to take care of him.” You gulp. “I just want him to be safe and sound and healthy but I can’t really do that from- from... I’m here instead.“

“Well... no said it was going to be easy.” Warrior offers lamely.

“What if he grows up to hate me?” You clench the glass tighter at the thought. “I just abandoned him, didn’t I? Oh my god-”

“Hey. He loves you.” Warrior takes your shoulders in his hands and shakes you somewhat. “He admires you greatly. You’re his hero. He looks up to you even now. He’ll understand when the time comes.”

“Even now?” You sniff. “What does that mean?”

“Years have passed and he hasn’t stopped looking up to you and how you did everything you could for him, for Zelda and he’s trying to make you proud-”

“Warrior he’s five, how do you know this?”

His mouth shuts with a click of his teeth.

“Warrior.” 

“Um... I... He...”

“Link.” You pocket the glass and face him head on. “When did you meet my brother?”

He stares at you for a moment and deflates. “During... during the war of my era.”  

“...What?”

Warrior hisses and brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “He showed up around the same time that Wind did but he talked about you.... and I guess you talk to him about me because he wasn’t really surprised at what was happening.”

“How old was he?” You bite your lip, already dreading the news.

“Older than me actually.” He offers with a tight smile. “I never asked him but if I had to guess I would have put him in his mid twenties. The oldest Link to start his adventure compared to the rest of us...”

“But he still...” You deflate as well and hug your arms around yourself. “He still has to go doesn’t he? I can’t save him from it. Even now, I... I can’t- I fail him in the end then.” 

“He doesn’t see it that way at all.” Warrior catches you before you fall to your knees in despair. “He admires everything you’ve done for him, everything you’re currently doing. You kept him from danger for as long as you could- until he was old enough to take on his destiny. That’s more than any of us could say.”

“I don’t want him to go through any of it though.” You sob and lean into Warrior for support. “That’s my baby brother Warrior- how am I supposed to be ok with this?”

“I don’t think there is a way.” He admits. “Nor do I think you should be.”

“I can’t keep him from it.”

“But you can and have been postponing it.” Warrior rubs circles into your shoulder as you cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you even more.”

“I miss him.”

“You’ll see him again.” Warrior grips you tightly. “He also did very well all things considered. He became an older brother to me and to Sprite and Wind... I don’t think Wind has figured it out yet that your brother and Lucky are the same Link though.”

You sniffle and calm down slightly. “Was he awesome?”

A laugh is startled out of him and he chokes on the snort and cough that tries to leave him at the same time. “I’d say he was better than me... And he claims to have never held a sword until then.”

“Good.” You nod. “He’s the best brother in the whole world.”

“Yeah, he was.”

Four

You’re walking on a random trail as the day dies down and you’re partner is Four for the hour.

The sun rests behind you comfortably and you talk about the different weapons from each others Hyrule. You’re no smith- but you do think it’s an interesting process and try to take notes where you can.

As you trade your notes and laugh at the more ridiculous stories from one another, you look down and notice something weird with Four’s shadow.

It almost looked like it was laughing along too... in the opposite direction that Four was looking in. But you blink and it’s as if it never there.

Maybe you’re tired.

You have been walking all day and perhaps it was a trick of the light.

You don’t think on it too much and go back to talking with your friend.

Hours later-you’d think that it would be the end of it but it isn’t.

In fact, you can’t sleep. And the way it moved was different than it should have been and the more you look into the memory there more obscurities than there should be. Not to mention that Four gets weird around shadows or whenever they are mentioned.

You stare up at the star filled sky as you think about the incident.

“I’m telling you I think they saw me.” A new voice says.

You’re thrust into the moment and attune your hearing to the direction it came from.

“I think you’re thinking too much into it. How could they have seen you?” It’s Four.

You close your eyes and roll over in the same direction, pretending to still be asleep.

The voices take a minute to pick up again when you do that.

They were watching you.

“They stared at me for a solid minute- how did you miss that?” New voices hisses.

“They were laughing-”

“You were laughing, you love sick fool. They looked at me. They saw me. I’m going to blow the secret and you’re not even listening to my warning.”

Your eyes snap open and you push yourself up as quickly as you can.

You instantly spot Four sitting by the fire, but you’re not surprised by that. What really takes your attention is the new person next to him- who looks uncannily like your friend.

But with purple hair...

And red eyes...

And darker skin...

“Four what the hell?” You blurt.

Four responds quickly and as intelligently as he can manage.  “Uhhhh...”

The person next to him curses and runs a hand through his hair. “I told you. I told you. I told you.”

You lock eyes with the new guy and introduce yourself.

He huffs and crosses his arms, his face darkening slightly- or again- maybe it was a trick of the light. “I’m Four’s shadow.”

“His... shadow...?”

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

You nod, wide eyed before turning to Four with a million questions in your eyes. He can see it and holds his hand up to his mouth, pressing his knuckles harshly against his teeth as he waits for them to start flowing out of your mouth.

“Love sick fool?”

“Shadow you snitch!” Four screeches and takes a swing at him.

His cry is loud enough rouse some of the others but only really wakes up two of them. You stare tensely as Time and Legend sit up fast enough to nearly throw themselves into the fire as they turn to Four.

“Sorry.” You whisper yell to save his honor.

Shadow is nowhere to be found.

Time and Legend turn to you as the only other one awake and each raise an eyebrow in tandem.

“Ni-nightmare. I yelled. I’m sorry.” You try to act like you just woke up as well and try to hunker down into your blankets.

Time sighs and wipes his eyes. “You ok?”

“I will be.” You try to smile but you’re too nervous and it comes out more forced than it should- but perhaps that helps you sell your little fib.

Legend for his part glares at you before he sits down with a solid thump and throws himself dramatically back into his bedroll. 

No words are exchanged between you two.

“Everything alright Four?” Time yawns as he also begins to lie down again.

“Yeah. All good here.” Four laugh nervously and waves him away.

Time nods, no longer paying attention and slowly... nearly half an hour later, you see that the two of them have fallen asleep again. Thankfully neither of them seem to realize that it didn’t sound like your voice at all.

Shadow appears again from somewhere and takes his spot next to Four. “Nice going.”

“Shut up.”

“Four, I have questions.” You sit up and make your way over to the two of them.

Shadow raises an eyebrow. “What’s there to explain?”

“Everything?”

“Ok. Ok. Both of you, don’t start. You caught us fair and square. Sit down.” Four sighs and gestures to the other spot next to him. “It’ll take a while.”

“Done.” You grin and nearly run over a sleeping Sky in the process. “Tell me everything.”

Wild

“Has anyone seen Mr. Champion?” You glance up after doing a supply check through your bag. You’re running a little low on rations and know the resident cook usually has some to spare.

But you haven’t seen him in a while.

“Didn’t he go to get fire wood?” Wind tilts his head.

“Wasn’t that at least an hour ago?” You respond, furrowing your eyebrows as you think about it more. Where did Wild go?

“He hasn’t come back yet?” Warrior sits up straighter. Now the rest of the group is a little more aware of their missing member and each start subconsciously checking the tree line as if he were about to come back that very second.

“I can go look for him.” You offer, standing up. “Maybe he got distracted. We are in a new area.”

“Oh great, he could be miles away and we’d never know.” Legend groans and throws his head back. “Just what we needed.”

“Have a little faith Vet.” You snort. With a quick jump and skip over the supplies, you begin to leave the camp behind. “Try calling him Wind, I’ll see if I can go find our missing chef before dinner.”

“Please do.” Time nods. “We’ll start a full search party if you’re not back within the next hour though. It’s getting too dark.”

“Noted.”

“I could find him faster.” You hear Twilight say but you’re already too far away to back down now.

Truthfully, you have no idea where to start- but you imagine that to find Wild- one must think like Wild.

You pick a direction and stick with it.

At some point maybe fifteen minutes in you reach a small creek and begin to follow to stream upwards.

It’s really more like you’re taking a hike than searching for your friend and you begin to feel a little stupid even if realistically there’s no other way for this to be done.

That is- until you see him anyway.

He’s seems to be frozen in place, staring off into the distance with his hands still held mid air, gripping the canteen he appears to have been filling up.

It confuses you and you stand there staring at him to move- to blink- to do something. But he doesn’t. “Wild?”

No response.

“Champion?” You call a little louder and begin to tip toe a little closer to him. You’re afraid that even the slightest snapping of a twig would break whatever spell he’s under and you don’t fancy a violent reaction out the man who can easily blow the whole area up with little to nothing.

But still no response.

“Link!” You hiss and eventually reach his side. He hasn’t once turned in your direction or even acknowledged your presence and you begin to doubt that he’s even conscious.

His eyes are open and he’s knelt beside the creek but maybe he got hit with some magic or something- you don’t know.

You gulp and place a hand on his shoulder. You shake him lightly but when that also proves to not do anything you begin to shake him more and more until you nearly throw him over-but he does not react at all.

“Oh boy... What on earth happened to you?” You bite you lip and begin to look around. He’s too heavy for you to carry on your own and also too far away to yell for help or assistance.

You should have dragged Twilight with you.

Suddenly he takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly, shaking himself back into the present. 

You freeze and tense up considerably as you watch him come back to himself.

Wild stretches and looks up at the sky before standing up. “Twilight’s not going to like this.”

“No. I don’t think so.” You reply.

He freezes as well and looks at you by only shifting his eyes. “How long were you here for?”

“A while...” You admit. “Maybe fifteen minutes. You were gone for over an hour. I got worried.”

“Oh. That’s not so bad then.”

“You ok?” You gulp and slowly drop your shoulders from your ears and unclench your fists.

“Yup. Peachy.”

You nod and continue to lower your guard- not trusting this one bit. “May I ask what that was?”

“Just a memory.” He shrugs and tries to walk past you.

“A memory?” You frown and turn on your heel to follow him. “A memory? I shook you head enough to nearly throw you into the water and you claim it was because of a flashback? I’ve heard of disassociation before but I think this is more like astral projection through dimensions. You were completely gone!”

“It happens from time to time. Nothing to worry about.”

“What if something came up behind you and killed you?” You argue. “I’d say that’s something to worry about. Does this happen often?”

“Everyone once in a while. Maybe once every other month. It depends really. It doesn’t happen as often as it did in the beginning though.” Wild admits and gestures for you to follow him.

You do- but you keep asking him questions.

“So this is normal?”

“For me? Yes.”

“For you?”

“I...” Wild hisses slightly as another thought comes to his mind. “I never told you did I?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m going to assume that no, you didn’t.”

“I get memories from my old life from time to time when something triggers them. I used to have amnesia but I’ve got most of the my memories back at this point... By now it’s just filling in little blanks.” Wild shrugs. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh...” Understanding calms you somewhat. At least it’s not a magic spell or anything. “How did you get amnesia? Do you remember that?”

Wild stops in his tracks and looks at the ground momentarily before looking up again and walking forward. “I died.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I died.”

“Huh?”

“I. Died.”

“WILD!” You tense up again and follow him without hesitation. “What do you mean you died? Did you heart just stop or were you like blow up or something- Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I’m being super insensitive right now, aren’t I? But I don’t understand! I don’t- Wild- Link- you can’t just drop a bomb like that. Are you like a ghost or something? No. Wait. You can bleed and I’ve seen you crash into more walls and rocks than I care to admit.”

“This isn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting.” Wild frowns and cuts you off. 

“ArE YOu oK?!”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

“But that’s not what I mean- How can that even make sense-”

“Where did you think I got my scars from?” Wild cuts you off once more with a barely restrained snort as he bites his lip.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m fine I promise.”

“Wild nooo....” You whine and Wild thinks for a minute that the information upset you so much that you’re going to cry. “Who did it? I’ll kill them with my bare hands. Who hurt you?”

Wild comes to a full stop again and sighs. Deep and tired but he tilts his head and offers you his hand. “Do you want the short story or the long?”

“Long story please.”

For the first time since this conversation started, Wild smiles even if it’s faint and subtle. “Alright, let’s take the scenic route back. This might take a while.”

Part 2

[blessedforever195]

The Origin of the Skychildren

I am back! I have realized that a lot of my theories about sky lore are based on the assumption that Skykids are a different species from the spirits. And I was looking around and saw that, apparently, most of us have a different understanding of where Skykids come from, what they’re made from, etc. So I thought I’d outline my headcanon about the origin of the Skychildren for reference, and to make sure all of my theories are a bit more streamlined in the future. 

I have also included the obligatory "keep reading" thingy because this post gets really, really long.

Okay. So. From what I can tell, the first appearance of the Skychildren occurred before Eden fell, in the Isle of the Dawn. In the memories of the Ushering Stargazer, we see a Skykid fall from the sky meteor-style. In some histories, this Skychild has been identified as the first (and last) king of Eden.

Now, the timeline I am about to outline differs from person to person. Sky lore is mostly fandom-made, so of course, each fan will disagree on key elements. So I will not go into any specifics that do not relate to the topic of this post. Quick disclaimer: I also might accidentally disagree with what small amount of in-game evidence we are given. I tend to focus on the events of the Fall and its effects, rather than the history of the civilization that thrived before the Darkness. So please, please correct me if I get something wrong.

The Prophets of the Isle had several duties, among them the recording of prophecies granted to them by the higher powers. How the Prophecy that is painted on the walls of the Cave of Prophecies originally came to be is unknown. Was it given to any specific prophet in a dream? Or was it given to not just one prophet, but several? Were the prophets so moved by these images they painted them on the walls of the cave? It is possible that it simply appeared one day, immortalized on the cold stone as if had always been there. It is also possible that the cave did not exist until the appearance of the Prophecy, bringing along with it the four elemental trials. 

We might never know. What we do know is this: The Prophecy came, and it detailed the arrival of a king. 

The king could have been anyone, from any realm, any age, any profession. No qualifications were necessary, other than one simple little thing. The king, whoever they may be, had to survive all four elemental trials.

The trials were deadly. One mistake meant death. Still, many threw themselves at the gauntlet, and not one survived. We do not know how long this process went on, or how many thousands tried and failed. The prophets took on disciples and trained them for the trials in a futile attempt to ensure a monarch. 

Then, a child fell from the sky. 

They were a strange being. They had no face behind the mask they wore, but somehow the eye-holes glowed. (I am aware some spirits share the same characteristic, but it is my belief that those spirits were not strong enough to form features as well as memories upon their death). They also had no hair, but that did not seem so strange until the ancestors learned that the child could mimic any hairstyle they wanted, regardless of this handicap. Did the ancestors worship this child? Fear them? Revere them? We do not know. But one of them must have told the child of a prophecy in the cave of the isle, because we do know the child underwent the trials.

And the child lived.

This is the first difference between the Skychildren and the ancestors. The ancestors are mortal. The Skychildren are not. 

To the ancestors, life is linear. One is born, one lives, and one dies. If they are lucky they preserve a shadow of themselves as a spirit to instruct the new generations. There is no going back, only forward.

To the Skychildren, life is cyclical. Death is only a mere handicap, and life is as long as one wishes it to be, if by life you mean “corporeal.” Skychildren are capable of shedding their bodies for a time and ascending to Orbit. Most of the time, this shedding is a choice, although that discussion deserves a post of its own rather than a tangent in this one.

Anyway, the first Skychild lived. We do not know how many times he might have died while participating in the trials, only that he emerged unscathed and victorious. He was summarily crowned king, although whether or not this was a mistake is a matter of furious debate. 

There are other differences between the ancestors and the Skychildren, and for these, we do not have to recount so much history to understand. There are the remnants of a field in the golden wasteland, a ways behind the Forgotten Ark. It was made by the survivors of the shipwreck there. We know it is an attempt at a farm through the memories of the Scarecrow Farmer, who shows us his attempts at keeping the field clear of pests.

What does this field tell us? Well, it tells us that the ancestors needed to eat to survive. If game mechanics are to be believed, the Skychildren do not. Rather, we subsist on what seems to be the glowing remnants of other fellow Skychildren.

Is this cannibalism? I’ve no idea. I also do not wish to derail this post with yet another discussion on the unexpected cannibalism of sky COTL, which I seem to be fond of doing. Moving on.

So, if the ancestors and the Skychildren are fundamentally different species, what are they? The answer depends on who you ask. If you’ve made it this far (Hi!!!), I shall assume you have asked me. Therefore, here are my answers.

It is my belief that the ancestors were human. The few details we know about them seem to fit into the description of a human, or at least a human-adjacent. 

As for the Skychildren, I think they are fallen stars. 

The first Skychild fell from the sky, much like we imagine a star would. And this quirk does not just belong to them alone. Our species is depicted as falling from the sky in the intro to the game. We are creatures of light, so much so that we seem to be made from light itself. Darkness, to us, is poison.

If we are stars, we certainly aren’t very strong ones. That title belongs to the elders, the stars that seemed to rule the humans before the Darkness came. If we were gods, the Elders’ power would be on a similar level to Zeus and Hades, Hera and Athena. The Skychildren would be known as minor deities, perhaps Hecate or Psyche. 

Although we are not strong, our task is a great one. We are to do what the Elders cannot, and that is to save the world they have ruined. It is the Skychildren who were tasked with clearing out the shards in the Season of Shattering, after all. It is the Skychildren who halt the poisonous rain in the Hidden Forest, the Skychildren who heal the Forgotten Ark, the Skychildren who gift the Elders the light they lost. 

We are not strong, but we are many. Perhaps that is enough.

[bluerose5]

A Sense of Belonging

[Yes, I definitely did write this after meeting Zathrian's clan because of all the condescension towards city elves. Darrian just needed some comfort. ;-; ]

Pairing: Darrian Tabris/Zevran Arainai

Word Count: 2,660

Also on Ao3.

It wasn't long after the sun had set when Wynne and Alistair retired for the evening.

Their fire crackled yet dwindled, casting an orange glow over their campsite. The light danced in the shadows, its arms outstretched towards the night sky.

Darrian raised his hands, palms facing the flames in an attempt to absorb whatever heat the fire could provide.

They remained on the outskirts of the Dalish camp, able to see yet unable to partake.

After all, they were outsiders. That much had been made apparent enough.

Before he could delve too deep into such thoughts, a blanket wrapped itself around his shoulders. Darrian startled, glancing up in time to catch sight of Zevran, only to have him burrow underneath the blanket against Darrian's side.

Settling in together, Darrian felt the tips of his ears warm. Zevran leaned his head upon Darrian’s shoulder, their arms wrapped around one another in a snug embrace.

For a moment, they were quiet, simply taking in the comfortable silence between them, their eyes fixated on the flames.

Then, Zevran spoke.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

Darrian snorted.

"When you say 'something,' do you mean am I thinking about how I had to venture into the Fade to save the Circle of Magi, or maybe you meant the whole part where we cured a human noble with some magical ashes from their dead prophet?"

"Don't forget the part where the infamous Grey Warden threatened to turn his lover into a golem," Zevran deadpanned. "Oh, how I enjoyed that part."

"Well…" Darrian sniffed in disdain. "I was just trying to make a point. That anvil is better off destroyed than in the hands of someone like Branka."

It wasn't really that hard of a decision.

Besides, after all she had done to those entrusted to her care, Darrian couldn't let her get away with it without some form of retribution.

The broodmother still haunted Darrian’s dreams. Every morning he awakened, he could still hear the ominous echoes of Hespith's poem.

He knew it was bad when those nightmares somehow managed to drown out even the whispers of the Archdemon.

Zevran tsked at him with a shake of his head.

"Yes, yes, I know. You made your point perfectly clear in the Deep Roads," he grumbled. "You and your heroic sentimentality."

"Aw, but Zev," he whined, grinning in spite of himself. "I thought you adore my heroic sentimentality, though."

When Darrian poked his bottom lip out into a pout, Zevran rolled his eyes at him with a fond smile.

"Perhaps a little," he allowed, leaning in to brush his lips along Darrian's. "Besides, I would say that you more than made it up to me back at camp."

How he delighted in watching that soft dusting of a blush spread from Darrian's ears to his cheeks.

"I only live to serve," Darrian joked, stealing a quick peck.

Zevran might have stolen one of his own in turn, and then another. This time, lingering.

As the kiss grew longer and more passionate, Darrian beamed each time one of them would pull away a little, only for the other to chase after their lips. Zevran could feel how Darrian’s lips curved against his with joy, unable to keep his heart from racing in response.

When they eventually parted, gasping for breath, Zevran chided, "Hey, now, that's my line."

"So you keep saying," Darrian sighed. He leaned his forehead against Zevran’s, dark brown eyes trained on golden brown. "But you do realize that I destroyed the Anvil because I abhor the thought of taking away anyone's free will?" He stared pointedly at Zevran. "Yours included. You always bring up your vow of service, yet you know I wouldn't ever hold you to that—"

As soon as Zevran tensed, Darrian knew that he struck a nerve. Zevran pulled away, grumbling while he crossed his arms over his chest.

"There you go again with that," Zevran said, his attempt at a casual, relaxed tone tainted by the underlying tension that always seemed to worm its way into his voice when they had this conversation. "You must really want me to leave if you're so eager to release me from my vow."

Darrian frowned.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Is it not?"

Darrian let out a frustrated groan, taking Zevran’s hand in his with a firm squeeze to demand his attention.

"Of course not," Darrian stated. "I just want you to realize that I want you here because of reasons beyond some vow of servitude."

“Ah, yes, but the problem lies within this simple fact.” Without warning, Zevran shoved Darrian back against the ground. He climbed into Darrian’s lap, straddling his hips with a coy smirk. He stole the blanket and draped it over himself, its soft folds cascading down around them both when Zevran leaned in to press a kiss beneath Darrian’s ear. A shiver shot down Darrian’s spine. Goosebumps spread out across his skin. Zevran’s words fanned out over Darrian’s throat like a sweet, gentle caress. “I happen to enjoy serving under you, amor.”

Darrian had to sink his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a needy whimper when he felt Zevran’s fingers tease at the sliver of skin between his shirt and his trousers.

The instant Darrian squirmed beneath him, Zevran chuckled fondly.

“I–Is that so?” Darrian breathed.

“Mm-hmm…” Trailing off with a low hum, Zevran delivered a playful nip to Darrian’s earlobe. Darrian jolted when Zev gave it a sharp tug, followed by several kisses to soothe the area. “Then again, I’m not exactly a picky man. I enjoy servicing you from the top as well.”

Darrian couldn’t hold back his snort at that, covering his burning face with his hands as he fell into a fit of snickers and giggles.

Zevran watched him in awe. Bracing his hands upon Darrian’s chest, he sat back in his lap to get a better view of him, tracing idle patterns through the fabric of his shirt.

“That was terrible,” Darrian laughed, peeking at Zevran through his fingers. His eyes glistened with tears of happiness, sparkling with endless joy. It was so rare to see him in such a state. Zevran couldn’t help but to savor the moment, committing it to memory. “You insatiable man.”

“What can I say?” Zevran gave a half-shrug. “You bring out the best in me, my dear Warden.” He hesitated, but then reminded himself that he didn’t have to. Zevran knew well enough that any feelings he held for the Warden were returned in kind. “Just so you know, the reason why I’m so attached to my vow is because I absolutely adore being yours. I know that I am my own man, especially in your eyes, but there is simply something so irresistible about the idea of belonging to you…”

Stroking his hands up and down the expanse of Darrian’s chest, Zevran stared down at him through a hooded gaze. He parted his lips, desire taking hold of him.

“It makes my heart sing,” Zevran whispered.

Darrian swallowed under Zevran’s intense scrutiny, his breathing shaky.

When one of Zevran’s hands ventured close, Darrian grabbed it before it could move away, holding it to the center of his chest.

Beneath Zevran’s palm, he could feel Darrian’s heartbeat.

Darrian appraised him, admired how the remnants of their fire played off of his golden strands of hair. How the flames illuminated his profile, framing him in a halo of light.

The words slipped free without a thought.

“I love you,” Darrian said. It was a mere statement of fact and not the first time he had voiced such feelings.

Still, his confessions always managed to catch Zevran off guard.

Zevran tensed for a brief second, soon melting against him.

He then swooped in and crashed his lips against Darrian’s into a bruising kiss, fervent and passionate.

Darrian eagerly responded in kind, one hand finding its way into Zevran’s hair while his free arm wound its way around Zevran’s waist.

They panted harshly against each other’s mouths, deepening the kiss until the heat in their veins threatened to consume them.

They only managed to part when the need for air grew to be too much to handle. Even then, while they gasped to catch their breaths, they still managed a kiss or two in between each one.

For a while, they simply sat there, basking in each other’s presence. They whispered sweet nothings into each other’s skin to fill the silence.

But such a distraction could only last for so long.

Eventually, Darrian’s brow furrowed in a way that Zevran was all too familiar with. He stared at Zevran’s flushed, kiss-swollen lips; and in doing so, Darrian carefully avoided making eye contact with Zevran, focused instead on dragging his thumb along his bottom lip.

Usually, Zevran wasn't one to push, but it was hard to ignore when something was clearly bothering Darrian.

He eyed him for a moment before asking, "What troubles you, my dear?"

Darrian blinked owlishly at the question, as if awakened from a daze.

He glanced in the direction of the Dalish camp, contemplating his answer.

"It's just—"

Darrian waved his hand in a vague gesture, fumbling for the right words.

Fortunately —or, rather unfortunately— Zevran knew the disappointment brewing within those eyes all too well.

"It's simply not what you expected," Zevran said, finishing the thought aloud. At Darrian’s weary nod, Zevran sighed, settling in against his side. He laid his head upon Darrian’s chest, his ear pressed against the spot where his hand once rested. The rhythmic thumping of Darrian’s heart welcomed him. "I know that feeling all too well, amor."

Darrian grimaced.

"Yeah," he murmured, stroking his hand along Zevran’s back. "It's so frustrating, though, mostly because I'm upset at myself for getting my hopes up on some childish whim. My grandparents used to always send me letters from their settlement in Llomerryn. My mother used to always tell me great tales of growing up both among the Dalish and among the dazzling cities in Rivain. I thought that they would welcome us, that I—"

"Could have what she had," Zevran stated.

Darrian hesitated, staring up at the sky for a moment, and nodded.

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled through his nose in a huff.

"The Alienage in Denerim…" He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I miss my family, I miss my friends, but I don't miss the slums. I don't miss keeping my magic a secret or struggling for survival everyday." He trailed off, laughing bitterly. "I was like a wild beast in some of their eyes. A troublemaker, they called me, simply because I didn't want to lay down and accept our lot in life."

Darrian sniffed in disdain, but Zevran remained quiet while he traced patterns along his chest, allowing Darrian to air out these feelings as needed.

"I didn't have much choice to join the Wardens, but I felt so bad because my first thought when I got conscripted was that 'anywhere is better than here!'" He shook his head at himself, clenching his jaw. "Although, truth be told, even being a Warden doesn't feel all that fulfilling at times. It comes with a lot of power and responsibility, don't get me wrong, but the downsides often seem to overshadow the good that comes from it."

"So you don't feel at home in the only home you knew for years, and your sudden, unwilling career change turns out to carry more burdens than you signed up for," Zevran noted. "Then, to top it all off, you finally meet the renowned Dalish that you've heard so much about —the very people that you've dreamt would be your salvation…"

"Only to find out that they think that I'm an inferior 'flat-ear,' at worst," Darrian muttered. "Or in need of their saving and guidance, at best."

"You know," Zevran teased, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin. "This story is starting to sound very familiar to me. I wonder where I've heard it before."

Darrian snorted, running his fingers through Zevran’s hair.

"Are you saying that we're alike?"

"Probably more than you would care to admit."

"On the contrary," Darrian said, "I find it a compliment that you would compare the two of us. I think that's high praise indeed."

Zevran gaped at him, his face lit aflame as it was his turn to become flustered.

Which was saying something, considering the fact that Zevran was never the bashful type.

Leave it to Darrian to conjure such a rare reaction out of him.

Clearing his throat, Zevran eventually found his voice.

"You know," he said, "most people would be utterly offended at being compared to me."

Within the blink of an eye, Darrian had flipped them over with a wicked glint in his dark eyes, smirking at Zevran as he pinned his wrists to the ground. The blanket tangled itself around them, their hips pressed flush together.

"Good thing I'm not 'most people,'" Darrian countered. Soon enough, his expression softened. He reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Zevran’s ear. The instant his hand was within reach, Zevran nuzzled into his touch. "Besides, it makes sense."

"Does it now?" Zevran asked.

When Darrian leaned in to press his lips to Zevran’s throat, the latter arched his neck out on display with a content sigh.

Darrian’s lips traced along the curve of Zevran’s throat, kissing and nipping at soft skin.

"Mm-hmm…" Darrian murmured. "I know the others have their doubts because you're an assassin, but you make me feel safe. You make me feel special."

"Aha! So my master plan is working, after all."

Darrian flicked lightly at Zevran’s ear, earning a pout from the Crow.

"Ow!" Zevran cried out, ever dramatic. "Amor, please! Why must we result to such harsh blows?"

"As if you haven't asked for worse before."

"Ah, yes, but that was in the context of bringing me to your bed, or tent roll, as it may be."

"Okay, the moment's over."

"Wait," Zevran gasped, wrapping his arms around Darrian in a vice-like grip before he could move away. "I'm not finished listening to you sing my praises."

"Uh-huh." Darrian narrowed his eyes at him. "Will you behave this time?"

"Do you want me to answer honestly?"

"Ugh." Darrian grumbled with a roll of his eyes, but no real heat remained in such a motion. If anything, he was trying to resist the urge to smile at his lover's silly antics. "Right. Well, all I was going to say was that, while I care for the others and all of my loved ones back in Denerim, I've never felt as if I truly belonged anywhere as I do when I am with you."

Zevran melted, all of his playfulness gone, replaced instead by a deep, all-consuming heat.

"Oh, is that all?" Zevran asked. In his attempt to come across as indifferent, his breathless tone betrayed him the second he spoke.

And of course, Darrian picked up on that in an instant.

Cupping his cheek, Darrian stared down at him, taking in every last detail.

A pressure built up within him until the words came spilling out.

"You are my home," Darrian stated. "And so long as you will have me, I will gladly remain by your side. Nothing will come between us."

Overcome by a sudden onslaught of emotions, Zevran dragged Darrian down into a tight embrace. He clung to him, burrowed into Darrian’s arms, as if the slightest bit of distance between them would mean their end. He shoved his face into the crook of Darrian’s neck, carefully hidden from view.

He didn't know what had come over him, but Zevran knew one thing and that was that he needed to hold Darrian close.

He needed him to hear the sincerity with which he spoke.

"Nothing," Zevran vowed, making the promise to both Darrian and himself.

[jeweledstone]

Major dream lore drop last night you guys I’m reeling

Ok so this dream happened near immediately after I woke up from a different dream (which isn’t nearly as important so I won’t be recounting it). At the time I thought I was still awake just laying in my bed, until a couple of scientists came into my room. They said they worked with the Spamton Empire and needed a few samples of my blood. I remember asking if it had anything to do with The Web, but they gave a vague answer that I didn’t even understand.

After getting the samples, we were all transported to this city in another universe that was apparently the capital of the empire which… wasn’t nearly as peaceful as I always thought it was. To put it simply, the capital was being invaded by these extradimensional beings that kinda looked like ceruledge from the new pokemon games. They were attacking civilians left and right while city guards dressed as angels tried to fight them off. All while this was happening a giant black hole(?) opened up in the sky and started swallowing other universes in the empire. At this point I was freaking out and I ended up running to find Spamton to make sure he was safe (I remember him almost being killed once pre-empire and was only saved when I made his “death” not canon). Eventually I found him in hiding and had everything explained to me.

Apparently those beings were from a different, and much more hostile multiversal empire who declared war against Spamton’s empire, and whatever entity controlling them had taken away Spamton’s reality bending powers. The only way to restore his powers was to have him injected with my blood, since as you may know, I was the one who granted him the powers in the first place. I asked why he didn’t tell me earlier and he said he didn’t want me to worry about him, explaining that he wanted me to just focus on “archiving” info about the Omniverse in these dream journals. I ended up waking up around that time, but not before creating these little glowing creatures that I tasked with keeping Spamton and his empire safe, no matter what the cost.

So yeah, as far as I know, Spam should have his powers back by now, heck, maybe he’ll end up being even stronger than he was before! (S Tier?) Even so, I hope I can find a way to help win this war, and maybe some of you other lucid dreamers/reality shifters reading this can too. For all I know, the entire Omniverse could be in danger for as long as these extradimensional beings are around! Until then, I’ll keep y’all updated on anything else I learn from my dreams.

Cause apparently that’s my job now. I’m an ambassador of the omniverse, a scholar even, a prophet

…an archivist…

[imagine-loki]

(Tldr: Imagine having a prophetic dream about your soulmate, Loki, before even meeting him)

---

Imagine waking up in a bed that is not your own. The first thing you notice is the usually soft sheets unlike the cheap, old ones that you usually sleep in. Then you notice a strange source of warmth around you, and a strange weight on the left side of what you recognize to be a king-sized bed. It is then that you feel it: Someone is hugging you, big strong arms holding you close to this strangers chest. You turn your head to see the face of a peacefuly sleeping man, eyes shut, holding you, content. His long, dark hair falling a bit over his face, but he still looks astonishingly handsome nonetheless.

Sitting in this position, you feel you subconscious telling you that this is a daily ocurrance, and you are oddly used to it. The thing is, you don't understand why, you have never met this man in your life .

He then wakes up after feeling you stir, a light sleeper apparently. His still sleep-filled eyes look at you with such fondness, you feel your heart skip a beat. His smile, genuine and warm, catches you by surprise too, and you are filled with something oddly warm in your chest... Is it... Adoration? Love...?

He opens his mouth to say something... But then you wake up. In your old scratchy sheets, in your small single bed, in the coldness of your tiny apartment. The loneliness you feel for the first few seconds is intense, like you lost something, before quickly being replaced by confusion. What kind of dream was that...?

It is then that you rember those old stories your grandma used to tell you, about how you would dream of your soulmate not long before you meet them. Of how that dream would give you a glance into your future. Of how wonderful meeting you soulmate would be. You never believed in that sort of thing, but with how intense and vivid that dream was... You were begining to doubt you beliefs

...

With the intent of getting your weekly shopping list sorted out, you walk through the streets of New York. The city is full of people, despite it being relatively early. Suddenly, the sky darkens, and amidst the swirling rain clouds you could have sworn weren't there a second ago, you see a portal open up. A portal. A sci-fi, fantasy-esque portal. Out of it comes a sort of airship, and standing a top of it, a tall man with oddly familiar raven hair stands, a golden helmet with horns standing atop of his head. It is then that you look closer, putting a hand above your eyes to see more clearly against the glare of the shining portal.

Upon a second look, you feel a shiver go down your spine. Those eyes, those you have seen before. Those which once, in an odd dream, you saw look at you so fondly, now are filled with malice and something else you can't quite recognize. Those features, are some you recognize too. That striking nose, that sharp face shape with pronounce cheekbones... You have found your soulmate, the man in that dream you had not too long ago , and it is not in the way you expected.

[awanderingtortoise]

a/n: first of all, i would like to thank my genius brain for answering the ask this stemmed from privately, therefore losing all access to it and anything i typed in reply. i would also like to thank google docs for housing the backup copy of this fic, ensuring my panic lasted only half the time it could have. finally (and the only serious thing here) ty to @nabrizoya for giving this idea during my 'i cant write banter only dad jokes help' panic, i loved it and wrote far more on it than i expected.

laughter in the rain

ao3

word count: 2.1k of pure fluff and crack

blurb: in which Nikolai is much too found of puns while Zoya is the polar opposite, and a young, incredibly chaotic Squaller child wreaks absolute havoc on literally everything.

(from tumblr ask: how about nikolai interacting with zoya's students and them finding nikolai's dad jokes funnier than zoya does (though she does secretly enjoy them)

----

Zoya knew she was in for it when she agreed to teach Damyen to summon lightning. Possible consequences listed themselves in her head without regard for her anxiety: Getting half her hair burned off. An emergency fire drill, minus the drill, at the Little Palace. Possibly a few roasted pigeons falling from the sky. The ten-year old Squaller was undeniably one of her most gifted students, possessing a striking talent for both the Small Science and utter chaos. Unsurprising, really, considering the child both worshiped Nikolai and had a disposition remarkably close to the latter’s. Zoya’s rant on the young Grisha amused him to no end.

“A miniature me,” Nikolai mused, glancing thoughtfully at Zoya as he sat on the edge of their bed. “And shaping up to be quite the handful.”

“You have no idea,” she grumbled, brushing out a stubborn tangle in her hair, eyes still bleary from her slumber or lack thereof. She’d slept terribly and dreamt her kefta had been on fire. Though she was never much for fortune-tellers or prophetic hogwash, she had an inkling this particular dream would soon be reality. “You could be brothers with how much you have in common. Insubordinate. Endless chatter. Utterly chaotic.”

“Handsome?” Nikolai suggested, inspecting his boots before putting them on. “Charismatic and startlingly intelligent? Really, my dear; you don’t have to be quite so negative.”

“I’m likely about to be set on fire. I have every right to be negative.”

“Now, now,” He said soothingly. “I’m sure it will be a very- enlightening experience.”

Zoya froze mid-brush stroke, turning to give him a withering glare. “Nikolai,” she hissed.

He grinned. “Yes?”

“We have talked about this.”

“Have we?”

“No more puns,” Zoya ordered. For every joke Nikolai in his love for infuriating humor could crack, these were the worst. The only people in the palace that found them amusing were Tolya and Nikolai himself. Which meant, of course, that Tolya was the only one Nikolai didn’t subject to this banal torture.

“Why?” Nikolai whined. “I find them rather electrifying, don’t you?”

She slammed her brush onto the table and stalked towards him, seizing his wrist. “I will blow you out the window. I will tie you to a tree and let Damyen use you for target practice.”

“From the sound of him, he wouldn’t dare. He loves me.”

“He’s also remarkably similar to you and has every ounce of your taste for drama. He might, and if he doesn’t you have my word that I will do it myself.” Zoya let her eyes flash silver, static crackling in the air.

“Alright,” Nikolai sighed, unperturbed by the display. “Fine. I concede. It’s but a trifle. A storm in a teacup, if you w- ow !”

She had sent a small shock through his arm, and now scoffed at the reaction to her handiwork. “Consider this a warning,” she sniffed, before turning to leave the room. “I have a Squaller to teach.”

“Storming off, are we- ow- ”

Only once the door was safely slammed behind her did she let her frown shift, lips quirking upwards. “Damnable idiot,” she muttered, smile clear in her voice.

“You love me for it,” Nikolai called from inside the room.

Zoya scowled. She’d need to have the walls thickened.

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

To Zoya’s right, a flock of very terrified and slightly singed geese squawked and took to the skies. Their nest lay in a steaming pile of ash. She raised a single eyebrow at her pupil. “Damyen, this is-”

“Awesome!” He cackled, gathering the ash in his hands and tossing it in the air like confetti. The flakes drifted down, settling in Zoya’s hair and eyelashes.

“I was going to say dismal. I do not recall asking you to set birds on fire. Your aim is terrible.”

“But I shot lighting!” He stared at his fingertips with such utter reverence for himself that Zoya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“If you want to shoot lighting without setting your friends alight, I’d suggest you learn to hit your mark,” She said as sternly as possible. He’d picked up on the skill remarkably quickly, in all honesty, and the currents he summoned were more than good for a start. She was impressed, but her approval would only be gained with sufficient effort. And after more than a few sharp comments. “You aim worse than a blind mole rat. Again.”

Damyen sighed but brought his hands together once more, brow knitting in concentration as lightning began to form in his palm. Strands of his bronze hair fell onto his face and he squinted through them at the target. Adjusted his hands. Squinted again.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Zoya muttered. “Perhaps you’re waiting for the Saints to come riding down on a shiny chariot?”

He snorted, apparently genuinely amused, then let the bolt fly. At the same moment, a golden-haired figure strolled into the lightning’s path.

Zoya shrieked, hurtling a gust of wind towards Nikolai and blowing him to the ground. The streak of electricity slammed perfectly into the target’s center, setting the whole thing aflame.  Damyen whooped, throwing up his hands and sending wind blowing every which way; scattering leaves into the air as Nikolai groaned and swore from his spot in the grass.

“Hello,” He said weakly. “Atmosphere’s rather charged around here, don’t you think?”

She huffed and pulled him to his feet, glaring daggers.

“No shocks,” Nikolai noted.

“I may change my mind. Care to explain yourself, Lantsov? In the habit of trying to kill yourself?”

“I hardly need to try. I’m a magnet for life threatening situations. Though I’ll admit that today it was a personal decision.” He beamed, spreading his hands. “I simply wanted to help you make good on your threat.”

Zoya rolled her eyes. “Why are you here? Has something come up with the Fjerdans? Did the Kerch renegotiate the trade-”

“Zoya, Zoya, Zoya,” Nikolai sighed, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount for this fickle country. Answer the question, or I truly will have him target you.”

“Is it so hard to believe I came here only to see you?”

“Yes.”

“You wound me. But if you must know, I thought I could be of some assistance.”

“As target practice?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve had quite enough of that. As a mentor. As a bribe, perhaps; for your little firecracker over there.” He glanced at Damyen, still stripping trees of their hard-earned leaves and seemingly unaware that he’d nearly killed his beloved idol.  “You seemed like you could use some help.”

She raised her chin disdainfully. “I am perfectly capable of wrangling the little-”

A loud crack sounded and the sky darkened rapidly, clouds swarming over their heads as rain began to pour furiously in a matter of seconds. A few meters away, a bright flash enveloped a tree, sending the trunk bursting into flames.

“Damyen!” Zoya screeched.

The boy stared at her, wide-eyed and grinning in a mix of elation and fear. “I made a storm, Your Highness!”

“Congratulations. Now do you mind stopping before you kill us all?”

“But I-” His eyes found Nikolai and realization set in as he beamed and the rain poured even harder. “Your Highness- es !”

Another boom, and a second, larger tree was wreathed in electricity and fire. It groaned, wobbling dangerously before crashing to the ground.

Nikolai’s brow furrowed, squinting against the pouring rain. “That,” he started. “Was a centuries-old sacred cypress planted by the first Lantsov kings. Now firewood. Impressive.”

Damyen’s chest puffed with pride.

“You can fawn over each other later,” Zoya snapped. “Damyen, enough with the storm. Turn it off before you start a forest fire.”

He grinned sheepishly. “How?”

She muttered obscenities, raising her hands and dispelling the clouds with a flick of her wrists. The sky cleared, small patches of pouring rain left to quell the still-burning trees as Nikolai whistled appreciatively, clapping; and Damyen gave a small bow. Saints, these two would be the death of her.

“So,” Nikolai said, soft enough that Damyen couldn’t hear. “Changed your mind?”

She sighed. “Fine. Make your attempt. You’ve always loved trying your hand at the impossible.”

“Improbable,” he corrected, then strolled over to Damyen, running a hand through the golden strands plastered to his forehead. Soaking wet and almost cooked alive, and he still looked every bit the regal prince; she thought, a grudging, now-familiar fondness rushing through her like a horrible, tooth-rotting sweet. She scowled.

“Lovely morning,” The prince greeted. Damyen bent over in a hasty bow, but Nikolai waved his hand. “No need. Are you the wonderfully gifted Squaller her Highness speaks of so highly?”

Zoya snorted, but Damyen’s eyes practically doubled in size. “She does?”

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai said seriously. “You’re quite talented, I hear.” He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. “Just between the two of us,” muttered Nikolai, very much loud enough for Zoya to be able to hear. “I think you remind her of herself, when she was your age.”

She opened her mouth; ‘What utter bullshit,’ already on the tip of her tongue but Nikolai raised a gloved finger, eyes twinkling. With much effort, she clamped her mouth shut.

Damyen seemed he might faint on the spot. Nikolai went on. “Really, there’s quite a lot you two have in common. Powerful. Willful. In possession of a rather strong attachment to me.”

The young Grisha was eating up his words. Zoya wanted to strangle the both of them.

Nikolai took a seat on a faintly smoking tree stump. “You seem to have quite a lot going on for you, learning to summon lighting and all. A rather current affair, don’t you think?”

The silence seemed to stretch on infinitely. Then Damyen gave a toothy grin and guffawed far, far louder than that sorry excuse for a joke deserved.

“Oh for Saints’ sake, Nikolai,” she groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

“Zoya, dear; no need to thunder about like that,” Nikolai said soothingly. Damyen bit his cheek in an attempt to control himself, but whatever smidgen of respect he had left for her kept him silent for barely a second before he burst into a fit of giggles.

Zoya threw her arms up in frustration and from the clouds a deep, deafening roar answered her-- how’s that for thundering, you nincompoop-- as the sky flashed once more, bright streaks lacing every cloud in an intricate web. Damyen’s gleeful expression faltered at the sight but Nikolai only grinned wider, patting Damyen on the shoulder before standing and holding a hand out to catch the rain.

“Don’t let her dampen your spirits,” he called sagely over the rumble, and it took a good amount of self control not to smite him on the spot.  Nikolai flashed a thumbs-up at the boy before jogging over to the spot where Zoya stood, arms crossed and glaring. He clasped her hand in his, opening his mouth to speak.

“Not one word,” she warned. “Not a single pun or I will have Tolya read you every Ravkan epic in existence while dangling you off the palace roof.”

“No puns,” he promised. “For now. I only ask that perhaps you let the sun shine through-”

“I will not sugarcoat my instructions for whatever reason.”

“The storm, my dear,” he said gently. “Not your teaching methods. We’re nearly soaked through.”

She glanced towards his dripping sleeves and the damp fabric of her own kefta. “Fine,” Zoya muttered grudgingly, raising her free hand to call away the storm and let the clouds fade to fog. “But enough of this foolery. I can’t have Damyen running around being able to summon lightning and having no idea how to wrangle it. He has to learn.”

“And he will. Let me work my magic and I’ll have him perfectly eager to learn to control his.”

“Without the puns.”

“With slightly less puns?” He asked, brow knit together as if the fate of his jokes were a matter of life and death.

Zoya frowned, but Nikolai’s pleading look wore away at her and she sighed. “Slightly less puns.”

His eyes lit up and he beamed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

“Oh, I will,” she remarked drily. “But perhaps not enough to shock you again if you can manage the walking fire hazard.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” He bowed theatrically before turning and running back to Damyen with a ridiculous grin on his face, sunlight gilding his hair and shining in his gaze; his form so full of light that she couldn’t help but smile.

“Nikolai,” she called after him.

He turned, cocking his head. “Nazyalensky? Is everything alright?”

Zoya closed her eyes, sighing deeply. She opened her palm, summoning the smallest thundercloud, letting raindrops pool in her outstretched hand. “Right as rain, Lantsov.”

He laughed, and the sound, golden and unrestrained and bright, was worth every joke she’d ever have to endure.

[bluebudgie]

Ok so I never have fandom dreams but apparently last night I dreamt of the first few story chapters of EoD. If that game doesn't start with Braham spitting fire and going 'I have to take a vacation in the mists for some time' while ascending into the sky, you know you've successfully avoided my prophetic dream.

There was more to it but I forgot the details. We had to find some shady Charr in some big city sewers together with Gorrik and Taimi. The latter was getting increasingly annoyed at Gorrik making clown comments at everything.

Don't ask me man.

[bokettochild]

Heads up

I'm still alive, and for everyone who's been asking (thank you, I love you, you're amazing) yes, I am okay.

I was really shaken by stuff, and yeah, I know I brought it on myself, but my mental health wasn't in a good place so I stepped back for a bit.

That said, I'm here, I'm alive, I just have a real huge amount of paperwork that I got a couple days ago and now need to work through as well. I'm alive, just a bit busy.

Since I won't be active, I'm just gonna give a quick rundown of some projects I'm also trying to tackle in my free time that I should hopefully be able to post when I get back

A Link to the Fourth Power - A fic exploring the concept of the Palace of the Four Sword being in Legend's Hyrule and what that means for Legend and Four both. Essentially it's gonna be about Four, with some Legend friendship since I can't write stuff without Legend apparently.

Adventures in Cozy (Update) - I have a Sky and Four chapter in the works, it might include one of the others, but that's yet to be seen by even me.

Shimmering Scales (Update) - Anyone else remember that one mer-Legend fic I posted around the Floor Is Lava time period? Round August? Yeah, I'm following it up.

A 'Little' Space - Four and Hyrule story. By request, I'm going to be working on a little fic for our little heroes (Fairy Hyrule and Minish Four)

Dreamers Wake - A fic inspired by some of tortilla-of-courage's lovely ideas and posts: prophetic dream Time, Sky and Legend

I'm also planning on updating TTTB, AHPHO and FTMH, my three current major fics. There's also whumptober to get finished, the Halloween fic I want to write and potentially a Prince(ss) Legend update. It's a lot, but it relies on my family giving me breathing space for a bit and my getting my paperwork done.

Sorry again to those who got hurt, or those who are worried.

-Flaming Idiot

[quirkle2]

OH BOY HERE WE GO SO (WARNING: LONG)

This is sorta a strange AU in that it doesn't have the Hero's Cycle or Ganon or even possibly the Triforce as a real thing??? Possibly might end up more generic but i hopefully made up for it with All The Stuff Happening

So! We have Legend, who's a warlock that lives in a lil hobbit hole in the woods and generally doesn't wanna talk to anybody EXCEPT MAYBE for those few people that come by and say hi every once in a while. Maybe them. Hobbit hole and surrounding land is like covered in plants and stuff. He generally deals in more "man-made" magicks, enchantments on jewelry and man-made objects and written spells n things (just a heads up the magic and how they use it is gonna be like. super up in the air for a while so i might change it. except for wild. you'll see in a bit)

Hyrule! One of Legend's closest buddies and Half-Fae High Mage (in training)! Also lives in a hobbit hole in the woods; he and Legend are hobbit hole buddies. Because of his half-fae status, he gets to pick and choose what rules, fae or human, he is beholden to at any given time. Thiiiis has a bit of a stigma, I'll say that much.

Rulie's more attuned to magic as a part of nature, not requiring written word to cast anything, and generally isn't as bound by rigid structures as humans who classify magic (this may possibly be because of the Triforce, which i have now decided is real in this AU). He could tell you right off the bat if something is cursed (he's got experience, after all!)

Wild! Also one of Legend's closest buddies and a witch! He can cast enchantments over the food he cooks and is very good at brewing potions and drinks. Possibly wants to open his own tavern someday. (Apparently the origins of the witch possibly came from lady brewers who worked in taverns and bars! I thought that fit way too well for Wild)

Twilight! Werewolf, plain and simple. He bothers Legend sometimes (affectionate). He's the son of Time and Malon and lives on Lon Lon Ranch.

What is Lon Lon Ranch? Why, no mortal knows! They couldn't tell you where it is, how to get there, or even how it never seems to be marked by the passage of time or space! They just know you can get some dang good milk from there.

Time! Just An Old Man, Promise. Definitely nothing going on here. Definitely not somehow outside the bounds of time and functionally immortal along with his wife Malon and possibly his son Twilight. Nope. Just Some Dude who works on a farm and goes fishing with Wind and Wild and somehow has vast tomes worth of knowledge and history that Legend is itching to get his hands on. And also has a soft spot for fairies.

YUP. Just a normal dude.

Warriors! Royal Captain of the Guard and Right-Hand to Sky and Sun. Generally suspicious of magicks and their goings-on. Totally not backstory relevant (wink).

Sky! Prince-Consort, God-Killer, and betrothed to the soon-to-be Queen of Hyrule, Sun! Yes, while the King was much adored, his time is swift coming to an end, but it's okay, he lived a good long life, and- what do you mean the King won't die? What do you mean he got a new advisor with possible ill-intent? Well that doesn't sound good, hopefully some prince-consort won't go harrying off to the woods to some random hermit in the woods because he's been having dreams about something going horribly wrong and magic being involved! That'd be absurd because that's something only prophetic seers can do - aw dangit there he goes.

Four! Has possibly the most wild backstory of them all, but suffice to say he's the apprentice and grandson of the Royal Blacksmith who has the ability to weave elemental enchantments into the blades he forges. Has a twin brother changling (Shadow) and four younger brother who might be spirits and might have pieces of his soul because of backstory shenanigans.

Wind! Possibly a mer. That's all I got so far, I'm sorry buddy.

This got long wow. Um... can you tell I've thought about this a lot?

OOHHHH I LOVETHIS SO BAD I LOVEIT

idk much about some fantasy creatures like faes or changlings or anything like that but i love them anyway that's so fuckingcool,, i actually Love that the ranch is outside the bounds of time that's actually so fucking sick ?? that's such a cool concept??

wild wanting to open his own tavern,,, that'sso cute i love that. AND LEGEND IN A HOBBIT HOLE i love himso bad . yes. put the leedol boye in the leedol hobbit hole. also hyrule bein good at magic my beloved :)

this is so cool this isso cool dude what the hell,, ur insane /pos very very pos

[inkdemonapologist]

scribbles from Session 2 of the current Bendy Call of Cthulhu game, where everyone’s having a normal one!!!

After an actually very pleasant evening meal (there was cake!), things got weird fast,

Joey started “talking to himself” in his empty hotel room but got evasive and weird and physically shoved everyone out when the others went to demand an explanation 

Sammy tried to sleepwalk into traffic, completely entranced by Those Weird Symbols which apparently “feel like ink,” and got real Prophety for a bit when the others woke him up

Joey got him to chill out by calling after him in two voices at once (?!?!?)

After Sammy finally came to his sense and we all went back to get a little sleep, Joey finally showed us why he’s been so intent on wearing a hat everywhere lately and explained that hE IS POSSESSED BY BENDY CURRENTLY, so that Bendy could get some help remaining stable and come on the trip with us, WHICH IS, FINE. Just let eldritch horrors possess your mortal form that’s fine. Also Bendy needs a regular supply of ink to remain stable, so Joey’s been drinking ink, which is, also fine,

Anyway here’s some contextless quotes under the readmore:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee)and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] So yeah, if you roll under a 5 on a d100, then Jack has SOMEHOW seen this occult symbol before. [Jack] Y'know, I'm gonna roll, just because it'd be REALLY funny if he succeeded. [Henry] Yeah! You can do it, Jack! [Jack] oH MY GOODNESS [Sammy]....what did you roll, [Jack] I roLLED A FOUR,,, [Sammy] Jack I JUST told you not to look at symbols what are you DOING

[Jack] He just used to have an ex who was really into the occult, it's fine -- [Sammy] (his name is Joey Drew,)

[GM] The location of the body is about 30 feet from the nearest building. [Sammy] Ah. So he fell out of the SKY. [GM] Unless he was a very impressive long jumper!

[Joey] Joey did not get candles because it seemed... a bit unfortunate that Bendy was not able to join us -- [Sammy] Sammy doesn't care. [Joey] -- but we can still celebrate -- [Sammy] He's here for cake.

[GM] Is everybody drinking responsibly this time? [Henry] Well Henry's not stuffing four drinks down himself if that's what you're asking!!

[Sammy] There's gotta be at least ONE nice thing about this trip. [Sammy] And it's this cake. That's it.

[Henry] Henry might try to get that book from Joey -- [Joey] Which book? [Henry] The yellow symbol one. [Joey] Um, Joey's gonna hold onto the one with the weird symbol on the cover, because he hasn't had a chance to cover up the symbol and he wants to do that first, but if Henry wants to look at Alice in Wonderland, he can have that one! [Henry] ...maybe tomorrow. [Joey] Joey seems ofFENDED at this.

[Sammy] That's the best roll I'll ever have in this entire scenario. [Henry] Sammy's listening very hard. [Sammy] Sammy's trying to sleep, therefore he hears Every Noise.

[Joey] It was the first night that Joey took Jack out to a dinner to kind of, y'know, spoil him, [Joey] a Thanks For Not Being Super Weird About Our Occult Stuff And Sorry You Got Dragged Into This dinner,

[Sammy] Sammy's not TRYING to be handsome, he's just accidentally really hot.

[Joey, the lowest physical stats of the whole group] He's going to more desperately try to just like, shove them out the door I guess!!! [Sammy, the highest physical stats of the whole group] Yeah! Give that a shot! SEE HOW THAT GOES

[GM] Henry swears he saw a third hand shoving Sammy out the door. [Henry] *uncertain* ......we know how many hands Joey has, right?

[Sammy] I was going to suggest that he's possessed, but... that's not a symptom I'm familiar with. [Henry] I'm pretty sure I didn't get extra limbs last time. [GM] (He just THOUGHT he did!) [Henry] (Well, he thought he was three whole people.) [Joey] (THATS SO MANY LIMBS!!)

[Sammy] I want an explanation. [Joey] *innocently* For what? [Sammy] The list grows longer!

[Henry] You know what happened last time you hid stuff from us, Joey... please... try to be smart, [Sammy] .............. (we know it's hard for you,)

[Sammy, explaining to Jack] ...I mentioned dying, in Haiti, [Henry] Oh, we're going into this, then, okay-- [Sammy] *muttering* You’re the one who brought up being possessed, [Sammy] Joey and I were possessing Henry for a significant portion of the trip. [Henry] For longer than the trip itself! [Sammy] well i wasn't going to go into THAT, [Henry] Well I-- uh-- I-- ...I should shush.

[Jack] So what do I have to roll to see how well Jack processes this? [Joey] How many nightmares do you have tonight? [GM] *cheerfully opening Weird Dream files* At least one!

[GM] You could make a Brawl check to hold on, if you're trying to make sure Sammy doesn't walk away from you. [Sammy] Brawl Check: Just Deck 'Im. [Henry] Henry will try! [Sammy] ....he's gonna try to deck him????

[GM] I feel like this might apply to the Charm skill, because you're a good... cajoler of Sammies, [Jack] *laughing* I'm actually SLIGHTLY BETTER at Persuade, because I'm down to 69 Charm for the joke!!

[Joey] But Joey's going to say it with two voices at once. [Sammy] HMMMMMMMMMMM,,, [Henry] eXCUSE ME? [Jack] Is Jack the only one here who doesn't have someone else in his head?! [Henry] Well Henry doesn't currently, [Jack] Give him five minutes.

[Joey] I think Joey's actually probably going to crack open that book now. [Jack] I honestly thought you were going to say "a drink" [Jack] Crack open a cold one with the son boy

[Jack] Jack is going to do all of the motions of going to bed except for the one part that's the most important.

[Sammy] The rest of us will go down and meet with Peter. [Sammy] Oh -- no, just realised, Sammy would call him "Pete" because he doesn't know that nicknames aren't transitive.

[Sammy] What IS it with people in masks??? [GM] ..................says Sammy,

[Sammy] All we've learned is that Trenchcoat Guy is super suspicious! Big shocker, I know.

[Jack] Jack is going to respond with a very eloquent, "UHHHHH,,,,"

[GM] You probably would get a Bendy voice popping up at that point saying "Joey's not actually drinking it, I am!" [Henry] Oh, hey Bendy. [GM] He maybe borrows a hand to wave. [Henry] (HOW'S IT FEEL, JOEY!!!!)

[Jack] I also had a hunch about the horns once it became more apparent that Joey was very specifically trying to keep a hat on all the time. [Jack] But very briefly, when he was like "and he takes his hat off to reveal--" my brain was like, what if it isn't horns, what if there's just a very small Lurker, [Sammy] Just pulling on his hair like Ratatouille,

[GM] Jack is pretty sure that whoever wrote this play wrote it to induce paranoia and mental distress. It seems baked in. [Henry] Well it's working on Henry! Henry wants to go home!

[Jack] #JustWorkingAtJDSThings

[GM] Make some sort of persuade-type roll! [Sammy] My... my only one is Intimidate, so that's what I'm using! [Jack] oH BOY [Jack] what do I roll to stop Sammy from whatever he's about to say?!

[Jack] Everyone else better be on their best behaviour! [Joey] Joey puts away his lockpicks for now.

[GM] You do see a microfilm machine, which is quite large at this point in time, [Jack] Not very micro, then,

[Jack] See if his Prophet senses are tingling! [Sammy] THATS THE OTHER GUY

[GM] It's kind of remarkable how little there is that talks about this guy's personal life in his desk! [Joey] There's no, like, locked drawers or anything? [Jack] No copy of his autobiography, talking about how gay he is?

[Jack] He's not going to mess with things. He's a polite boy. [Sammy] The rude boys have left the building. [GM] Only polite boys left!

[GM] It surely would never happen again! [Jack] One-of-a-kind, one-time-only, completely exclusive, if you didn't go you'll never get the fancy new shirt, [Jack] Hashtag I Was At The Cult Police Raid And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt And Put In An Asylum

[Sammy] Well, now we can have some new trauma! We've had time to process this trauma, we're ready for more; that's how it works, right? [GM] That's good, because you need to roll Sanity checks for those dreams!

[for-the-ninth]

Hello hello! How about a song prompt for DWC this week: These Bones by Azrai ft. Momo O'brien

Oh dear gods, these lyrics hit me right in the chest! Immediately reminded me of my Inquisitor, Shielan, and her childhood best friend, Zevriel. Shielan abandoned her clan shortly after getting her vallaslin and without telling Zevriel. He found her a few years later, and up until the Kirkwall rebellion, they met once a year and exchanged letters. At the time of joining the Inquisition, Shielan has been apart from her clan for 10 years, and hasn't heard from Zevriel in 4 years. This letter will probably end up in the bottom of her satchel somewhere. @dadrunkwriting

You named me a hero once, 

But my fighting days are numbered

So please forgive the things I’ve done

In the moments I forget you ***

Dear Zev,

You were in my dream last night—and before you ask: no, it wasn’t a sex dream; fuck off! Remember when we tried to convince Vunora to skip out on Healer’s training with us (and she said no, because of course she did)? Well, she said yes this time, because Dream Zev is, apparently, far more convincing than you. But it wasn’t anything like we’d planned. It rained all day and our veils got soaked, and Deshanna was royally pissed by the time we made it back. Come to think of it, that’s exactly what would’ve happened if she’d come with us. Nobody gave a shit when you and I fucked off for the afternoon, but Vunora? Can’t let the clan’s prized Healer go running amok with the riff-raff. Maybe that’s why I didn’t try to manipulate it, to turn it into something warm and picturesque, like my other dreams. Too perfect and it wouldn’t have felt real. I needed it to feel real. 

It’s been too long since I’ve heard from you, Zev. My hope is that Deshanna’s called you and the others home, where it’s safe, until the rebellion blows over. My fear is you lying dead in a ditch somewhere because some foolish shem dragged you into their war, same as they did me. Did you hear I sealed a giant hole in the sky with some weird hand magic nobody's ever fucking heard of? I mean, it wasn’t just me, but they act like it was. They call me a hero—a prophet—all because I was in the wrong place at the worst fucking time. I guess some ancient darkspawn bastard tearing the Veil to bits for world domination is just too big a pill to swallow if there’s no savior to swoop in and make it all better. 

They look at me like you did when we were kids, after that shitty little brat made fun of you for being a flat-eared orphan and I knocked his crooked teeth out. I thought Deshanna would throttle me, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t your fault your parents left you any more than it was mine my parents left me. You didn’t deserve me leaving you behind either, but you forgave me anyway. Why would you do that? I shoved every memory I had of us to the back of my brain for years after I left, and the moment you found me, it was like no time passed at all. Somehow that was worse. I wanted you to be angry with me, partly because I knew I’d earned it, but also because I just needed someone to be angry with. I imagined us arguing, yelling, maybe throwing a few half-assed spells around or drawing our daggers for show, knowing in the end, it’d all be fine. But the world is on fire, and I have no idea what I'm doing or where you are, so it still isn't fine, is it?

If you’re still alive, I hope you forget about me the way I forgot about you, because you deserve better. You have always deserved better, Zev.  - Shielan

[inb4belphienaps]

As Diavolo walked through the halls, he realized that the paintings on his walls seemed a bit different. Of course he recognized them, but certain details seemed either blurred on inaccurate altogether. It didn’t bother him however. He was in familiar territory after all. So he continued, admiring each one and recounting the stories held within their frames.

It wasn’t until he came to stand in front of a painting he had never seen before that Diavolo felt the first pangs of unease. But the contents weren’t particularly unusual. In fact they were rather ordinary. A landscape of the sky and a quaint-looking forest with a few rays of sunshine peaking in. He felt no magic emanating from it. If it wasn’t cursed, then why was it in his possession? He couldn’t recall any legends that depicted such a scene.

The longer he stared at it, the more exasperated he became. Like there was something out of his reach that he couldn’t understand. He leaned in closer to inspect the intricate brushstrokes of green and he felt a bit of triumph when he was finally able to make out a pair of eyes staring back at him. Of course! This was an enchanted forest with a magical creature inside of it. Although he didn’t know which one, Diavolo was glad to have at least gathered that much.

He smiled, shaking his head slightly as he straightened up, briefly wondering whether it was time that he update his collection and brush up on his knowledge of the fae long forgotten to have existed in the Devildom. He looked again at the eyes and stiffened. They were glowing.

A rustle behind him quickly derailed his train of thought. An intruder? He didn’t remember inviting anyone to his castle. A thief then. Diavolo had dealt with them before. Certainly the lower level demons were brave in thinking they could get away with stealing from him.

His own eyes lit up as he traced the foreign scent, intrigued by the speed with which it travelled. Always a step ahead. Funny, he thought, not even Mammon could out-do him like this.

The throne room. That’s where they were heading. Diavolo transformed, leaving a trail of black smoke and gold dust in his wake. They were going for the big one. The crown, perhaps?

Right as he had chased them to the heavy wooden doors, he saw the hint of a tail disappear behind them. His first thought was Barbatos, which was ridiculous. The only time he’d ever chased Barbatos was when he’d been younger and that was centuries ago. This was now. He knew it because he’d transformed at will.

The air seemed to shift as he entered. It was empty. Apparently demons still relied on cheap parlor tricks to get away with petty crime.

“Show yourself.”

No response. Not even a whisper of fear. That was dangerous. He could sense their presence, their formidable nature. He wasn’t dealing with just any old demon. This one was clever, clever enough to conceal himself that Diavolo wasn’t sure where to look.

And then he saw it. The tail he’d spotted was curled around the head of his throne, lazily resting on the gold ornament and he followed it into the shadows to a set of piercing cobalt eyes that bore into his own. Eyes that were reminiscent of those he saw in the painting.

He could only conclude that it had in fact been cursed and he’d summoned the creature directly out of it. How he’d done so would be an issue he could deal with later. Diavolo summoned his magic, feeling it furl around his hands. The creature seemed to approve.

“I would advise that you come quietly. I apologize for disturbing your painting.”

The creature made no motion to move so Diavolo began to step forward. Instead of relinquishing back into the darkness, it watched him. He saw its eyes sweep over his figure and found himself wanting to do the same. He wanted to see.

“Come into the light.”

Hesitation. Diavolo offered a smile.

“Please? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

How odd. Suddenly it felt as if he was at a club trying to convince a stranger to dance with him.

But it worked. The creature mirrored his steps, taking as many as he himself had and Diavolo gasped. It was no creature. He was a demon. A demon he knew and a demon he admired.

There was tension, a thread of intimacy. The silhouette with blond hair sat down on his throne and Diavolo fell to his knees.

He woke to the sound of Barbatos opening the curtains. He often had prophetic dreams yet this one hadn’t depicted any version of the future he had ever discussed with his butler. His heart was racing and his mind struggled to find a reason for what he saw. Strange. Diavolo had to admit that he had, in a way, been somewhat attracted to the beautiful man.

“Good morning, my Lord.”

“Good morning, Barbatos. Please cancel any meetings I have this morning.”

No questions were asked as Barbatos merely bowed his head. Diavolo felt the kick of adrenaline as he hastened to pull his uniform on.

“I need to visit the library.”

If Satan was going to have the nerve to visit him in his dreams, it was only fair that Diavolo pay him a visit in person.