#I am so mean to Sky

[bluevaractyl]

This feels like terrible timing to post, but I couldn't wait 😅 Here's chapter 3

The anticipation was going to kill Sky before the Shadow got the chance.

Apparently deeming their conversation over, the Yiga had dragged Sky over to the edge of the floor and tied the end of the rope to one of the leering wall sconces. The high angle meant that even standing up, he couldn’t reach it with his hands bound. The rope gave him enough slack to sit, but not enough to comfortably lie down. He couldn’t even lean against the wall because there was a bottomless pit in the way.

Sky sighed, wincing when it aggravated his sore throat. He was alone for the moment. The Yiga were understandably confident that he wasn’t going anywhere and hadn’t even left a guard.

Sky leaned his elbow on his bent knee and propped his cheek in his palm. Even before his capture, he had been worn out from walking for hours and fighting that obnoxious bird-thing. After being roundly defeated and then choked into unconsciousness by the Yiga, he was so exhausted it hurt. He longed to give into his desire to sleep.

Despite all of that, he wasn’t sure he could. Leftover adrenaline was making him jittery and alert. Every small sound had his eyes snapping open again. His head was pounding, pain radiating from where they had hit him. His hands tingled with pins and needles from lack of circulation. His wrists felt like he’d sprained them landing on them earlier. His chest hurt. Worst of all was the burning ache in his throat. It felt swollen and raw, every breath a painful effort. He was beginning to suspect he’d need a potion or two by the time this was over.

Sky shifted to take pressure off his knees. The rope rubbed against his neck with the motion, an ever-present reminder of his situation. He shuddered. Time to think about something else.

He hoped the others were alright. Had anyone else been wounded in the fight? Did they know where he was? Were they planning a rescue mission, or had they decided Sky wasn’t worth risking the obvious trap?

Sky paused at that thought. It wasn’t fair of him to think like that. He knew they valued him as more than a traveling companion. They were all linked (ha!) by their shared love for the land and its people, their courage and struggles, their determination to do what was right despite the cost. He loved them all so much that it scared him. He knew they felt the same.

So, if they didn’t come, it wouldn’t be because he wasn’t worth it.

The situation was precarious. Sky wasn’t oblivious to the danger he was in; any wrong move from the Chain, and the Yiga would—well, maybe not kill him. It seemed like the Shadow wanted him alive, at least for the moment. They could make his life even more unpleasant, though.

Did the other heroes know about the Shadow’s involvement? What was the Shadow planning? It seemed strange that it was apparently uninterested in what the Yiga did with Wild. Did the Yiga actually believe Wild would come alone, or were they preparing to fight the whole group when they showed up?

Again, Sky wondered whether Wild would come at all. It certainly wasn’t the smart thing to do; he’d be playing right into their hands. The Yiga had no intention of freeing Sky either way. But like all of them, Wild was stubborn and big-hearted. It wasn’t in his nature to abandon a friend to save himself. Sky found himself cursing that fact even as he was deeply, guiltily glad for it.

Sky’s eyelids drooped, exhaustion finally winning out. He leaned his head against his hand and let himself drop off to sleep.

~~~

The sound of fluttering paper jolted Sky out of the doze he had fallen into. He looked up to see two of the smaller Yiga coming toward him. One held a wooden cup and a waterskin. Sky was suddenly aware of how long it had been since he’d had anything to drink. Desperately thirsty, he leaned forward. The rope shifted, making him freeze.

The Yiga noticed and laughed. They stopped, and the one holding the water crouched and offered it. When Sky didn’t move to take it, they tilted their head and mockingly said, “Aren’t you thirsty? Go on, I’m sure a drink will help.” They laughed again.

Sky glared, then awkwardly got to his knees and shuffled forward. The rope pulled taut, and he stopped, fighting back the panic. It was fine. He would be fine; he just needed some water.

He was close enough now that he could have reached out and taken the cup, had his hands not been bound. He waited. Sure enough, the Yiga sighed as if put upon and brought the cup to Sky’s lips. They tilted it and lukewarm liquid rushed down his throat, too fast for him to swallow. He choked and spluttered, hacking as he tried to clear the water from his lungs. Each cough made pain shoot through his chest and neck. He leaned back, trying to give the rope some slack so he could breathe easier, but it was no use. Black spots crept into his vision. There was the feeling of falling, and then nothing.

…

This time, waking up was slower. Sky felt as if he were drifting. He was disconnected from his own body, voices and sensations filtering through a layer of thick fog.

He gradually became aware of cold stone pressed against his cheek. Everything hurt. His heart was thumping as if it would leap from his chest. He groaned, but only a faint rasp came out. With incredible effort, he rolled onto his side. His stomach roiled and he raised his head enough to vomit. He shuffled away as best he could, then let his head fall again, utterly spent.

Sky lay there for an indeterminate length of time. His heart rate gradually slowed, though it still felt unsteady. He dazedly considered how he was feeling and concluded that everything was terrible and sleep sounded nice. Something about that thought made alarm trickle through. He tried to focus.

He’d been asleep—no, unconscious. The rope had tightened when he started coughing, and he’d passed out. He was struggling to stay awake. His thoughts felt slow and sticky, like molasses. He had an awful headache. He’d thrown up. Wet fabric stuck to his legs. His alarm rose further. This was…this was bad. This was really bad.

Sky suddenly registered that he was lying down but he could still breathe. He pried his eyes open. The room looked just as it had before. The Yiga were gone. The water spilled on the floor showed him where he had been when he passed out. They must have dragged him back over to the edge and loosened the rope just enough that he wouldn’t strangle himself by lying down. He tried to be grateful for that, but all he could muster was tiredness.

How long had he been captive? Time moved strangely here, with no natural light to hint at its passing. He’d been asleep before the Yiga came with the water, and he had no idea how long he’d been insensate afterward. The battle in the forest could have been hours or days ago.

He missed his brothers. He missed Fi.

Tired of thinking in circles, Sky decided to do the only thing he could to be helpful. He curled up, getting as close to comfortable as he could while lying tied up in a dungeon, and he went back to sleep.

~~~

A rough kick to the stomach roused Sky. He promptly pitched forward and threw up bile. Above him, someone exclaimed in disgust. They seized his bound wrists and his hair and hauled him upright. He blinked, trying to clear his blurry vision. As soon as he could see, danger sang through him.

Standing before him was a black lizalfos with red, pupilless eyes. Its lip curled into a sneer. With a dismissive flick of its hand, it had the two Yiga holding Sky scurrying away. They disappeared with twin flashes of red. Without them holding him up, Sky swayed on his feet.

The two sized each other up. Sky was keenly aware of his own raspy breathing, the bruise on his forehead, the blood and soot staining his clothes. He felt bare without his sailcloth.

The Shadow prowled closer. It brought a clawed hand up to finger the coil of rope at Sky’s throat. The increase in pressure on his windpipe was probably his imagination, but he could feel his breath coming faster in response.

“Hm. Crude, but effective,” the Shadow mused in a gravelly, sibilant voice. Sky stiffened at the confirmation that it could speak. Since their first encounter, it had seemed more intelligent than the other monsters, with motivations and strategies beyond what they understood. It hadn’t been until its transformation into the iron knuckle that they had begun to consider that there might be more to it, however.

The Shadow stepped away, and Sky felt like he could breathe again. It began to pace slowly back and forth in front of him, its tail swishing behind it. It continued, “I hadn’t planned on coming so soon, since those fools insisted that they weren’t finished with you yet, but my eagerness got the better of me.”

Sky probably couldn’t have responded if he wanted to, but the Shadow seemed unbothered by his silence.

“You’re an interesting soul, Hero of the Sky. Underestimating you was nearly a fatal mistake on my part. Yet here you now stand, brought low by the loss of your blade and less than a day in the hands of these pathetic lackeys. I wonder, will those you call friends mourn you? Or will they be grateful to no longer have to hold back, slow down, for your sake?” The Shadow paused and turned to look at him, a sinister smile on its reptilian face.

The words drove the breath from Sky. It was true that his own weakness had slowed them down and gotten him caught, but they had never held it against him before. Only hours (minutes? days?) earlier he had reassured himself with the knowledge that they cared about him as much as he cared for them. But maybe this time they would finally decide he couldn’t keep up with them. Maybe they would decide it was for the best that they move on without him. Someone else would take up Fi’s blade, and they would defeat the Shadow, and they would tell Zelda, his light, his sun, that he had been no match for their enemies and there had been nothing they could do, they were sorry.

Sky sagged.

A triumphant light gleamed in the Shadow’s red eyes. “Did you know you are the first of them all? I imagine you’ve put that much together, but has it occurred to you that your future is their past?” His voice became contemplative. “Suppose the first hero dies on his journey through time; he never goes on to found the kingdom of Hyrule with his precious Zelda, and she never has a daughter with the power to seal away evil. Who will defeat the demon king when he next rises?”

The Shadow’s grin widened as he declared, “No one.”

Despair swept through Sky as the enormity of his defeat sank in. The Shadow meant to kill him, and with him, all hope for the future. The demon king the others had fought would rise up and destroy the world in one blow, with no one to oppose him. They wouldn’t even be born—not Four, not Time, not Wind, Twilight, Legend, Hyrule, Warriors, or Wild. His brothers.

Sky fell to his knees. Grief filled him, as if he were mourning them already. And why not? If he was about to die, this might be his only chance.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He bowed his head, and he let his tears fall.

[paintedcrows]

Some Fords! (and Martin K Blackwood is also there)

[jkvjimin]

"my happiness started when I met rapmon hyung" for @jung-koook ♡

[yooboobies]

very important sopemestic moments...🥹

{cr. @jung-koook - thank you for this}

[coatl-cuddles]

" WIP DELETE LATER 🤪🤪🤪" ok who gaf?

[novosev]

The Ghost on the Shore

[localicecreambiter]

lu got several and mina got some so i think its time i show @linked-maze the same love via doodle page! and in typical me fashion, its more words than art :D hope you love reading because the amount of notes i add is insane

thanks to the yellow background and pink outlines, coloring this was a little weird- those green pants? yeah thats brown :) the shoulder pad? pink (skull emoji) anywayyysss i hope you enjoy my goofy antics

[bonefall]

.. opinions on wind runner? i feel like im one of the only ones that genuinely hates her sometimes

If you feel like the only one who genuinely hates her, I think you need to look around more. Wind Runner is a very widely disliked character, because she's often used within the story as a small antagonist who "threatens" the authority of Tall Shadow. Gray Wing dislikes her. Thunder is openly cat-racist to her. She spends several books trying to break through the moor cats' xenophobia to join a group that came to HER LAND.

Then, when Moth Flight is old enough to be a relevant character in Forest Divided, Wind Runner is turned into Yet Another mean mom the very moment Moth displays ADHD. She's contrasted to her mate Gorse Fur, who is a Soft And Good Dad, and ultimately MASSIVELY punished with the harrowing events of Moth Flight's Vision (even though, for most of that book, she's completely right.)

Ask yourself why they're especially harsh on WIND RUNNER for being mean to her child, in the arc with Tom the Fucking Wifebeater and his redemption death, plus Thunder being forced to stop being mad at his abuser Clear Sky, please.

To me, Wind Runner is an intense, ambitious woman who's demonized for it in a way that men just aren't. She's subject to several misogynistic trends within WC, plus a huge helping of xenophobia that goes absolutely unexamined. If DOTC cared at all about women, it would have treated her with the nuance she deserves.

Wind Runner is treated with nearly endless suspicion by Gray Wing through books 1 - 3, while he's bending over backwards to suck Clear Sky's toes.

Her wanting to join the group that came TO HER HOME and being a bit pushy about it earns a stronger reaction from Gray Wing than Clear Sky murdering people.

She's pressured into changing her name "to fit in," and it's still not enough. She wanted to join the group so bad she changed her name, at the request of the Mountain Cats, for a chance of being better accepted

This came after she'd already saved Jagged Peak's life when a burrow collapsed on him. She's plenty trustworthy.

She keeps doing shit to try and prove herself to this group of assholes. Remember Bumble being dragged back to her domestic abuser? Gray Wing interprets this as a power struggle, when WIND RUNNER WAS NOT EVEN PART OF THE GROUP AT THE TIME.

From Wind Runner's POV, she did something that the Moor cats wanted done. It was fucking evil. It was committing violence against another member of the out-group the cats see her as.

But who actually has the power here? Tall Shadow does.

Gray Wing said it himself that she could have come up with some excuse for Bumble to stay, and she didn't. In fact, any cat could have spoken up. No one did.

and still. STILL. Wind Runner gets nothing. Her reward is Gray Wing surmising that actually, her doing their sick dirtywork was a political move.

It's more consistent as a motivation with how Wind Runner wants to join their group. The thing she's been doing.

She only actually gets to join the group after Thunder starts publicly hurling slurs at her for suggesting they need to be ready for Clear Sky to attack them. "What do you know about peace? Last time I was here you were NOTHING BUT A ROGUE WITH A ROGUE'S NAME"

Gray Wing even starts purring when she gives birth, because her ambition goes away briefly and she "stops bossing everyone around." this is treated like a sweet thing. god forbid women retain their personalities when they have kids

She loses her first premature child to a seizure and Gray Wing starts proselytizing his religion to her. "Maybe it's a good thing your weakest child died because Jesus has them now" I want to beat him with a hammer

When her second child gets sick, Clear Sky has a bright idea that involves killing it. I refer to this as his "reverse leper colony" suggestion. He only develops a sense of humanity towards the sick when his brother's pregnant wife is in danger. Wind Runner and her kitten barely seem to clock as people to him.

It's only after her SECOND baby succumbs to a horrible, painful death that she decides the moor cats are assholes, and she goes to start her own group. It's LONG overdue. I was extremely excited to see it.

Now. Listen.

I've been treated just like Moth Flight before. I've practically heard the scolding in Book 6 Chapter 3 verbatim. I'm not downplaying anything about Wind Runner being harsh to her; being yelled at like that never fixed the problem.

What I'm saying is that this is the SAME arc that summons the hollowed-out ghost of Storm to coo that Clear Sky "never drove anyone away" with his abusive behavior and gives Tom the Wifebeater a heroic redemption death.

So why is the scolding from Wind Runner treated as unambiguously harsh? What's the difference between her and them?

Why is it that outside of this little bubble of the community, you can get buried in a flood of people crying about how "Clear Sky made Summisteaks Butt he thought it was the right thing :((( He feels bad about shoving Thunder's face in a weeping, pus-filled wound and trying to kill him :((((" but Wind Runner is mean about Moth Flight not catching a rabbit and she should be skinned alive

Why is WIND RUNNER held responsible for the death of Clear Sky's child in Moth Flight's Vision, WHEN IT WAS COMPLETELY HIS OWN FAULT??

So, why should I hate her? Because she's mean to the idiot protagonists? Because she's Yet Another Bad Mom whose actions ARE treated as Bad in the story, in the arc famous for openly weeping whenever someone's mad at their abusive dad?? When she has this whole horrific, unexamined story about how incredibly bigoted The Settlers are towards her and the extremes she goes to in order to please them?

I'm glad she's mean, actually. She should have been even meaner. I think she should have a gun

[oneluckydragon]

Thinking about how these two met. Get adopted, idiot.

More human!Echo.

[rose-serpent]

So the Artemis questline absolutely broke me😁😁😁

[sykloni]

Part 6

<previous - masterlist - next>

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Castle in the sky AU ahoy

This belongs with that first chapter of the CitS AU that i posted last week

Just a first look at the guy

Its just a little side project for comfort

[mantis-yippee]

2 DAYS TILL THE TRAILER!

Today is a request

Baldjungasaurus

Binoceratops

Y'know the more I look at major, the more I realize how BIG he is

Baldrius makes a cameo

[lichqueenlibrarian]

The Vulcan glanced up from his station with a look of utter calm that Jim read as fiercely controlled excitement.

–The Wounded Sky, Diane Duane

[himbohimhoe]

Holding out hope that the writing in veilguard will get more bearable but rook saying to lucanis that it's "not nice that Spite hurt him" and he "shouldn't accept that it’s fine bc it wouldn't be ok if a person did that" like. That is a demon. Built off a single emotion called SPITE. Rook I am finding it really hard to believe that u have lived in thedas for more than 30 seconds.

[hopeswriting]

imagine you're luce, and you're born the heir to a mafia family. you're mafia-born, and so of course also mafia-raised, and then also a donna-to-be. you're raised to be able to take on the role, to be good and capable at it, are taught to make one of your core beliefs about how the many must come before the few, because the family must always come first. you're going to be the donna, of course you must always prioritize the family above all else, it's your foremost and most important duty.

if caring about the few too comes at the price of the many, comes at the price of the family, is it even worth it? if the happiness gained from it comes at the price of a greater suffering for others, is there even any meaning to it, even if it's your happiness we're talking about? you understand, don't you?

you're not sure if you do, but you care about your family, love it, want to do right by it once you become their donna, so you nod, listen and learn.

(you don't have to be taught the pain and loss and guilt and anger and bitterness is a fair price to pay for the pain you decide has to be inflicted and the sacrifices you decide must be made, including by yourself. it's the least you could do, even.)

imagine you're luce, and the gift of foresight runs through your blood.

you would not call it a gift. you did not ask for it either. and you'll never come to see it as something wanted by you.

you can see the future, and it happened exactly as you saw it would, so of course it's exactly the way you wanted it to go. you can see the future, and it happened exactly as you saw it would, so of course you didn't care to try hard enough to change it. you saw the future before the shape of it had yet to be breathed into existence, and who's to say it didn't come into existence only because you saw it happen? you saw the future, and it happened worse than it had to for it.

you can see the future, but you still can't make it anything else than what it was always going to be. you can even make the visions happen at your will, but you still have no say on what you see or how much you see. you still can only be the witness of it before anyone else can.

it does mean double and longer the happiness sometimes, means relief and gratefulness and hope beyond words, and it'd be cruel of you to voice out loud your feelings for others to hear the many more times it means something else.

you can see the future, and it doesn't make it any kinder on you than on anyone else, does not give you any more power or control over it than anyone else, but at least you can see the future. you're given the time to make peace with it, to brace yourself for it, to bargain with it, to plead and beg and fight against it however desperately and hopelessly, even if in the end it still happens exactly as you saw it would.

(you can see the future, and it still doesn't hurt you any less than anyone else when it happens, but you don't expect anymore for anyone to hold you any less responsible for it anyway. it would be nice for someone to do it one day, but you understand.)

you can see the future, and you decide it's a kindness to both yourself and others to keep it for yourself as much as possible whenever you can.

imagine you're luce, and your family has this set of rings they've looked after and protected for as long as your family has existed. they're one set of three of the most important artifacts in the world, ones that help in safeguarding its existence and balance. they're duty, the very first one and the most important one your family was created for.

the pacifier around your mother's neck is duty too, and the most important and powerful artifact among twenty-one in safeguarding the world and its balance. it's been passed down in your family too, from mother to daughter. it's duty, but less tied to your family and much more to the blood running through your veins. it's a curse, in fact, as it demands heavy sacrifices the rings don't, and one that can only be tied to the blood running through your veins.

(your mother looks at you as if expecting some kind of reaction from you, and you can only wonder at which point you weren't supposed to see it as a given. duty and sacrifices have been one and the same for you for a long time now. is it even duty if it doesn't require any sacrifices from you?)

imagine you're luce, and your mother dies for duty. she's the donna, and so she dies for your family. she's the sky arcobaleno, and so she dies for the world. she's your mother, but she dies anyway, doesn't fight it either, even knowing she will leave you behind, even knowing she won't ever get to see what you look like all grown-up.

everywhere you look, duty stares back at you, from your mother and the pacifier around her neck, her love for your family and the life she gives up for it, her love for you and how she dies anyway while you're still only a child. duty, from your family members and how they die for you and kill for you, how they do both at your command, how their lives are in the palms of your hands and how they weigh only as much as you allow them to at a time. duty, from the knowledge your foresight gives you and the shackles tied to the blood running through your veins.

your mother's only duty while she lives too. she loves you, but she'd have had to give birth to you anyway even if she didn't. she loves you, but she still gave birth to you even knowing the kind of life you'd have to live, the kind of hands you'd inevitably end up with, the burdens she'd have to lay on your shoulders, passing them down from her own. because she loves you, she finds the resolve to raise you to be able to face all of it head-on and come out on top, but she'd have had to raise you much the same way anyway even if she didn't.

(she doesn't die for you, doesn't fight to be able to keep living with you, and this, too, is your mother surrendering to duty one last time.)

(you're so sick of it, so angry at it, so hateful and resentful against it. you're so stifled by it to the point you've stopped being able to breathe for a long time now. or you would have been if they had taught you how to face duty in this way too.

it's for the better they didn't. a silver lining, sparing you pain that isn't necessary for you to go through. everyone you turn to only teaches you how to keep holding your breath longer, and you listen and learn, obedient and dutiful as you've ever been.

you're grateful for it too. really, you are.)

everywhere you look, there's no room for you to so much as question any of it, let alone anything more. duty is commendable, something you ought to look up to and strive towards, strive to achieve. duty is the right thing to do. of course it is.

(you exhale a breath of relief that shakes you down to your very core.

thank god, it's at least the right thing to do.

you're grateful for it beyond words. really, you are.)

imagine you're luce, and before it even happens, you know the choice you'll make when climbing that mountain, when standing on top of it, when waiting for a bright light to shine down on you from above. you know the choice you'll make then, even when pregnant with your daughter.

it doesn't matter since how long you knew, be it years, months, days, hours or minutes before. all that matters is that before you can even contemplate the idea of making another choice and all its implications and possible consequences, before the thought can even come alive in your mind, you already know the choice you'll make.

(you can see the future, but just because you already saw it, it doesn't mean it's now set in stone.

you can see the future, but just because you're given the chance to fight to change it, it doesn't mean it still won't happen every bit like you saw it.

it doesn't mean it can't still happen even worse than how you first saw it happen because you fought to change it, no matter how already dreadful it originally was.)

imagine you're luce, and before it even happens, you know they'll be others with you standing on top of that mountain. you're the only one who'll know it before it happens.

(because you can see the future.

and oh, you did not ask for it.)

they're strangers, people you don't owe anything to. adults who choose to show up at the first meeting, and to show up to every following mission after that. the chosen seven, whose ambitions and prides lead them to walk the path of the seven strongest too once laid down in front of them.

you don't force their hands in making any of those choices for them. you're not responsible for any of them.

you become coworkers then, accomplices, your hands stained in blood to various extent, but now dipping in the same pool of blood as you strive towards the same goal together. you have each other's backs, learn each other's strengths and weaknesses, learn each other's personalities, likes and dislikes. you keep having to spend more time together as the missions keep coming your way.

inevitably, you come to care about them. even more damning, they come to care about you in return. enough so they'll look after your daughter even after what'll happen on top of that mountain. enough so they'll look after your granddaughter too, warmly and fondly enough she'll call one of them uncle.

you're still the only one who knows they'll stand together with you on top of that mountain, not knowing what'll happen on it like you do.

and you do care about them, you swear you do. really, you do.

(you care about them the same way your mother cared about you, and how she still raised you to have steel in you and be made of sharp edges you know how to use. you care about them the same way you care about your family, and how you still send them to their deaths as needed so the rest of your family you care about just the same can keep on living longer and safely. this is the only way you've had the chance to learn how to care and love.

duty and sacrifices have been one and the same for you for as long as you can remember. it doesn't matter at which point sacrifices came to mean love to you too.

and most of all, you love your daughter more than anything else in the world.)

imagine you're luce, and this is who you are. this is who you've been raised to be, the only way you've been given room to grow up to be. this is the life you've lived and the kind of life that has shaped you as the person you are now. this is what you've been taught and told is the best version of yourself you could have grown up to be. this is who you ended up being by what you've been taught and told are all the right choices to make.

you're still the only one who knows what is about to happen on top of that mountain. it hasn't happened yet. the fate of the world hangs on what'll happen on top of that mountain, the same world you'll have to give birth to your daughter in. the same daughter you're currently pregnant with.

now imagine you're luce, look me in the eye and tell me you'd know how to even form the thought of the possibility of there being any other choice to make. look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't look at the only choice in front of you, and know deep in your bones it's the only right choice to make. that it is right of you to make it. because it simply has to be.

(imagine you're luce, and you're not doomed by the narrative. of course, you're not.

why would you need to be when the narrative has painstakingly shaped you all your life to become its perfect, faithful and dutiful sacrificial lamb?

and then, imagine you're luce, and you're even grateful for it, so, so very grateful it held up its end of the bargain too.

truly, you are.)