#I guess we can really call him POOF now

[scutesketch]

GUYS I KEEP HEARING RUMORS ABOUT PERI IN THE SEASON FINALE WTF PLEASE TELL ME IT AINT TRUE WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY GONNA DO TO PERI NOOOO-

[ukiiseikou]

don't mess up, my lucky charm, my last chance.

wanderer x gn! reader. figure skating au.

synopsis: your pairs partner just ghosted you, but no worries! your coach manages to replace him with the next worst thing - wanderer. a/n: hi! making this a series called complementary figures, a figure skating au universe. stay tuned for other characters ^^ thanks for reading

“hi, i’d like to report a missing person’s case.”

ayaka looks up from unlacing her skates, giving you a sympathetic smile, “any news?”

“he’s gone gone, like, poof! i’ve been calling him ever since he disappeared two weeks ago but it’s like he never existed. i even called the police, and all they could say was ‘he’s still alive’, like buddy, i hope so.”

ayaka stands up, offering you a quick hug, “i’m so sorry, it was an asshole move for him to ghost you like this in the middle of the season.”

“it’s fine. i guess it’s all over now. still kind of in shock, but whatever.”

you sigh, sitting down on the bench and kicking off your sneakers as you pull your skates out from your bag. you weren’t even sure why you were here, your partner had up and left you in the middle of the competition season and you can’t perform a pairs routine by yourself. you were content to just wallow in self pity and refreshing instagram to see if, miraculously, any available pairs guy would contact you and ask to try out. in fact, you had been doing exactly that for the past few week and a half, but yae asked you to come in today, saying that you ‘needed to reconnect with the ice’.

you wave bye to ayaka as she walks away, leaving you to your own devices as you start pulling on the strings of your laces.

“y/n.”

yae appears before you, and you strain to get a look at her, a familiar grin on her face.

“hi, coach, what’s up?” you finish tying up your skates and stand up. with your skate, you tower over yae just a little bit, but you always felt like a little kid before her - she’s been your coach since you were little anyway, alongside your former partner.

“no news?” 

you shake your head, and she sighs.

“disappointing, but no matter, we move ahead.”

she beckons you to follow her, and you trail behind her as she steps onto the ice gracefully. you’ve been off ice for about a week now, and you really feel it. there’s a bundle of nerves as you slowly follow her in a lap around the rink, is this where yae tells me my pairs career is over?

“what do you think about getting a new partner?” she stops suddenly, and you nearly crash into her, lost in your thoughts.

“um, if there’s someone out there who wants me?” you offer awkwardly.

she laughs, “well, he better, you’re his last chance.”

“wait, you’re saying someone asked to partner up with me?”

she taps her chin, “it’s more like - i offered and no one else wanted him, so we’re his only choice.”

she finishes with a self satisfied grin, “don’t worry, y/n dear, he’s won a few medals.”

“yeah? like what?”

“world championships, world cup finals,” she lists off a bunch of titles, including national champion.

wait, national champion?

“are you talking about, uh, wanderer?” you interrupt her.

“is that the kid's name? ah, i forgot. he always hissed at me and ran away whenever i went over to ei’s house.”

while yae launches into reminiscing about her shared history with his coach, your mind goes a mile a minute.

wanderer, national champion, current world champion, former junior world record holder, and current world-renowned asshole.

no one can deny his talent and skills, but also that comes with a major attitude. you’ve heard changing room horror stories about him scaring off potential partners; people leaving in tears; a world record in the number of partners dropped; and if he drops you in the middle of a lift it’s not his fault - it’s yours.

“yae, why in the world did you offer to pair me up with some asshole?” you blurt out, “yae, i thought you liked me.”

 “oh look, they’re here!”

yae pointedly ignores your comment and pushes past you, making her way to the edge of the rink. you can feel the drilling stare, even with your back facing him. you just prayed to whatever archon is listening that he didn’t hear you, and you would at least leave this temporary partnership with your ego and self-confidence intact.

“ei! long time no see,” yae stops at the boards, as you slowly turn on your blades and skate towards where the pair is waiting.

“this is y/n,” she beckons you, and you pick up the pace, gliding into place next to her.

“hi, uh, it’s nice to meet you!” you’ll try your best to leave a good impression on his coach, at least.

“likewise,” ei nods and holds out a hand to shake, which you take.

“kunikuzushi,” she angles her head towards you, “say it.”

“hey,” he says curtly, avoiding your gaze. awkward silence settles over the group before yae claps her hands.

“i see. kuni, then? i see your skates are on, good! get up here. y/n, sweetheart, can you get my phone please? i would like to film this, thank you.”

you sigh, moving to grab yae’s phone on the other side of the boards. you watch the boy pull off his skate guards and step onto the ice out of the corner of your eye. you can’t deny it - you can tell by the way he holds himself that he’s far more elegant and well-trained than half of the guys you’ve seen come in and out of the rink door. the two of you make eye contact and you quickly fumble with yae’s phone, placing it near her hand.

ei and yae are chatting, leaving you to awkwardly follow wanderer, or kuni, or kunikuzushi, you weren’t really sure what to call him anymore.

“can you even skate?” he sounds irritated, and you bristle.

“of course i can, can you?” you retort.

“i’m the current world champion. of course i can. are you dumb?” he whirls around to face you.

“yeah? try doing that again without a partner,” you fume.

“i don’t need a partner to win.”

“it’s called fucking pairs.”

he snorts, “and you think your mediocre skills can keep up with me?”

“sorry, but i happen to hear you switch partners every season? you need me. admit it, i’m your last chance, because nobody else is stupid enough to partner up with someone like you.”

“someone like me? it’s okay! you can just call me an asshole again, just to my face. go on.” 

you stop, skates slowing to a halt, you can feel your face heating up at the reminder of the less-than-kind comment you made only a few moments ago. ah, fuck, he heard me.

his eyes narrow at your silence, and he whirls around again and kicks off, throwing ice in your direction and he leaves you behind.

“y/n, honey, you’re supposed to skate with him! don’t tell me you forgot after a week already!” 

you hear yae call from the boards, and you roll your eyes.

you race to catch up to him, but he ignores you. 

“okay, fine! i’m sorry! but like - prove me wrong!”

he turns at you with a strange look in his eyes that you can’t really place. before you can get a closer look, yae yells at you to ‘do a spin or something!’

he grabs your hand, grumbling something under his breath as he slows to match your strokes.

“do you know how to do triple salchow?” he questions over the sound of blade scratching ice.

“side-by-side? i mean, i can try!”

he rolls his eyes at you, but he releases your hand, “you go first, i’ll follow.”

wait, shouldn’t we talk about this?

you nearly stop your momentum but you catch how he’s staring intently at you. your insides squeeze together, your partner could never do a salchow properly, so you haven’t done it in a long ass time.

okay, fine.

you adjust your position, and you can hear his skates against the ice as well, perfectly mirroring your position as you launch yourself into the air.

there’s a foreign feeling in your legs, and next you know it, you end up hitting the ground, legs giving out as you slip and land. wanderer snickers as he slows to a halt next to you, and you just know he landed that triple salchow perfectly.

"not only did you double it, but you also fell on your ass? some skating skills you have."

you fell a thousand times before, but this one stings. you wince as you hang your head, trying to figure out if the dull throb in your leg is anything serious.

"are you crying? archons, i can't believe i have a crybaby of a partner." he sighs, but twists to get a better look at your face. you turn away from him.

"i'm fine," you say, pulling yourself to your feet, there's a shit-eating grin on your face, "let's try that again, partner."

he scoffs, "should've known you were pretending. can't deal with crybabies. you're lucky i'm giving you a second chance."

"watch this one. their debut internationally, the new wonder pair from inazuma. their chemistry is electrifying, and their technical content is one of the best!"

you let out a dry laugh of amusement at the commentators as you splay out across the couch, taking up all the space. wanderer hisses at you to 'get off me' but makes no move to shove your legs off his lap, instead, he grabs the remote from the coffee table to fast forward through the gushing that takes place before you've even entered your beginning pose, eyebrows drawn in irritation.

the two of you watch intently, the bright lights of yae's TV cutting through the darkness of the night combined with tightly drawn curtains. wanderer lets out a snort when you nearly crash into the ground as you land from your throw lutz, only saving it with a ridiculously bent knee that keeps you upright.

"still not used to the height?" he smirks.

"shut up, you're lucky i saved that," you spit. it's true, despite his shorter stature, he's hiding some serious muscle, enough to throw you into the air with height that looks like 'he's trying to send you to the moon' - as the commentators put it. your former partner never threw you that high up, and when you first did it, you felt as if you were in the air for an eternity.

"hah! no. you're lucky i held back."

"let's just call it even," you sniffle, turning back to watch the replay. after months of skating together, you know his little quirks, and when you shake with mock tears he stiffens, and you know you've actually got him wrapped around your finger. when you first actually cried in front of him (after a particularly ugly fall that felt like a broken bone), he spent his time saying that you 'looked ugly when you cry' and holding up tissues to your nose, but you can tell by his eyes his worry when the tears won't stop coming despite his irritated sighs and non-stop shaking of his head.

"whatever," he pats your ankle with a sense of urgency, the sofa creaking as he throws off your legs to stand up, "keep those ankles of steel safe, lucks, you'll need it."

you watch as he moves to ransack yae's fridge, and he sticks his face into the cool air in a desperate bid to stop the red crawling across his face. you're left quiet on the couch, an indescribable feeling racing up your neck at the nickname.

you tune out yae's usual pep talk as you survey the crowd - the arena's more packed than usual, and you're feeling the pre-program jitters. 

wanderer's hand finds your's, giving you a tight squeeze.

"you ready?"

you turn to smile at him, and he returns a rare one, "with you? always."

he snorts, but turns his head away as red tinges the tip of his ears, "don't mess up."

(and, by the way, thanks for giving me a chance back then.)

maybe i will write one where wanderer meets your ex-partner anyways, ♡ or ↻ if you enjoyed, support your writers, thank you!!

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 1610! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Based off of Conan Gray’s song, Heather.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Unrequited love, one shot

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Unrequited Love, Really rushed, It’s like twelve here damn, short one shot, Reader is a hopeless romantic idk anymore, not proofread, it’s mostly just poetic shit idk

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ ill design it tomorrow goddamn it i just wanted to write, might wake up and rewrite idfk

“𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫,”

Suddenly, all of what was left of November passed, with the dead, scarlet leaves the only homage remaining of the autumn that’s escaped your grasps. Autumn left as quick as it came, you couldn’t even bid a proper adieu.

When you think of December, you think of this icy wonderland— a winter that’d leave you huddling in the comfort of thick coats and hot chocolate, while patiently waiting on the nearing holiday that was prancing around the corner. Instead, what poured was not the icy flare of snow, but rain heavy enough to send you and Miles bolting off for cover.

In the thick downpour, your giggles emanated throughout the dim alleyways as the two of you sought sanctuary beneath a bus stop, somehow able to shield yourselves from the pitter-patters that raged on in a sideway fall.

“Oh my God, your hair.” You pointed at his drenched curls, a low laugh following along. Miles shook his head, running his fingers through the fluff of his waves when it poofs up again after a few turns. “It’s got magic, don’t worry.”

You brush your hands over the drenched skirt of your uniform, cursing to yourself. “Kinda need that magic for my clothes too.”

“That’s ‘cause you ain’t a magical being like me,” He huffs while wiping his hoodie. “You’s a mere mortal.”

“Okay, extraterrestrial being, control the damn weather then.”

“Hell yeah I will,” He snaps his fingers up to the skies. “Rain harder f’me, clouds!”

And the rain oh-so-gracious heeds his command. After a short while of cursing him out, you and Miles sat by the bench with your laughs easing down— replacing the excitement with a shared sort of exhaustion. With your heads pressed against the graffiti-covered glass wall behind you, you take a moment to subtly angle your head and look at Miles. He doesn’t notice it at first, but when he catches on, he turns and exchanges the stare with his own, a subtle “What?” escaping his lips.

From the chill of your spine, you mumbled.

“Nothing.”

You sheepishly looked away. “I’m just.. So exhausted, God. I need to work on my cardio.” A small fit of coughs exit your lips, covered up by the block of your wet sleeve. “I don’t understand how you get to run so quick— I couldn’t even see anything.”

“You still caught up pretty quick,” He beams. “Gotta admit, you’re a quick runner.”

“Thanks, I practice by running away from my problems.” A heft chuckle followed. “M’just kidding.”

Miles takes notice of your quivering hand— a frail shiver emanating ‘til the tips of your fingers. For a moment, the short idea of wrapping his hand over yours crosses his mind, but he shoots it down as soon as it came. It inches only a tad bit closer, but the image of someone else flashes in his mind when he looks at you like this.

“What a mood.”

“Running away from problems?”

“Yeah.”

You raised a brow. “You? You run away from your problems?”

He lazily shrugged with a hum. “Everybody runs away from their problems every now and then. It’s aight.”

“In a way, I guess,” You lean a little closer, but your shoulders never touching. “But in the end, no matter how much we run away, it’s all gonna end up catching up to us.”

Miles shoots you an amused look. “You been paying attention to philosophy class lately?”

“Prof Martha and I are besties, y’know.” A tint of sarcasm colored your words, redefining your connection to the strict teacher. “She likes me so much, she calls my name first during every fucking recitation.”

“It’s cause you’s always on that damn phone.”

“With or without my damn phone, nothing can make me sit still throughout her lecture.” A gruff huff escaped your mouth.

“Damn, not even me?”

You looked at him, wondering if he was flirting with you or if it was just your delusional brain whispering sweet theories into your ear. But even then, you admit.

“Ionno, maybe.”

You couldn’t even look him in the hazel of his pretty eyes.

“Maybe?”

He sounded half-disappointed, but you didn’t want to plant a presumptive seed inside your overly creative brain. That word alone’s enough to craft you a million what-ifs later on when you’re fading into the world of your dreams.

A chill runs down your spine.

“… I think I’m definitely gonna get sick tomorrow.”

“Oh, shit,” He sits up. “We definitely can’t have that happening.” Immediately after, he starts taking off his sweater. You flush, rambling on with the same question; “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“Our presentation’s tomorrow, and if anybody’s gonna be presenting the damn thing, it ain’t me— so you,” He tosses it over to you. “You wear this for now.”

You hesitate for a moment, dragging your hands towards the red polyester with a raised brow.

“How about you?”

Miles shrugged. “I can make do. My system’s made out of steel.”

“Made out of steel but you can’t perform for shit?” You pull the sweater over your head, the fluffy thing engulfing you into warmth. It was still somewhat damp from the rain, but it was better than earlier.

“Huh,” Miles sat back as you looked up to meet his gaze. “.. Would you look at that. It looks better on you than it does on me.”

Your eyes glanced down at the crimson, your hands smoothing out the creases of the cloth. “Really? I don’t usually wear this shade.”

“You don’t?”

“I’m more of a.. Less saturated kinda gal.”

“.. I mean, you can have it if you want.”

You shot him a look of disbelief. “.. Does this sweater have a hole because if you’re giving this away I—“

“It doesn’t have a hole, [Y/n].”

And your name rolled off his tongue so gently, it caught you off guard.

“I just think it looks better on you.”

Upon that murmur, he crossed his arms over his chest and sunk deep into the comfort of his seat. You’re stuck contemplating with an open palm, straightening the creases of his sweater. “Are you really giving this to me? ‘Cause I can give it back to you after laundry day.”

He shook his head. “Just.. Think of it as an early Christmas gift.”

“.. Thank you, then.” A smile crossed your lips. “I’ll keep it forever.”

When you see the way he looks at you— like a sort of guilt laced in hesitation, but a certain sort of awe. At that moment, a sense of hope lingered inside you like a dream. You think, maybe, just maybe, that helpless look in his eyes— that sort of gut wrenching longing— was crafted entirely and solely, exclusively for you.

But you knew that gaze of his wasn’t for you.

And you knew exactly who he was pretending you to be.

Oh, if only I was her.

Feelings, your feelings— erratic, volatile, and erupting out of you like a bird unwilling to be caged. You wanted to speak, say it— just say it.

But your hair wasn’t as golden as hers, your cheeks weren’t as rosy as hers. You wanted her effortless pixie hair cut, her ballerina grace. She reminded you of those flowers fleeting in the wind, like the purple heaths they called ‘Heathers’. You wanted to smell like her sweet perfume, do everything the way she does, just so Miles could look at you the way you imagined he’d look at her.

His doe-eyed sweetness. You wished you could own it, you wished he’d spare at least a part of it for you.

Rather, you wanted all of him for yourself.

You wanted a glimpse of this girl beyond the confines of Miles’ dabbles in watercolor and markers. You’d much rather prefer the object of your jealousy walk across your sights, smile with the bunny teeth he likes so much, and make your stomach churn rather than have you dwell over a 2D image you couldn’t help but gauntly skim past.

What is it about you that I can’t make Miles look at me?

Maybe if you’d meet her beyond his sketchpad and recollections, then maybe you’d understand why he can’t get her out of his mind.

At that moment, she was just someone you wished to be.

The bright red of this polyester which you deemed unfitting of your skin. You wondered if Miles truly meant it when he said it suits you— or if what he truly meant was that the shade would’ve looked great on her.

As the sweater was yours, but Miles was hers.

Your arms meet with a tiny press, and you feel his shiver. It was only so subtle, but at the ease of his shoulders, you couldn’t help but think as he looked onto the empty space with a blank stare.

Wish I were Heather.

[glitt3rcritter]

Horror Sans headcanons

This is mainly of the x reader variety just random things I threw together

[warning for toxic behavior and eds]

this man

Oh this man

He does not do physical affection, physical contact of any kind

Not that he hates it, he's probably extremely touchy starved. Just too prideful and emotionally unavailable to admit that. Hand holding is fine, just don't overdo it. If he is craving a little physical affection, he'd probably just lean on you.

Acts of service and quality time are more his style.

Don't say anything about it though, he will clam up and get shy defensive. He'd probably call you desperate and delusional and talk about your mental illnesses.

Easier insanely jealous or insanely nonchalant, maybe some how both

Sassiest man you've ever spoken to.

Don't even think about eating anything around him, he's awful when it comes to food.

"d'you really need ta eat all that?"

Bullies you, out of love of course, definitely not because he has problems with intimacy and being honest about how he feels.

His problems are now your problems but they also aren't your problems so don't help him because he doesn't need any help, he's fine. (Not)

If you guys have a fight about anything and he's in the wrong, don't expect to see him for a week. He will straight up, poof, shortcut somewhere else in the middle of an argument if he feels like it. Will use the classic, "Can we just drop it?"

If this man ever pulls the stick out his ass and let's his guard down around you then he turns into the clingiest motherfucker youve ever met.

Would rather have his other eye extracted than outright say "I love you."

Probably just responds with "yeah", "cool", "mhm",

Has probably only said it once and never again.

If you haven't guessed, he doesn't like being vulnerable.

A song that comes to mind is Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives. (I lied a few songs come to mind but I'll just make that a playlist or something(

"I will poison all your happy thoughts, I love you like the ashes in my cigarette box and if you're fine with that you can be mine..."

[ashetherando]

Disney Adult| FizzOzzie Poly x reader (and separate)

my sorry ass have been looking at Disney World stuff and as a Disney Adult I’m surprised I haven’t made this before! pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Key words:

(y/n)-Your Name

(l/n)-Last Name

(POLY FIZZOZZIE )

They don’t really care of what you’re into, as long you don’t be stupid or harassing imps/demons they don’t care. They will in fact have a whiplash of Disney merchandise you own at your home with the Minnie/Mickey ears and clothes, PJs, and cups! They will be shitty boyfriends if they shit all over your interest while you don’t. If you’re going to Disney World/Land, you’re their guide! Teach them about Genie Plus, teach them about the Disney World app, cuz they’re helpless without your Disney eyes! Also, let them pick their magic bands there so much designs and their brains cannot handle it! Also, quick thing, give fizz a kid leash. You’ll be walking around in Animal Kingdom with Ozzie planning what he wants to eat, then POOF Fizz somehow learned to park hop and is now at Magic Kingdom at Peter Pans Flight!

💙OZZIE/ASMODEUS💙

Ozzie believes that Disney can be dark, for example Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Black Caldron, and basically he’s more into the Disney Renaissance than the present day movies at the Disney franchise. He will not be surprised when he comes over to your home and you hand him over Disney PJs, he doesn’t care about how much Disney merchandise your house can handle, as long you’re not blowing off all your money for a Disney figure ‘cuz you still need to pay bills and rent! But! When you ask what he wants at Disney World, he asked “coffee” as a joke, but when you came back from your trip and before you clock in “here ya go, Asmodeus!” You said as you held up the bag with the word Joffrey’s printed on it “I wasn’t so sure what you wanted so I kinda just guessed!” He tilted his head to the side as you place the bag on his desk, he opened the bag and see two bags of coffee grounds one is a flavorful coffee ground and the other is just plan coffee grounds “I wasn’t expecting you to get me this” he grabbed a bag and analyzing it “do you not want it?” “No! I want it, I really do need some coffee grounds, I just never thought that Disney have these type of things” “well, it’s a huge company! Of course they’re gonna have coffee!” “That’s fair” he placed the bag down and bring up the flavor on, it’s was obviously bought at the Polynesian resort exclusive. “Thank you, (y/n)”

When you finally convinced him to go with you while being part of the Disney Vacation Club, you have to treat him by bringing him to Food and Wine festival. He’s quite interested by the new wine they give out every year than the food. Keep an eye on him, we don’t know his drink tolerance is, he might get drunk at Epcot!

💚FIZZAROLLI💙

Fizzarolli is a guy to be like “haha! Imagine liking a company for babies” just deal with it, he’s gonna be a prick about your hyper fixations, but he’s doing it for jokes and will let you know about that. He only watches whatever is on TV, if you and him are chilling in your home. Just stream something on Disney Plus, then he’ll watch it with you. Here’s my advice: Have a Disney Marathon and he’ll won’t even notice! I’m kidding he will once it’s 1am and you’re watching Tangled, then he’ll be like “Old Disney is better” then he’ll leave the room. If you’re watching more present Disney movie, he’ll yell it from the hallway “Old Disney is better!” He may be your boyfriend, but he’s such a bad influence on you, when Ozzie is good with money and help you with your impulsive spendings, Fizz encourages you to buy that. You will send him a picture of a new Disney pin collection through text “oh look how cute they are!” “Get it” “fizz, I have rent that is due” “idc, get the pins” “you don’t even know the characters!” “I know the blue fur ball!” “Don’t call stitch a fur ball” “why did you send me this anyways!?” “….the pins will be here on Tuesday next week” “knew it” Disney World will be an episode and a half, homie will be in a different park quicker before you say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so please give him a kid leash before he does it again, but convincing him took so long! You have to show him some videos, nothing too intimidating since he’s a Disney Virgin, just simplify your vacation visit, but not for clothing wear, the Greed Ring is hot, and you two will be sweating allot, which means chafing! Biker shorts are your whore! Treat him with any festival and he’ll be happy! If it’s the Food and Wine, he’ll will eat any food or drink any wine, but let’s be happy that you brought him!

[igglemouse]

My day starts with my paper delivery job. Oh, yes, I guess I never mentioned that I do have a new job? Just something to supplement my jewelry thing as a little extra income never hurts and the job is easy enough. Drop papers at doorsteps and move on, that's it!

When I do make it home I find a surprising little bowl of stew sitting right on my counter. This must be the work of Niklas, who else would randomly do me a kindness like this? My only question is, did he make it with magic or cook it by hand?

And hey, whether it was made with a dash of magic or pure culinary skill it was pretty good all the same! Seriously, what doesn't he do? Maybe he's just showing off at this point.

In the middle of my meal Niklas strolls out of my restroom, as if he lives here, mind you, and asks if I'm enjoying the food. Honestly, yes, I am. Okay, alright, it's about a 6 out of 10 but it gets 2 bonus points simply because I didn't make it.

"So did you sprinkle a bit of magic in it?" I can't help but ask, it's a harmless question, but I imagine if I could make my dishes better with magic, I would.

"No? I mean I guess I could but-"

"Could you make the perfect meal with a touch of magic?"

"I guess you could? Never tried it though," he admits and from the look on his i can tell he's never really thought about it. He really doesn't like using his magic, huh?

"You really don't like using your watcher given abilities, do you?" I can't help but shake my head as he's made that very clear. It's a little frustrating. Having so much power at the tips of your fingertips and denying it all.

"Honestly, Grace, the whole bit is overrated."

"You keep saying that and yet just last night you waved your hands around and poof, clean tub. Just that alone is amazing."

But he's not convinced, he's shaking his head as if I don't get it at all and takes a deep breath before continuing. "The Realm and all it deals with is not only overrated but dangerous. The regular person lives a nice and safe calm life while we? Well, we could be called upon to face horrors you could never imagine."

"Well..." I falter behind his gaze just a bit because who wouldn't when facing unimaginable horrors? "I umm, yeah, I guess it's that whole great power great responsibility thing then."

"It's exactly like that."

"Alright then...but still, I don't see anything wrong with a little sprinkle of magic to make a pasta just a pinch better."

"I could try, mess up, and accidentally poison your food and you'd be in the hospital right now instead of just eating an average bowl of soup."

Ok, I guess I get his point.

So the man wants the normal life. I can't blame him for that. It sounds like he wants to just move to Henford and live out the rest of his days there or something, I don't know. Again, I can't blame him for that but personally...I'd like to be able to do something magical. I guess it is true, you always want what you can't have, unlesssss you want to soak in milk I guess and relax. You can absolutely have that.

Magic or no magic I am handling my bills pretty well. Thankfully, this place isn't too pricey so I can manage. It always feels good to have things under control financially.

Especially when I can sell a piece of jewelry for 1k. It's not a fortune in the grand scheme of things but it's enough to cover rent and still have simoleons left over. A little breathing room helps!

Hopefully this little ring will sell!

With the rain pouring down outside I can only decide to settle at my computer for the evening and dive into video games. There really isn't much else to do in my little place especially with Niklas off doing whatever he does. So it should be a quiet and peaceful night. Just me, the rain, and my laptop.

At least that was the plan but it looks like I'll be having a late night visitor.

Standing at my doorstep in the middle of a storm is none other than Lilja, the vampire I met earlier in the spring. Our first meeting was strange and now I can't help but wonder what brings her here on this rainy night. It's hard to tell from her expression as it is completely neutral and her eyes, cold and seemingly lifeless, stare right through me.

"So, may I?"

"Come in, you mean?" I ask, stupidly. Of course she needs an invitation. She's a vampire. "Y-yes, I guess so."

"Thank you."

"So, you're not going to like abuse my invitation, are you?"

Lilja chuckles softly at my question, amused in that delicate way of hers. "No, if I wanted to take you then you would have been taken," she says with precision. Perhaps she's right. I have been a little casual with my night time activities but she has made it clear that she's not out to harm me.

"So, then," I take a steady breath and gather my courage. "What brings you here? Despite the fact that I don't remember giving you my address or anything." But I'm sure she's been stalking me. Vampires are natural born stalkers, I might not know much about them but I do know that.

"Did you know that there was a ward put up around your house?" she asks that question with a tilt to her head, as if she is testing me.

"What? Yeah, a magician friend put one up, I'm not sure why-"

"Friend huh?" She gives me a knowing look. Does she know about Niklas? "It was a very weak ward but it did tingle just a little bit, it seems your wards are...weakening."

"Yeah, he's..." I trail off but then stop myself. Why am I explaining this? "Are you stalking me?"

"Watching you, did you forget our deal?"

"I..." guess I have. "Can you remind me again?"

"The blood magic," she says, watching me, her eyes intent and focused upon my expressions. "Do you remember?" and so it comes back to me, the deal, the offer of her maker willing to teach me blood magic. It felt theoretical at the time but now it feels much more concrete.

"I-, yes, I do remember now. Is it difficult to learn?"

"No, just costly."

"Costly? May I ask why you're willing to do this? What is in it for you and your umm...maker?"

"Everything," the weight of that word brings silence and for a moment I'm not sure what else to say. "The Realm have hunted our kind to near extinction and only the help of a blood witch can save us now."

"Oh," so am I the chosen one? "You can't just find someone else?"

"It is in your blood, your mother-"

"Yes, yes, she was a blood witch, I know."

"I am inviting you back to the castle," she says, and I'm reminded me that she had warned me against coming back because her maker might attack me again and she sees that concern and memory in my eyes. "He rests still, he is still weak. He needs...blood."

"Umm, yeah, sure, since you are inviting me I guess, does Saturday work."

"Yes, sounds perfect."

I'm not sure what the time is but I am getting a little uncomfortable with her here. "Umm, now, it's getting kind of late for me so if you don't mind..."

Episode List - Next Episode 3.4

[freedomfireflies]

iFall For Harry

Part Two to this request!

Summary: Turns out, the stranger in your phone is kind of funny...

...and kind of sexy, too.

Oh, my god. 

Harry, did you hear the news?

It takes exactly three and a half minutes for those familiar little bubbles to pop up.

Well hello to you, too. 

No, what happened?

You struggle to contain a rather giddy grin as you begin to type, A cheese factory exploded in France!

Wait, really? Shit, what happened?

I don’t know. But all that was left was…de brie.

Exactly sixty seconds pass before he begins to type.

Fuck.

I think I just snorted. 

That was…goddammit that was good.

You don’t even know what he looks like, but you chuckle at the idea of him laughing so hard he can’t help but snort.

Thank you, thank you. 

Took me two weeks to come up with that.

I’m impressed. 

Little offended, too.

Oh? Your heart sinks.

Yeah. 

Kept me on the edge of my seat for two fucking weeks wondering if I’d hear from you again.

Shit. 

You smirk to yourself as you flop down onto your sofa and think through a response.

Hey, it takes two to tango, pal. You could have texted me, too.

The bubbles make your heart pound.

Alright, that’s fair. 

In my defense, I didn’t have any more cheese puns.

Oh, is that all this is, then? 

You just use me for dad jokes?

Psh, nooooooo…

Then, another text.

Although, the jokes do make my days…cheddar.

 You laugh a little louder, suddenly very aware of the flush in your face over some stranger in your phone. 

No, wait. How do I erase a text?

I hated that. 

Seriously, how do I make it go away? 

My failure is staring me in the face, and I hate it.

You giggle under your breath.

Easy, Grandpa. 

Relax, just press down until the options pop up.

The conversation goes quiet for a brief moment before you watch his previous text vanish from the screen with a dramatic, poof!

Then, he begins typing again.

Hold on… 

Did you just call me Grandpa?

…psh, noooooooo

Oh, so that’s how it is?

That’s how it is.

Wow, and we had such a nice thing going, too.

To be fair, you never told me your age, and you don’t even know how to delete a text. 

What am I supposed to think?

First of all: rude. 

Respect your elders.

Second of all: this deleting shit is NEW, okay, and I just updated my phone, like…a week ago, so I never learned. 

Uh-huh. 

No, yeah, whatever you say, Grandps.

He responds with the emoji that’s rolling its eyes.

You smirk.

For your information, I’m 29.

Okay, which is a cool, hip, fun, and very fresh age.

Yes, I believe that’s the slogan for the retirement home, too. 

“We’re cool, we’re slick, and we might break a hip.”

There’s a longer pause between your text and his response. You hope it’s because he’s laughing. It’s not your best work, but you think it’s funny.

And then, you get the notification.

Dammit, that place sounds so much cooler than the retirement home I’m in now. 

Send me the address? I’ll wheel myself over.

You got it, Old Man. Will you need any help crossing the street?

How thoughtful of you. Yeah, that’d be great, and then you can finally earn your Girl Scout badge.

Oh, my God. How did you know it was the last one I needed?

Cause I’m old. And therefore wise.

Oh, right, right. No, that checks out.

Yeah. 

You lean back, forcing your eyes away from your phone to finally get a moment of reprieve from the excessive smiling. Why is this so fun?

I guess 29 isn’t so bad. Just…three years older than me.

Ah, another piece to the Cheese Girl puzzle. 

You’re 26.

Indeed.

26 was fun. 

I liked 26.

Yeah, it’s not too bad so far.

Just wait until your bones start to creak whenever you get out of bed.

I’ll keep a can of oil on my nightstand.

You grimace to yourself. Your worst joke to date, and you just hope you haven’t blown it.

Probably smart. 

My preferred method is lube, but…

Whatever works.

Your eyes widen.

Oh?

Yeah.

 My bones might creak but at least I can still fuck.

Well…shit.

You readjust your position on the sofa, desperately working to find a cool and relaxed and equally mysterious reply.

…so, no pressure.

Just be careful with all that lube. 

Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.

Hope you’ve got Life Alert on speed dial.

Oh, I absolutely do. They love me over there.

You smirk to yourself, fighting yet another laugh. 

Yeah? Thank God.

Boy, I bet you’re a real stud with the ladies, huh?

Damn fucking right. 

This grandpa has moves.

I bet. Yeah, women love a man that squeaks when he thrusts.

They do, actually. I happen to squeak quite sensually.

Is that right?

It is.

Damn.

Might need to hear that for myself someday.

It was bold. Perhaps a little daring, and you don’t give yourself a chance to overthink it before turning your phone off and tossing it onto the other side of the sofa.

You give it five minutes before checking to see if he’s replied.

Thankfully, you have two notifications, delivered 3 minutes ago.

Yeah?

So what’s stopping you?

What is stopping you?

Probably a number of things, but instead of pointing out that he’s a complete stranger and could very well be a catfish (or even worse…that he might not even find you attractive) you decide to go with another joke.

All these Girl Scout cookies I gotta sell :/

Shit.

Yeah.

What if I bought a hundred boxes?

Then you’d have to hand deliver them to my door, right?

Your eyes roll playfully as you sigh.

That IS the Girl Scout policy, yes.

We pride ourselves on good service.

Fantastic, then I’ll take 100 boxes in the flavor of you.

Your lashes flutter as you reread the text, over, and over, and over. But before you can spiral…he’s sending another.

…shit, that was meant to be smooth.

Get it, cause…like, you know, get a taste of YOU. Like…if you were a cookie. 

Cause…I wanna taste you…

Explaining it makes it worse, doesn’t it?

 It should make it worse, but for some reason…he’s funny? And charming? And making your thighs squeeze together—

I think that can be arranged, yeah.

I’ll package them up nice and pretty, just for you.

Equally as cheesy, but apparently…cheese is where you both shine.

You hope he’s at least somewhat amused, and when he finally responds, your stomach flips.

This conversation is bad for my health.

Yeah?

Why’s that?

Because I’m in a meeting and I’m about to have a heart attack.

…why are you about to have a heart attack?

Oh, right. I forgot that happens at your old age.

Ha.

Funny.

Good thing you have Life Alert on speed dial.

Yeah, I don’t think Life Alert is gonna be able to help.

No? Why not?

Cause only one thing can save me now.

Cookies.

Your cookies.

To be exact.

See? Cheesy.

Wow, I was almost turned on and then…

Nope, there it goes.

Oh, is that what we’re doing? We’re trying to turn each other on?

Well, why didn’t you SAY so?

Hold on, I’ve got a few good ones.

Oh god.

Alright, here we go.

So…

What are you wearing?

…really? That’s all you’ve got?

Work with me please.

My gosh.

Clothes.

I have clothes on.

Yeah?

That’s a shame.

Two minutes go by without him adding anything else, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that’s all he’s got.

Wowwwwww…

No, that was so good. I’m…holy shit, you just took my breath away. I’m so turned on right now.

I mean, my panties just FLEW across the room!

You’re THAT good!

Okay, very funny. 

I wasn’t done.

No, really. You gotta warn a girl before you just completely rock her world like that.

Honestly, I feel a little faint.

Where did you learn such a masterful technique? Really, you should teach a class on sexting, cause that was just…phew.

Listen, I was just trying to take it easy on you.

You know, ease you into my seduction before I gave it to you good and hard.

The last bit of his sentence has you stumbling over a gasp, but you simply clear your throat and work to find a response.

You have two options:

Either you tease him a bit more…

…or you ramp up the tension.

Well, by all means, Harry…

Give it to me good.

And hard.

He doesn’t respond for quite some time to this. And while you’d like to tell yourself that it’s because he’s just so turned on by your response…

…it’s more likely that you definitely fucked up and he wants nothing more to do with you.

But then…your phone dings.

Is that what you want then, hm?

Want it rough?

Shit, shit, shit.

Yeah.

If you think you can keep up.

Trust me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.

If you want it rough, I’m more than happy to oblige.

Is that why you texted me today?

Needed my help?

Truth be told, you don’t know why you texted him today, but you certainly aren’t upset with how things are going.

Me? Needing YOUR help?

Cute, but I think my fingers and I can manage just fine.

His response comes so fast, your head spins:

…fuck.

You smile.

Shit, okay now this conversation is REALLY bad for my health.

I might keel over right here in this meeting.

My death is on your hands, Cheese Girl.

Worth it.

You watch the bubbles float onto your screen for a good thirty seconds before they disappear.

Then, they appear again…just to dissipate before you can get your hopes up.

Finally—finally…a text.

Okay, listen, you don’t know me.

And I don’t know you.

I get that.

I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger.

But…

And hear me out…

What would you say to a phone call?

Your pulse stutters as you stare at his proposition, but he’s already sending his next text before you can decide if you’re really that stupid or not.

I know that’s asking a lot, but…

If you promise that you aren’t a 90-year-old man, and I promise I’m not some kid playing video games in his mom’s basement…

We could at least…have a real conversation.

And make sure that we really are who we say we are, you know?

And I could be assured that I didn’t just get a fucking boner in the middle of a busy boardroom cause of some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

You hesitate.

Despite yourself, you are intrigued by the idea.

Worst-case scenario if he is some loser…you can just hang up and block his number.

And if he’s not…and he’s half as hot as you’re starting to hope he is…

You swallow.

Thickly.

I am not some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

I’m just a regular creep that makes cheese jokes.

Promise.

And…yeah. 

I would be okay with a phone call.

As long as you do in fact promise I won’t regret it and that it won’t result in nightmares that haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ah, well…

Can’t say much for the regret…

But I do promise that I will try very hard not to give you nightmares.

God, are you really doing this?

Are you really doing this?

Alright, then…

Oh, so you’re doing it. You’re really that dumb. You really just let a complete stranger convince you to call him, even though he could be a serial killer, or a psycho, or—

Your phone rings.

You see his name pop up in large print as the cellphone just about flies out of your hand.

Scrambling to keep it steady, you lurch forward and collect a deep breath.

You can do this.

You can do this.

You’ll give him thirty seconds. And if he seems creepy…you’ll hang up, and you’ll move on.

And you’ll never get random boys in bars numbers again.

You press your thumb into the button on your screen and slide it to the right.

Here goes nothing.

“…hello?”

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3 (the third part to this!)

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ More Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@tinyhrry @supersanelyromantic @lomlhstyles

[theinsanecrayonbox]

FOP: A New wish e31-36

short bought here huh? that's what we get for a finale i guess. it's so weird having a whole season air in LESS THAN 2 YEARS. ahem, sorry about that ^^; lets get this party started (during a tornado watch!)...and finished a day later because i lost power with LITTERALLY 3 min left of the last episode

Episode 31: Hazel Wells and the Multiverse of Jenkins

is the title a reference? i mean aside from multiverse shenanigans, because holy wow multiverse shenanigans??? i am excite! can i get a cameo?? (please note; this is a joke, i don't seriously think i'm cool enough to be on the creative team's radar*)

wait title cardTHAT is Jenkins?? the beanpole kid with the glasses?? i remember him from the zombie episode

haha Dev's causing trouble because he can, i'm betting Jenkins doesn't have a crush on Hazel at all...and maybe Dev told him the inverse so that's why he's gonna be after her

oh Father Time, because a do-over...like Deja-Vu...eh they're keeping consistent within itself, so i can't complain *glares at s9* hehe the clock poof said "wibbly wobbly"

so many time loops. Hazel is such a disaster girl lol. but those who don't eat the cereal, even the mystical, are affected by the loop, very interesting.

we keep mentioning the daylights savings (which is back an hour, so it's fall season??? what time is it????) at the start of each loop, so i'm sure that'll be a big deal

aww sweet in one loop the hijab girl gets a crush on Hazel

her middle name is Antoinette?

heh everything in the hallway was a metaphor for Hazel's problems. but she learns her lesson with minimal magic. and ha i called it, Dev made it up to annoy her.

so...it wasn't really a multiverse thing, more a time loop.

ah, well, still a good cute short story. we need fun light and easy too. good job.

Episode 32: Growing Pains

synopsis sounds like a standard aging up plot. lets do it

hi big brother. and yay Hazel's love of horror movies returns!

hey a canon teen Hazel, that saves me time. but lol "your neck is longer" way to call out the stylization lol

hey is that Dinkleberg as the theater cashier???? also Chinfinity War poster

but teenager shenanigans montage. ok cool. more punk goth girls, this time it's Hazel. huh

pasta puberty? o...kay...it's fairy puberty...o....kay...you guys never put any other godkid who wished up their ages through this

heh pads. this show is great

and her pasta pits are working like octo-legs. why does FOP have so many Spiderman connections/themes/allusions???

dawwww such a sweet comforting, realistic talk with her parent

and a gross button to end on. eh, not so bad.

this was another fun light episode. again, minimal magic to fix it, main character learns a growing up life lesson. good stuff.

Episode 33: Fairy for a Day

synopsis sounds like the episode where Tim wishes to be Cosmo and Wanda's fairy godparent who's title i can't seem to find right now...

old Jorgen design!! and Fairy Con??? but Cosmo Con said it was held every millennium...or was that only because of how long Binky was spinning?

i would want that shirt, not gonna lie

ah she's not being an actual fairy, she's cosplaying to sneak into a con. mkay

wow, we're actually bringing up magical backup...and death memorials...what are you show? (that third one isn't me right O.o no...that doesn't look like how i've ever drawn me, but the 8s....)

Hazel don't you know never to sign contracts with the fae?? now she's a real fairy...with starry glitter hair...huh *makes superverse notes* and kids can't wish to be fairies? uh yeah they have; is that another rule Tim had made?

Anti-Hazel???? cool! why she has a backwards name though, that was unique to Peri and Irep...but i guess since they were the first *new* fairies in a bazillion years, maybe the backwards names is what the newer gen of anti-fairies is doing.

i don't have much commentary on the magic battle to get the paper back, it's pretty ok. and everything is fixed and reset to one by the end. it's a fun magical romp, good one.

Episode 34: Stuck in my Head

synopsis sounds almost like parts of Imaginary Gary???

oh Hazel, it is just a silly internet quiz, don't sweat it ^^;

ok he inner mind is a museum. both works to info dump which is eth goal, but also since she's such a bookworm and organized, it also fits-

SHE WANTS TO CREATE A COMICBOOK SERIES????? and she writes poetry? Hazel, baby girl, i love you sweet child

why was Vizolia (sp?) here?

can't wish away Hazel's mindworm huh? can't remove her negativity huh? despite...having done that before with Tim in Emotion Commotion (not that it ended well sure, but still), or Vicky Looses Her Icky, or even earlier this season with Jasmine's fears in Fearless (though i guess it just manifested the fears she still had them)

but hey, defeating it with the power of positive thinking as taught by her mom, that's a good lesson to teach. good story.

Episode 35: Mind the Gap

oh boy Tooth returns. how's her design going to be wildly different like most of returning characters...

hey follow up on Patty Possum...well sort of, we got distracted lol

oh look, Tooth has no design change. weird since we changed everyone else that's reappeared

talking teeth...ok...who speak in teeth puns

haha the line! "How'd you do X-thing? "Uh...internet?" lol i love it, 10/10 A+

ah i think i see where this is going, Toothica, being an artificial tooth is just totally fake in all her actions/words

that joke wasn't funny...especially with the pause for laughter part...maybe that was the joke?

the logistics on how a tooth sets a mouth up as a rave and invite other teeth is...dumb to unravel. so let's just marvel that the colosseum setup in Fairy World still exists

of course the bad guy outs themself and the day is saved and we reset to one. it was an ok episode.

Episode 36: The Battle of Big Wand

a double (30 min) length episode for a finale huh? and the title does sound fitting for such an event. 1 millionth wish huh/ sounds almost like something muffin worthy....which yeah, why are there so many ways to get a rule free wish when they are so no-no?? (it's almost like fae rules make no sense lol)

heh they're padding her wish count to get her to hit the goal

new math thinking meme screencap please

heh 39-40 times, because it's episode 36

oooo evil-fied Fairy World looks cool

wait, did Dev take everything over OFF SCREEN?? please tell me they'll show us how as the ep progresses via flashback, because that's some really big development to do OFF SCREEN (*grumbles about Marvel*)

ok we are getting a montage explanation...sort of. i feel like Dev taking over ad teaming up with Irep could've been an episode in itself.

Dev misnamed Wanda Pam. funny...and kinda close to Pan, which i named Blonda "Panda" after Cosmo's datebook misnaming Wanda that in Dog's Day Out...hm....

oh he's evil gloating to the world. welp, you just revealed Fairies and magic to the world at large (heh Crocker cameo, also AJ), so if he wasn't in control of the Big Wand i'm sure he'd be loosing Peri and mind wiping right about now. Dev why you slide back so hard into antagonist? you were doing so well! another episode would've helped flesh that slide, just saying

hey Patty and not-Timmy too

heh Dale just praising Dev because he's the new overlord

oh we brought up magical backup because Peri is dying. wow

Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda!

Pet Cemetery joke??? O.o Show! i love you so much

pffft thank you! everyone DID notice the magical stuff and just didn't bother pointing it out. but they did think it was weird.

gotta make some calls for backup at the commercial break huh? you gonna call in the previous wishes? or are we gonna get Timmy...

oh back to the evil lair, guess we'll find out when they attack

see Dev isn't evil and wanted world domination, he just wanted to be noticed and validated, like always. Dale wanting world domination follows

ah yeah she called in all the wishes

Anti-Fairies should love broccoli, why is that a bad thing?

dawww Peri telling Dev he loves him, Dev gives the key. he is really a good kid, just like i've been saying he doesn't know what he wants so he can't be pleased. and Cosmo even said it! dawwww

magical backup was never that fast acting before...is it sped up because the Big Wand is off so there's no syphoning to help mitigate?

so...was restoring Fairy World her rule-free wish? since it was the next wish granted?

dawwww Dev willing to take responsibility and punishment. but he is mind wiped

oh no it wasn't the next wish was auto rule-free, you have to state you're using it. and it's to let her friends remember magic...huh, that could be an interesting dynamic for a s2, the only time we've had others remember magic were when they were antagonists (Remy) or co-protagonist (Chloe). plus, with Dev mind wiped, the chance for that to get undone is also looming. so we got plot threads we can follow up on

and yes Peri, a fart joke...i do hope for a s2 too because this series was actually very fun!

i think towards the start i said this was sort of a do-over for what they tried for Chloe, and to a degree...yeah still is. you can see the shared elements, but by removing Hazel from Timmy, it made it work so much better. as i say, i actually loved Chloe but she was a huge well of missed potential, and Hazel seems to have learned from that and made it work.

i am quite ok with New Wish being the prime timeline continuation, and i hope it continues to thrive...for at least another season (we don't wanna ram it into the ground repeatedly like we did the original series after all)

[kaija-rayne-author]

Review 11 in series of Dragon Age Veilguard

84 hours in, 82 actual playtime.

Obligatory disclaimer, feel free to skip to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though., every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Spoilers for Dragon Age Veilguard (and everything else Dragon Age, I'm a Lore fiend).

Part 10.3 here.

Wow. Talk about plot hole city in Cyrian's fate. Oh... no... the dying brother is conscious enough to talk (which means swallow). Rook is standing there with 3 healing potions left over and there's at least three green jars scattered about the room. Eyebrow raise of doom.

It would've been far more poignant, and, y'know, would actually have made a lick of sense if no one had any potions left and there weren't any in the room. Rook has been really close to dead, and those potions brought him back to fighting ability. No, I don't expect writers to know what the sets will look like. But at some point, someone, probably multiple someone's saw that and decided it wasn't worth fixing. I can even think of a single line that would've fixed it. Just. One.

Like... did any thought go into this game? At. All? It really doesn't feel like it.

Goddess, that scene just feels so unintelligent and thoughtless. And not because of the writing. If it had been blocked out properly to support the script, it would've been fine! (We use the term 'blocking it out' in writing and acting, not sure if it's the same for games.) It could have been sooooo good! But. Welp. Bioware apparently has no idea how to hire writers and editors and playtesters for quality control. Y'know, if I even thought they gave a shit about quality, because after playing most of this game? I highly doubt it.

I believe everyone can learn how to write. I don't think you need to have advanced degrees or anything silly like that to do it. But there is quite a bit of science behind writing well. No one is good at it from the start. And no... not everyone can just turn their hands to writing and be good at it. That's just not how the science of writing works. You need to dedicate the time and effort to learning how to write well. Reading a lot helps. Same goes with editing. And I know at least one (more than) of the writers played this before release. They talked about it on their socials. So either they didn't notice that massive fucking plot hole, or they just didn't care enough to fix it.

I don't know how else to put it. If someone had hired me to edit this? I would've sent sooooo much of it back to the writers with fix-it notes. (I even give suggestions on HOW to fix stuff in fix-it notes.)

I'm just gonna call the Solavellan ending now. It's so fucking obvious it's sad. The world will be saved (somehow leaving the veil up? Still not sure how that's gonna work given stuff they've said in this game). And then Inky will either join Solas in his prison because that's twue wuv. OR Solas will sacrifice his mortal form because he never wanted one anyway and Inky will poof turn into a spirit and go with him. And we probably won't get the intimate scene.

And NO that does NOT count as a happy ending! Or even the suggestion of a happy ending! That's them either going to prison or dying! A happy ending would be them living quietly until Inky's natural time, with her gardening and him painting. Or working in secret to help fix some shit, or insert absolutely anything other than what I'm pretty sure will happen. Only when Inky naturally passes would a happy ending be going poof into spirit land. What if she'd wanted a family? What if he had? Uuuuuugh. What if they wanted to enjoy life before becoming spirits? Hang with their friends? Let Solas deliver some overdue apologies? Sigh.

Well. I suppose I'm not just guessing. It wouldn't surprise me if I have more than a little savantism when it comes to writing, editing, and prediction.

And when I'm not recovering from almost dying, editing media is my actual job. One I'm pretty good at.

I dunno. Whenever I look at a piece of media, it's like it forms a 4d puzzle in my head. I can see the problems and where the story is likely to go. I actually read encyclopedias for fun (yes, I'm totally serious).

I also may have been dubbed a walking encyclopedia a time or million. So not only can I see the issues? I can usually figure out several ways to fix them. Very little surprises me in fiction. Making the ones that do incredibly rare and precious to me. It should go without saying that absolutely nothing in this game has surprised me except how bad it is.

But that 4d puzzle thing my brain does with fiction makes it far too easy to guess things. Especially when the writers and devs, at every turn, decided to pick the most banal, most uninspired choices available.

If that's what happens with the Solavellan ending, I'm never trusting Weekes again. They were Lead writer. They had to have had some control. Not just because we likely won't get the only two things Solavellans have wanted for what is it now... 10 years? But that they claim to love their character, Solas. And this entire gods damned game has been doing absolutely nothing but shitting on him. It's honestly been difficult to play as a person who deeply identifies with Solas's neurodivergent traits and his story. And who romanced him.

I'm solidly in a relationship with Lucanis and he's made me dessert. Don't get me wrong, a guy who can cook AND who makes me dessert? A+! But I don't play rated M games with romanceable characters for dessert scenes. I'm starting to wonder if there's even any kissing in this game. There's probably only a day or two at most left for me before I finish it. (And thank everything holy that this is probably true. This is painful at this point. But I need to see the ending for myself.)

Y'know? With all of the betrayals this game has dished out to a die hard Solavellan DA fan? I think no intimate scenes would be the shit cherry on top of the shit sundae of this game.

My kids have started being able to tell when I'm playing without looking at my screen by what they term the 'thousand yard stare of horror'. Honestly? They've probably nailed my expression. How can this be so awful?

Oh and yes, Isseya was ooooooh so eeeeevil. (Insinuating mental illness as evil? Yeah, that's rank ableism. It's not even remotely okay, and both whoever wrote that sequence and whoever approved it should absolutely be ashamed of themselves. Perhaps if they'd actually found and hired some diversity editors along with some better developmenal and copy editors, like I told Epler he needed, someone would've caught that.) Though I have no idea why I'd hoped for better from Bioware. They have absolutely awful ableism issues and always have. Psst. Bioware. It's 2024, might want to fix that.

If you've read Last Flight, the Isseya sequence is such a disrespectful, awful story arc. Even beyond the shitty ableism against mentally ill people. 3% of violent crime (pretty sure we can call that sequence 'violent crime') is committed by mentally ill people. All you neurotypicals need to own the other 97%. And a much better villain was still likely kicking around the deep roads. It hasn't been that long since the 5th Blight.

A much better story would've been stopping the Architect. Permanently. They basically just took his motivation and plans, tacked them (in a very badly fitting suit) to a character that didn't deserve that dirty treatment.

I'm honestly not sure if I can even find words for how fucking disappointing this game is.

I do have to say that other than a few teensy details, the sequence of Taash's rescue efforts for their mom was well written. Pacing was a little off, and the bad guy at the end not having a separate battle was a little anticlimactic, but it's absolutely one of the best written sequences in the game.

And my biggest disappointment for that sequence was that both Taash and my Rook are Lords of Fortune. I know it was all emotional, but why did they both run into one of the most basic trap set-ups in existence? Aren't Lords of Fortune supposed to be sorta, y'know, good at both detecting and avoiding traps?

I forgot to say earlier that Isabela is basically the only previously shown character who actually looks sort of like herself.

Oh, and I was pleased with Bellara talking about figuring out what to keep from the past and what's better about the present. I'd have really liked more than a few sentences on what is truly a massive area they could've explored, but at least they did mention it.

Haven't seen a thing about generational trauma and abuse, though. Nor about what’s happening with all those elves and agents Fen'harel had who joined his fight to free the elves in modern THEDAS. Did the writers forget about that part too? Or just decide the closing scenes of DAI weren't important? It wouldn't matter if this were a stand alone game. It might even be a decent, albeit poorly designed, standalone fighting game.

But a Dragon Age game cannot be a standalone. There's far too much history and Lore and previous decisions that need to be considered when you're making series material.

I honestly don't know how much I have left. I keep thinking I'm almost done, and more quests pop up. I've got the final sequence at the top, then maybe 6 others? Two are treasure hunts I'm not sure if I'm going to bother to finish.

And still. The best part of this game? Is still the sets, scenery, backgrounds, and environments. I can't find a single thing I'd change about any of it.

The rest? Eeeeenh.

Section 12 here.

[endiecutieo6]

-Gorebruary 2023-

Week 2

Heyo! Let’s get to it so that tumblr doesn’t want me dead. Now, onto the content warning!

Day 8/Too many teeth: Body horror, blood, open wounds

Day 9/Freakshow: Body horror, blood, stitches

Day 10/Drowned: Lots of blood

Day 11/Dissected: body horror, eye strain

Day 12/So many eyes: body horror, ommetaphobia, eye strain

13/Cannibalism: Blood, open wounds, visible organs, shaking (for the video portion)

14/Love: Eye strain, visible bruising, visible self harm, blood, organs

“Hyperdontia:

Hyperdontia is the condition of having supernumerary teeth, or teeth that appear in addition to the regular number of teeth (32 in the average adult). They can appear in any area of the dental arch and can affect any dental organ”

PN: I messed up the ordering on this one. This prompt was meant to come AFTER the next one. I also am so mixed about this one. I feel like I could’ve done much better, maybe lean less on the blood and more the body horror. I guess I like the coloring?

"-and here we have our "weeping groom"! Oh? Yeah, that's a guy. Legend has it he's been waiting so long for his lover at the altar, that he kinda forgot it he was the bride or not, and-hey, stop knocking on the glass, he doesn't like that"

"How did he get like that? Well, we don't actually know, we found him like this and took him in, and he just keeps waiting, constantly. He never stops waiting. It's... actually kinda tragic... Now, this freakshow has come to an end. The exit is right behind you, please throw away your garbage in the appropriate spot, and we hope you'll visit again!"

“…um, are you gonna leave or-oh, the blood? It's just decoration, he's not in any actual pain or whatever-hey, I said to stop knocking on the glass! If you really give that much of a shit about him, you'd not do that! Now, get the fuck out before I call security."

"Fuckin' kids- had to install that window because people would throw cigarettes at him- who's the real monster, those fucks or this innocent man? Anyways, let's get you cleaned up and taken to your room, okay bud?"

PN: there’s an au behind this one I just haven’t explored it yet. I also have had a redraw of this on the backseat for fuckin’ ages. I worked really hard on this one anyway.

“No one really knows what happened, when it happened, or even who did it, but it was poor Tracy who came across his corpse first. You swore you could still hear her scream ringing in the air, petrified in a way she'd never been before. Poor girl.

Rusty, spear-like pole to the neck. That's one hell of a way to go. Probably snapped his neck in two, but the blood on his fingers seemed to indicate it didn't fully kill him. It must've been agonizing, and you couldn't help but cringe as you wrote your report.

You already suspected one of the hunters had something to do with it, but who specifically? Hell If you knew.

You knew you were going to have to skip dinner, too afraid you'd empty your guts out on the floor, when you finally noticed the poof of blood in his mouth, and you realized that he, probably in a panic and desperately trying to call for help, choked and drowned in his own blood.

You kept that out of the report. You wanted to forget about this as soon as you could, if just for the sake of your own mental health.”

PN: I both really like and really don’t like this specific image, and it’s hard to explain why. I feel like the angling is a little wonky. Also an OC is writing the report and I might show the OC later.

“Curiosity killed the cat.

Freddy had an issue at letting go, leaving stones unturned and just walking away. It was almost like an itch, maybe even a rash, and he couldn't resist it. He'd scratch and scratch till he clawed his skin open, and he wouldn't stop until he finally got the answer. He knew he'd regret it once it was over, especially if he saw something he couldn't forget, but now he could let it go.

These periods of destructive curiosity were on and off, always something new and always something that would hurt him once it was all over. He'd do it to stories, or people; over analyzing and picking apart every aspect until he was too frail from over exhaustion to continue. It was easier with stories, and it was exhausting with people. It was even worse with himself.

It was only when he looked at himself did he realize how little he thought about his actions, how little thought went into his actions, and suddenly it mattered so much he felt like he was going to fall apart. It was a frenzy; he was practically ripping himself open, claws he didn't know he had sinking into his flesh and just tearing it away. His hands shook terribly, but he couldn’t stop. He had to know.

It wasn’t until he was done dissecting everything about himself did he realize the damage, but it was too late to take anything back. He felt so fucking hollow it made him dizzy. The world seemed to spin around him, yet it was too late.

He couldn't take it back, and by god he wished he could.”

PN: not happy with this one. Even the sketch for this one was weak and I just can’t find anything good about it. I wish I tried a little harder.

“Maybe it’s a little out of line, but I can’t stop staring at you.

You’re so pretty, like a blooming rose.

I can’t let this chance pass me by.

So, I’ll say it:

I love you.

Will you be mine?”

PN: I like this one! I don’t have too much to say other than that unfortunately.

PN: this is literally just the PV for “The spider and the Kitsune-like lion” by MASA. I have super mixed feelings about this one because I feel like I didn’t try hard enough. The body is fine but the head is just iffy. If I redrew it I’d try much harder.

WARNING:

This story contains:

Depictions/ descriptions of self harm

Depictions/ descriptions of violence

Mental Breakdowns

Mental health struggles

“He couldn't do this again.

It hurt, it hurt so much. It sunk its rotten daws into his shriveled heart, and the way it tugged it down- it was too much.

He promised he wouldn’t do this again, to dare let this feeling take over him. It nearly brought him to tears every time he glanced down at the ring on his finger, a golden band that reflected his pathetic expression. Sometimes, he swore that his expression would narrow its eyes at him, disgusted. It nearly made him want to take it off but that only hurt more.

In desperation, he locked himself away. He hardly left his room, only leaving when he needed to, and praying no one noticed his puffy eyes and his red cheeks. Humiliatingly, he found himself bursting into tears at the drop of a dime. He was practically weeping his way through the day, and it was getting harder to hide.

That damned feeling stil lingered, stood at his doorway and just stared. It flexed its claws and grinned a toothy grin, eyes narrowed in a forced attempt at a smile. "You can't ignore me forever" it sang rapping its blistered knuckles against his nightstand as he tried to sleep "there's no point: I'm not leaving"

It was true, and he hated it. A reality he couldn't deny was a cruel punishment, but maybe he deserved it.

As the days went by, he only got worse. He wouldn't eat, he'd bang his head against his desk until he was too faint to continue, he'd scratch at his neck and shoulders and chest, wishing he could just rip himself open and be done with it all sometimes, he'd wrap his fingers aroundhis neck and just squeeze. It was almost cathartic when his vision started to darken, when his mind began to twirl and his heart seemed to scratch desperately at his flesh. He'd always let go, but then he'd do it again and again.

But, every action has a consequence, and his was the various marks his injuries would leave behind. Bruises and cuts on his forehead, blood smeared underneath his nose, the growing red stains where he'd been too tired to clean up his wounds and let them bleed into his shirt, and the deep, reddish prints his palms left behind. A beautiful portrait of his suffering.

The others were starting to notice; Lingering stares followed his every movement when he occasionally snuck out of his room. It made his skin crawl every time they opened their mouths, as if they wanted to say something, only to decide against it and just give him a look, almast a silent plea for him to just stop.

Every time, he'd paused in consideration. He'd look down at himself, down at the dried blood on the underside of his fingernails, and he'd want to end all of this.

Then, he'd look up and see them. His heart, his treacherous, bastard heart would dare to beat, and it was like he was pushed back into the water. And, as he drowned, he'd chuckle to himself, suddenly remembering words he would bitterly growl to himself as a pathetic method of comfort he'd turn to when the dark, lonely nights became unbearable:

“What's called romance is nothing but fooling oneself before foding others"

What a hypocrite.

With the cycle starting all over again, he'd let his mind entertain fantasies of his fingers, having finally sunk deep enough into his chest to rip it open, grasped and finally tore out that tell tale heart, and he'd smile as he imagined himself floating away into a red sea, happy.

What a terrible thing: to be in love.”

PN: Love the story, hate the image. It fails to convey the pain I wanted it to and it just doesn’t stand up on its own. It seems like a first draft, and I'm so disappointed in it. Also, the love in this story is meant to be towards Kreacher but I kept it vague enough to be anyone. I think it makes the story stronger.

Alrighty, see you guys soon!

[innytoes]

Hi Hungry, I'm dad for Reggie/Ray/Rose because you KNOW that mfer would break out the dad jokes once Julie and Carlos were old enough to groan at them.

As a country singer, Reggie was no stranger to dressing up as a cowboy and pretending to be cooler than he actually was. Also, he looked damn good in a cowboy hat.

He wasn't wearing his cowboy hat right now, but he was very impressively wielding the spray bottle Rose used to water the plants. "Hold it, Buckaroo," he called, and Carlos froze in his tracks. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a poof of curly hair duck behind the kitchen island. "Put those cupcakes back. Those are for when Mom comes home from her trip this afternoon."

Ray was already on his way to the airport to pick her up, so it wasn't like they'd have to wait super long. Hopefully.

"But I'm hungry," Carlos whined.

"Hi Hungry, I'm Dad," Reggie said, delighted to hear two identical groans, before a gasp from behind the kitchen island as Julie probably slapped a hand onto her mouth. "You too, Juliebean."

"You got busted!" Carlos cackled, putting the cupcake back in the box. Julie's head popped past the side of the kitchen island, glaring at her little brother. She did sheepishly put the cupcake back where it belonged, though.

"Thank you," Reggie said, because he hated being the Strict Parent. But he hated the idea of disappointing Ray and Rose even more. And Ray had gotten Rose's favourites to welcome her back after she went to help Lily and Violet move. "If you're hungry now, we can grab some fruit or crackers?"

"But we're hungry for cupcakes!" Julie pouted. She was adorable when she pouted. It really was unfair. Rose always said she got that pout from him, but Reggie wasn't so sure. Because if he was that cute, they would have like fifteen puppies by now. And a hamster. Possibly a pony.

"Oh, that's too bad," he said. "Guess I'll just have to practice catching grapes in my mouth all by myself, then."

"I wanna catch grapes!" Carlos predictably shouted, jumping up and down. Julie pouted, but was quickly also drawn into their little game. And okay, maybe not all the grapes made it, but still, those were some quality vitamins being thrown into his children's mouths. A+ Dadding, in his opinion.

That was until they heard the car pull up to the house and Reggie looked around the kitchen.

"Quick, go distract Mami and Papi while I clean up all these grapes!" he said, and thankfully, his little minions ran to the door to ambush their other two parents so he had time to grab the broom and dustpan.

Oh yeah, totally killing it in the Dad department.

[scutesketch]

Season 1 finale comes out today. I’m calling it, Hazel is gonna use her 1 millionth wish to save Peri after he explodes into confetti from being an unemployed bitch who hasn’t been using his magic to grant much wishes.

That thing about fairies was mentioned in a recent episode and hasn’t had any purpose yet but it was written as if it was important, and considering there is only one more episode to come out, and we have seen that Peri has been sitting on his parents couch eating spaghetti while Dev is probably not been calling him over while he learns more about Anti-fairies.

Ah yes, It’s all coming together.

If it doesn’t play out like this I’m gonna look like an idiot but if it does I’m gonna party bro bc I called it!

[wackymaci]

PRESENTING.,,, A FULLY CANON CONVO: “ChalBel looks for loki (lmfao)/ and RETURNS HIM”

hey what if…. I just post the entire thing.

hm :)c (yes that’s the formal archive title^)

QUICK NOTES BEFORE YOU READ ALL THIS🥹

1. SEND A MINDREADER AFTER THE GOD OF LIES????? god it should have ALWAYS been set to happen this way!!

2. Once upon a time I said that i feel bad for never wholly portraying Bel in my art and posts due to the fact that Bel’s moments are usually up against Chal, who’s a chaotic mess, and so Bel always seems really calm and stoic when compared to her. THIS conversation is the most perfect, perfect, peak Bel showcase completely. please view the MOST Married Couple of All Time, they are SOOOO

3. a special thank you (as ALWAYS) to fenixe (who is not even here fgkFGK) - as we all know, fenixe and I never PLAN anything OoC together and even when shit happens we’re never conferencing about , like. intention. so for her to SO COMPLETELY AND ACCURATELY clock exactly what Loki’s doing (through Bel, mindreader!!) is so,, chefs kiss. THE ELYSIUM HIVEMIND??? We don’t OoC conference because we don’t NEED TOOOO LMAOOO-

4. Format is in fact spacier and slightly weird due to just being a full copypaste of the thread. I’m actually not going to post this as screenshots cause it is SOOOOOOOOOO LONG and. I can’t decide where to cut and paste. so… so!! hghhh this is why I do screenshots cause *i* hate when it’s formatted like this but whateverrrrrrr I’ll get over it. that being said I went ahead and bolded names idk if that’s easier to read or???

5. Obviously don’t reblog this lol

6. pls enjoy. HHHHHHGHHG-

~*~

Chal: -curled with Bel-

Libby: -wanders to-

Chal: Hi. How was your cult meeting?

Libby: Um, it was good…

Bel: -quiet- -petting Chal-

Libby: Can you go look for Loki for us?

Chal: …Who, me?

Libby: Uh-huh.

Chal: …Me specifically? What? Why?

Bel: I’ll go with you.

Chal: -glances between- Wh— huh? How is that my fucking job?

Libby: -flutters wings- We think Loki may be hiding in the pocket voids around here—no one else really knows how to get to them, so…

Chal: What do you mean he’s hiding?

Libby: ‘Cause the baby, and…

Chal: What do you mean the baby?

Bel: He’s pregnant.

Chal: He’s pregnant?

Libby: Yeah, so he ran away. We’re trying to find him, he.

Libby: -small voice- He um, Tory and Maci are really upset. Well, everyone’s really upset.

Chal: The fuck do Tory and Maci care?

Libby: Um…

Bel: Tory’s the other parent.

Chal: …Is he hiding from Maci?

Bel: I don’t think so? They’re on good terms now.

Chal: What am I supposed to do if I find him?

Libby: Bring him home.

Chal: -scoffs- He’s not gonna fucking listen to me.

Bel: If he doesn’t listen, should we call you?

Libby: Uh-huh. Me, or… Rane’s always in charge, or maybe Fen…

Chal: Whoa whoa whoa what if he flips out at me? What if he fucking turns me into a baby again?!

Bel: I’ll poof you away if I hear him thinking about it.

Libby: Please, Chal? He’s my mom, and no one else knows knows how to get into the voids.

Chal: Maybe I don’t even fucking know how to get into those anymore, it’s been a long fucking time since…

Libby: Chal pleeee-ase.

Chal: -frowns- -quiet-

Chal: -mumbles- Okay fine.

Bel: -takes Chal’s hand-

Libby: -hugs Chal- Thank you thank you.

Chal: -mumbles- Whatever.

Chal: -squeezes Bel’s hand- -poofs with-

Bel: -laces fingers-

Chal: What’s the fucking plan here? Should we have come up with a plan? What the fuck are I supposed to say if we actually find him?

Chal: This is so stupid. These things are like, all over the place. There’s so many of them and they all look the same. I don’t have a map. Only Loki has a map, maybe.

Bel: I guess just, say that his kids want him to come home?

Chal: -runs hands over face- Gods fuck oh my gods fuck. Yeah, ‘cause we’re gonna be the ones he’s gonna be thrilled to see. Fuck me oh my gods fuck this.

Chal: -curls wings- -sighs- …Well, he’s not in this one.

Bel: -looking around- How many of these are there?

Chal: Yeah, that’s the other thing— I have no idea. Tens? Hundreds? Thousands?

Chal: -poofs with-

Chal: …Probably not thousands. That seems like a lot.

Bel: I guess we’ll keep looking?

Chal: -small nod-

Chal: They’re not even nice to be in, they’re empty, they’re unsettling. Like accidentally ending up behind the fucking scenes or something.

Chal: -sighs- How long has Loki even been hiding for?

Bel: I’m not sure. I didn’t hear it.

Chal: But you heard Libby’s meeting? Did they all offer me up as sacrifice to Loki’s rage?

Bel: -shakes head- They wanted your help because you can navigate these places.

Bel: -pauses-

Bel: And they wanted me with you to do the talking if we find him.

Chal: …Oh. That makes more sense, he might listen to you. Definitely not me.

Chal: -poofs with-

Chal: What if he turns you into a baby?

Bel: I’ll, um.

Bel: I’ll try not to let it go there.

Chal: -stops- …Loki used to— Loki was a fucking, supervillain. Isn’t Loki fucking dangerous? Is this dangerous?

Chal: Is he going crazy in a fit of fucking rage? What if we have to fight him?

Chal: I, I can’t win against him in a fight. I don’t even know if I know how to fight anymore and I can’t do magic.

Bel: He hasn’t been overtly malicious in a long while.

Chal: Maybe he turned “overtly malicious” while he was running away. Maybe he’s gonna be in a real overtly malicious fucking mood about me and you trying to talk to him. Um, you trying to talk to him.

Bel: Still, it’s… We got asked to look for him by his kids. It’s important we try.

Chal: -mumbles- We don’t have to… Ugh, I guess.

Chal: You knew he was gonna have a baby…?

Bel: -nods- I heard it, but he didn’t want me to tell anyone.

Chal: Oh, shit.

Chal: -poofs with- -looking around-

Chal: And no one else knew? For like, a long fucking time?

Bel: No one but Tory and Maci, I guess.

Chal: -gives look- …And you and Ty.

Bel: Not on purpose.

Chal: Hmph.

Chal: How long am I supposed to keep going through the voids for? What if he’s not even in any of these? We could be here fucking forever. Who’s gonna put N to bed?

Bel: I guess when we need to put N to bed, we can stop.

Chal: -sulks- And then just, back at it tomorrow and every fucking day forever?

Chal: What if he hides for nine months?

Bel: If it’s too much labor, well…

Bel: We do have a daughter to take care of.

Chal: Right. Exactly, yeah. We do. I’m not taking N into the voids, so…

Chal: …-quieter- Is, um. Is Libby really upset?

Bel: She’s worried, mostly.

Chal: -sighs-

Chal: -mumbles- I’m sure Loki would probably come back on his own eventually…

Bel: Probably, but…

Bel: Well, he’s at risk for complications. If he’s not able to use his magic or get help…

Chal: Oh… Oh, that’s…

Chal: -frowns- Why… why’d he fucking leave then?

Bel: I don’t know.

Bel: Habit, or nerves?

Chal: -squints- That doesn’t make any sense. If he’s nervous about complications why banish himself to the fucking, middle of nowhere where no one can even get to him?

Chal: …Does Loki have anxiety?

Bel: -nods- A ton of it, actually.

Chal: -stops- Huh. …Seriously?

Bel: Yeah.

Chal: He could try therapy. He made me fucking do it.

Bel: -small smile- Maybe when he’s back home, you can suggest it.

Chal: Yeah, right. If he’s not mad enough at me for trying to find him, then that’ll do it for fucking sure…

Bel: -quiet-

Chal: -squeezes hand- -mumbles- This is so stupid. I mean, he could be in any of these. He could even be anywhere.

Bel: -soft sigh-

Chal: -poofs with-

Chal: Maybe he’s not even in here at all. Who said he was hiding here in the first place? If no one knows how to get in then how—

Loki: -looks at-

Chal: -stops short-

Bel: Oh—

Chal: -stutters- Oh, fuck—

Loki: -raises eyebrow- -faintly- Interesting.

Loki: -gestures to poof-

Bel: Wait!

Loki: -snarls- What.

Bel: You—

Bel: -runs hands over face- Ugh.

Chal: …Holy fuck you’re really fucking pregnant—

Loki: -eyeroll- -poofs-

Bel: Aaaaagh fuck you fuck you come back.

Chal: -sputters- That is SO pregnant! What happens if he has a baby in here?! Do you know how to deliver a baby?!

Chal: -clutches at- What if we find him again and he’s having a baby?

Bel: I-I mean, he knows how, so I could read his mind and figure it out…

Chal: I don’t—

Chal: -small noise- -poofs with-

Chal: -spins all around- -deflates- Fuck, fuck, it’s empty.

Bel: Maybe he’s still close?

Chal: Okay. Okay.

Chal: Okay if we find him again what do we do.

Bel: I’ll try to talk to him.

Bel: Like, actually talk.

Chal: Okay, fuck, okay.

Chal: Okay, lemme— -poofs with-

Chal: -frustrated groan- -poofs again-

Chal: -goes to poof- …. -freezes- Oh—

Loki: -sighs- -dryly- Oh, you’re after me, is that it? Here I thought I might be interrupting date night.

Bel: Shitokayokay—

Bel: Look, your children asked us to help find you.

Bel: They want you home.

Loki: -face falls slightly- -tucks arm around belly- -composes self-

Loki: Well, you can let them know you’ve found me. That I’m quite well. That I love them dearly.

Loki: …-frowns- That I don’t want to return, which they ought to know.

Bel: Why??

Bel: Everyone — Tory, Maci, your family, they’re upset.

Bel: They miss you.

Loki: -swallows hard- -petting belly-

Loki: Ah, well. You see, it’s simply because—

Loki: -gives look- -poofs-

Bel: WAIT—

Chal: NO!

Chal: -fidgets- D-do we keep going or pass a message?

Bel: Keep going!

Bel: All the fucking teleporting is making me nauseous, it’s fucking personal now, just go!

Chal: -scrambles- -poofs-

Loki: Don’t you have better things to do?

Chal: -startles- Oh shit, there you— Do the voids all go in— order?

Loki: Would you like a map? Would that be easier for you?

Bel: Oh my gods, just fucking listen!

Bel: Why are you even here? You know full well you’re just making yourself worse being all alone; what happened to not up and disappearing for this child?

Loki: -witty retort dies- -falters slightly-

Bel: And your kids figured out what’s wrong on their own — I didn’t tell anyone — because you always. fucking. do this.

Chal: -clutching Bel- -staring between-

Loki: None of this concerns you. Neither of you.

Chal: Bullshit, Libby misses you too.

Bel: Yeah, it does! My sister-in-law’s missing her fucking dad.

Loki: -evenly- I believe I’m designated Libby’s mother, thank you very much.

Bel: Ohmygods, it’s semantics.

Loki: -waves hand- I’ll return eventually. My children can come to me. When there aren’t search parties I can— they know this. They know I’ll always…

Bel: Fucking hell, they’re worried you’re gonna get hurt.

Bel: Wasn’t that the whole point of staying home? You’ve got support if something happens?

Bel: Fucking off to a hidey-void is familiar, I get it, but it’s not safer.

Loki: I won’t be hurt.

Loki: -glaring daggers- And it feels safer.

Loki: I don’t need support, this endless charade. I can handle myself, myself. I j-just— I just need time to— -falters-

Loki: -swallows- -viciously- Being chased through liminal spaces isn’t helpful, either.

Bel: Time to what? Sabotage your relationships because they can’t abandon you if you do it first, on your terms?

Loki: -breath hitches- -visible flinch-

Loki: -snarls- -POOFS-

Chal: -coughs- The dramatic smoke wasn’t necessary, can you not piss him off into exploding—

Bel: -yelling- GO TO FUCKING THERAPY.

Chal: -poofs with-

Loki: Now you’re really starting to irritate me.

Bel: You’re irritated? I’m irritated!

Loki: You’re welcome to leave!

Bel: I’m not done yelling at you!

Bel: Tory thinks he’s done something wrong and who’s gotta listen to his head? Me!

Loki: -pales slightly- —Gods I told him it wasn’t personal, th-that none of this would be…

Bel: You’re fairly well known for lying.

Loki: -sneers- Well, then there’s what happened for “not up and disappearing with this child,” your answer in turn.

Bel: Bullshit, I know this is your other bit: you’re also well-known for acquiring nice situations, getting nervous about something happening to the nice situation, and then you create a catastrophe because if the nice thing you have is gonna go up in flames, at least it’s on your terms.

Bel: How will you know if people give a shit about you if you never give them a chance?

Loki: -opens mouth- -closes-

Loki: -blinking furious tears- -poofs-

Chal: -breathless- I think you’re fucking winning, -poofs after-

Loki: -frustrated groan- This seems like all just a lot of fuss for no reason.

Loki: They’ve others to occupy their time— They can fuck the clones, if they’re so deprived. Tell them I said so.

Chal: Aagh, gods.

Bel: What do you mean, no reason? Your children want you home, Tory and Maci want you home, Rane’s made a fucking council to figure out where you went.

Loki: Rane’s always making councils, it’s her favorite hobby.

Chal: You keep swerving around all the fucking subjects.

Loki: -glares at- -icily- No reason, as my children can come and go to find me as they see fit, for visits if they wish. All these theatrics, sprung upon me before I’d a chance to find them. Tory and Maci—

Loki: -voice wobbles slightly- …Are f… furious, I’m sure, and I won’t return to be in the line of fire.

Loki: And Rane just likes gathering councils. There, all your subjects.

Bel: I’m not stupid. You think Tory and Maci will blow up if you come back?

Bel: Your children don’t even know where you are; it’s why we found you.

Bel: Everyone misses you and wants you safe. Go home.

Loki: You must understand this was all very impromptu. I didn’t mean… I didn’t… I would have sent for my children, I didn’t get a chance to— I’d never leave them—

Loki: I-In the meantime, Maci and Tory will find another fifty things to be angry about beyond myself and the turmoil I’ve caused; eventually I can fall further from out of their graces and into irrelevance, I— I’ll return when tempers are cooled, once they’ve moved on.

Bel: Tempers never went off! They’re worried, not angry. You’re creating scenarios in your head, and that’s the only place they exist.

Bel: If you care about them at all, you’ll cut it out with the borderline behavior and stop sabotaging the relationship you built.

Loki: -hugging belly- -stares away from-

Loki: You’re utterly naive if you think I could just, what, waltz back? Popped out for a quick break? Pretend it never happened, fall back to— the normalcy that— the way I— we’d—

Loki: And say it does and I dissolve into panic again and—

Loki: —Oh for gods’ sake, might we all sit in a circle and discuss our feelings here? Might we all be better off? Begone with this. Let me be.

Bel: You literally can. Just go back.

Loki: I won’t. I won’t return to collapse again— and again, again. They ought to have known what they’d— I’d warned them. Their own stupidity if they’d chosen bare optimism instead.

Loki: -sneers- And you can pass that message along, as well. -goes to poof-

Loki: -green fizzles- -goes nowhere-

Chal: -startles- …O-oh, shit…?

Loki: …-closes eyes- -SIGHS-

Bel: Out of juice?

Loki: -withering glare- -yes-

Chal: -holds out panicky hands- Are you gonna— have the, fucking baby?

Loki: …No, Chal.

Bel: It’s fucking with his magic.

Loki: -snaps at- Perhaps it’s merely a side effect of hauling myself and a large, developing mystery, to travel rapidfire across many, many difficult to reach pockets in succession.

Loki: I was quite comfortable where you’d found me. Quiet. Alone, peaceful. A bed that wasn’t sweltering, no impossible expectations looming over my head. Functioning magic, m-mostly. Here we are, a million voids later.

Chal: Shit, it is fucking with you? You look all— sweaty.

Loki: Just go away.

Bel: Fine, it’s not like I have much else to say to you—

Bel: -lunges for Loki- -poofs with-

Loki: -struggles away from- -PREGNANT AND AWKWARD- -snarling- How DARE you, you’ll pay for this I swear it—

Chal: -yelling- No the fuck he won’t, he’s fucking helping your stupid ass anyway!

Bel: -poofs back to palace-

Loki: -crumples to knees- -trying not to cry-

Loki: -folds over belly-

Libby: -gasps- You actually found—?!

Bel: Yeah, somehow.

Bel: Also fuck him, he kept teleporting from pocket to pocket.

Chal: I-I think we’re all dizzy and nauseous, really fucking fun, fucking asshole—

Libby: Are you okay?! Are you— -kneels to Loki- A-are you, okay, the baby…?

Loki: -hangs head- The baby’s okay, I…

Loki: -tears streaming- -whispers- Please don’t call your siblings, they shouldn’t s-see me in this state.

Loki: You won, let me be.

Libby: I…

Chal: -beseeches Tory-

Tory: -poofs-

Chal: -points-

Tory: -pauses-

Loki: -hunches into ball- -choked sob-

Libby: -hovers- The, the baby’s okay, he said…

Tory: -quiet- -pets Chal’s shoulder-

Chal: -stumbles back against Tory- S, sorry I don’t know if I— maybe I shouldn’t have called you if, b-but he said not the kids and Bel and me already spent too much time fucking yelling at him in the voids and I don’t, uhh…

Tory: -kisses top of head- You did really good.

Chal: -beams slightly- Bel did better.

Tory: You’re a team.

Chal: -BEAMS MORE- -squeezes Bel’s hand-

Chal: Please don’t let him fucking kill us.

Tory: -crouches by Loki-

Loki: -sobbing in heap- -trembling-

Tory: -pets-

Loki: -coughs- -sobs-

Chal: -inches closer to Bel- H-his um, he couldn’t teleport… Maybe the baby, we dunno.

Tory: -squeezes Loki’s shoulder- Stand up.

Loki: -tears streaming- -sniffling- -shakes head-

Loki: …-struggles up anyway- -holding belly-

Loki: -can’t look at-

Tory: -hugs Loki-

Loki: -stiffens- … -sobs- -crumples into-

Tory: -rubbing back-

Loki: -trembling-

Libby: I-I um, I’ll tell everyone that he… I-I’ll tell them to see you tomorrow, if…

Libby: You’re… staying, right? You’re not leaving again tomorrow?

Loki: -small voice- -hoarse- I’ll b-be here.

Tory: -brushes hair out of face-

Loki: -small sob- -stares into floor-

Tory: You’re okay?

Loki: -shakes head-

Tory: Do you want to sit down?

Loki: -wobbly nod- -not looking at-

Chal: -like watching a trainwreck- -backs away-

Chal: -so awkward- Do you— you can— have our room if, we’ll all go s-someplace else if you, have to cry on the floor or, something.

Tory: -guides Loki to couch- I’ll take care of him.

Chal: -nodnodnod- -grabs Bel/Libby- -mutters- I need to fucking lie down. We’re walking to bed, I’m teleporting zero more times tonight.

~*~

aaaaand..,,, scene

thanks for reading<3 yknow…. I hope posting these threads (pieces, whole parts) provides some insight into why I’m the way I am with elysium lmfao

AAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

[annkous]

Lesson 22 came out last night aaaaaAAAAA

They always catch me by surprise, I swear... It seems this time they're releasing lessons every 7 days instead of 10.

Anyways, lesson 22!

Previous lesson!

We start the day by going to the House of Lamentation again. Mammon, thank heavens, seems to be acting a bit more normal. So far, so good.

Instead of the usual dynamic of Luci and Mammon, we get Belphie being worried about him this time around. I love these brothers so much.

Even while we're busy taking care of the brothers and walking them to RAD, Solomon's words about the possibility of getting stuck here ring through our head. We can't catch a break.

Things are chill for now. They're reuniting with Diavolo to try and get ideas for future RAD events, and Mammon comes up with something to raise up funds and... maybe things aren't back to normal just yet.

I CALLED IT PREVIOUSLY I mean it wasn't really hard, was it jdshfd but yes. They're starting to be less subtle about this whole thing being about Mammon being the Avatar of Greed. Diavolo's father gets a mention (gasp) and they even drop a bit of foreshadowing about how the titles he bestowed upon them seem to be important.

We get sent to clean the library (whohoo) and we're atop of the stairs cleaning the top of a shelf. Your shoujo or fanfic senses might tingle a bit. I mean, we already got a sprained ankle scene.

And there, we find a book. Not any book. THE book. The one that tells the story at the beginning of Nightbringer: the one of the human and the demon.

Cue me screaming.

GODDAMMIT.

They all guess the demon in the story is Nightbringer, and Satan comments that he found a mention about Nightbringer in a Celestial Realm book about the Father of Demons. Apparently, Nightbringer was The First Demon to be "born."

This whole thing isn't working on Barbatos' favor about NOT being Nightbringer, let me tell you. If I remember correctly, we are told somewhere (either main story or an event/card, I forgot haha.....) that Barbatos wasn't exactly born: he just started existing. He didn't have a childhood, he just poofed into existence. That would fit the First Demon ever.

However, there's no more info he can give us for now. To match the sprained ankle energy from lesson 21, the ladder shakes when we move and we fall down to the ground, BUT LEVI COMES TO THE RESCUE AND CATCHES US and honestly it was really sweet. Then shit goes down.

The title is "what's come over mammon", so you can guess where this is going.

This brings og!OM flashbacks where he says something similar, but it's not in this way. In the og!OM if you remember, around the beginning after he's grown attached, he says he's the only one that wants to come to your rescue, and that you shouldn't call anyone else first, but he's in full "tsundere" mode, so people found it endearing. This is going down a different route, but because Greed has fully taken over him, to the point he's going to actually fight his brothers over you. We all know Mammon, and how he wouldn't do this seriously. It's obvious something's wrong.

Asmo being really angry is such a treat to see, though.

We try "stay" and it doesn't work, so we try to step in. It doesn't work, either. Mammon's so gone it gets to the point he tries to shove you if you step in.

Satan tries to use a curse-nullifying spell, but it doesn't work because it's not a curse. Beel can't hold Mammon, who has even transformed, for longer, so the only thing you all can think about is to book it.

Thankfully, you all find Lucifer on your escapade, who sees Mammon on your heels and knocks him out with one hit. Damn.

So Mammon's now knocked out, and you're all watching over him while storming ideas...

They're so right on the money. I'm so happy the whole Avatar of Greed was said outright. Also if helping Mammon implies making the pact, it means they're all probably going to go through this. They're a bit scared, though... And that's why I see mc trying to do anything so they don't go through the same thing Mammon just did, even if it means giving up the pacts for now.

In any case, they're worried about how they can possibly end up being taken over, just like Mammon...

:(

Lucifer comes to the rescue, saying he's spoken to Diavolo and that he's come up with an idea, so off we go. We get a bit more worried Belphie over his older brother as a treat before we leave, too.

According to Diavolo, the ones that can save Mammon are us (obviously) and Little D. No. 2 (what). Okay at first I was caught off-guard but then they dropped lore and I loved it and got hooked two sentences in. You know how the Little Demons have the Brother's qualities? Like, Little Demon of Greed, Little Demon of Pride, etc... all those little ones that are in the lower ranked cards? They get cool lore.

The Fairy King gets another mention! Solmare better not mention him too much, or people might want to see a design (it's me I'm people)

So apparently, every time a Demon is born, they can get a Little Demon counterpart, although it's extremely rare, yet according to Diavolo, every single one of the brothers has one, and those Little Demons are currently safe and sound working in the Demon Lord's Castle. Not for long, though, if the plot has its way LMFAO

This whole "mc entering Mammon's inner self to save him" is some Kingdom Hearts soriku kind of shit and honestly I live for it.

We have the option to consider sending one of the brothers instead, but we know Mammon has a special part of his heart reserved for us, regardless of where we stand with him, so in the end, we're the best option. I thought they'd send everyone together, since his brothers are also very important to Mammon, but maybe they'll play a role later. I want another Demon Brothers hug pile.

As a little add-on, Little Demon Number 2 is scared shitless of going into Mammon's mind, but the brothers staring very seriously at it plus us asking nicely (at least my option lol the other was "you've got self-esteem issues on par with levi" and I laughed way too much at that) make it fold pretty quickly pffft.

So we enter Mammon's mind in search of his inner self...

Of course it's the Celestial Realm HJDSFSF and the lesson ends just as someone (Mammon) is yelling "OUTTA THE WAY" near us.

Since this lesson was also short (9 battle stages and 8 story ones plus the extra), I went ahead and did the extra plus the hard mode. You also unlock a VIDEO CALL (AAAAAAA) but we'll see that one later.

The extra takes place as you're all walking to the library to clean it, talking about the 666 mysteries of RAD. Mammon is terrified, and admits he's been like that since Adam took over him.

Most options you get here are cute though lol (give him a laughing charm, a calming charm or prank him and make him more terrified) I have to try the laughing one. The calming one helps him and also makes everyone else ask for a charm as well.

The scene from hard mode is Barbatos looking around for Little D. No. 2. Clearly it's to bring it to the House of Lamentation, but Little D. is running away like a kid is running away from a parent thinking they're in for a scolding. Remember how Nightbringer is referenced as the Father of Demons? Okay it might be a bit of a reach but IT WOULD BE INCREDIBLE-

Anyways it gets found by Diavolo, who hands it over to Barbatos and gets dragged away to the House of Lamentation. Rip.

It's not over, though, because after finishing the hard mode, you also get a main story chat. We also still have to see the WW map situation, and actually both are related. I didn't realize though so I did the chat first and then the video call, but it made it funnier for me, so I'll put them as I read them.

Damn Solomon went STRAIGHT for his throat-

Note also the name he has saved Mammon as lol I love it. Between the German numbers in normal mode cards (this time we have Vier (Satan), Fünt (Asmo) and Sechs (Beel)) and this my nerd language lover is over the moon.

Well......... It was nice knowing poor Mammon. Seems like he has a contender about being greedy over you, too.

Okay but the fact that Mammon called MC's name when addressing Lucifer though that's actually pretty funny LMFAO

Then comes the video call, which is between Luke, Simeon and Solomon.

They're talking about Mammon, mostly because they're all worried about him, and Simeon lets slip that we are an important existence to Mammon, maybe even moreso than his own brothers, and Solomon latches to that piece of info while Luke begs Simeon to please stop talking... but it's too late. LMAO WELL. WE KNOW NOW WHO SPILLED THE BEANS TO SOLOMON.

rip Mammon........ oh Simeon what have you done...

Can't wait to see how the other siblings go through this mess and if we FINALLY get one pact out of this Our first pact AGAIN. And how we're gonna go on an inner-self adventure with their respective Little Demons. I don't like the way I'm wording this tbh JHDSFF

edit: LESSON 23 IS UP AAAA LET'S GO SAVE MAMMON

[kringletheelf04]

Boo-hooing

(Chapter 13 of two souls entwined in the North Pole)

"What's all this boo-hooing going on here?" Bernard asks, magically coming from somewhere in the kitchen, pita sandwich half eaten in his hand.

"Hey, how ya doin?" He nods to Neal, mouth half full of food.

"It's nothing Bernard. We're just saying goodbye to Charlie." I explain.

"What goodbye? Charlie, you still got the glass ball, right?" He asks, swinging his free arm around my waist.

"Yeah." Charlie nods, brushing tears away.

"Well, all you gotta do is shake it whenever you want to see your dad or sibling." Bernard explains.

"Really?" Charlie asks in awe.

"They can come back to see you anytime of day or night." Bernard reassures.

"Hey, have I ever steered ya wrong?" He asks.

Charlie shakes his head as Neil and Laura approach us.

"Nice sweater. Did we make this?" Bernard asks, trying to check Neil for a tag as he shakes him away.

I chuckle. I don't know if he's genuine or not, either way it's funny. He turns and looks at me with a love struck look. Walking over to me he caresses my face.

"Your laugh is the most mirthful noise I have ever heard in my sixteen hundred and twenty two years of living." He says as I stare into his captivating chestnut eyes.

I snap out of it hearing Neil's distressed voice. Bernard's hand drops from my face to entwined with mine. Turning, I see Neil approaching Laura.

"Laura! They're sucking us into his delusions. Look at the elaborate measures they've taken. " Neil tries to reason.

"Neil, relax." I say.

Stepping into the chimney, Bernard gives me a kiss and poofs into glitter. Dad follows me. Placing a finger on the tip of my nose, we shoot up the chimney. On the roof sits our sleigh and we load into it. From down below on the street we hear voices.

"Chief! Look up there!" I hear a police officer shout.

The voices of children ring out through the quiet night. Hushed whispers of parents are also hears. All of them talking about us.

"Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night!" Dad calls out and cracks the reins.

The reindeer take off and we are gone in the blink of an eye, soaring through the black night sky. We place presents under every tree from Illinois to Ohio. Suddenly a light with Charlie's face on it starts rapidly blinking. Pressing on the button beside it, we are teleported to Laura's living room.

"Hey sport!" I call to Charlie.

"Dad! (Y/n)!" He runs to us with his arms open.

"You miss us already? We've been gone, what? Ten minutes." Dad asks checking his watch.

"We were on our way to Cleveland when we got your call, sport." I ruffle his hair.

"Do you wanna go for a quick ride?" Dad asks him.

"Yeah!" Charlie jumps up and down in excitement.

"Of course, it's up to your mom." I chime in.

"Please mom?" He gives her his signature puppy dog eyes.

"Go on. Get outta here." Laura jokes.

"All right. Hold on." I say grabbing ahold of dad as he boops his nose.

Back in the sleigh we continue to deliver all the presents, this time with Charlie with us. Landing back in front of Laura's house, I give Charlie a quick hug.

"Now, I know I'm only a shake away, but I'm gonna be packing for the pole. So if you need me again, just call my cell." I tell Charlie.

"Sport, I love you so much. I couldn't have done this without you." Dad gives him a kiss on the cheek.

We take back off and land on our roof.

"Dad, just fly back without me for now. I've got to pack our things, and a big, green sleigh shouldn't be on our roof in the morning when people wake up." I hug dad goodbye and open up our house.

Going upstairs, I open my room. Taking out my suitcase, I start packing all of my belongings. I had all of my clothes already folded, so this goes by pretty quickly. I go into Charlie's room and pick up his stuffed bear dressed like Santa. I can't help but think, how often will I get to see him. I guess he could always FaceTime me, if there actually is wifi in the pole. I decide to take it with me, a souvenir of my little brother.

"What's wrong snowbird?" I hear a voice I've grown to love ask me.

"Just thinking about Charlie." I say turning around to face Bernard.

"You know, your dad isn't the only one who can teleport." He grins.

"What do you mean?" I ask, quirking my eyebrow.

"Since you're technically the spirit of Christmas, all you gotta do is picture where you are and wiggle your ears, and you'll be there." Bernard swings his arms around my shoulders.

"That would have been nice to know, ya know!" I playfully smack his hand off me.

"I'm sorry!" He feigns a hurt look. "But just to let you know, the rest of the elves can get your stuff. You didn't have to come here."

"I figured, but I wanted to make sure I got my bag and Charlie's bear." I smile down at the bear.

"Well, now that I'm here, I can take that for you." He says taking my suitcase from me.

I grab a hold of his hand and entwine our fingers together.

"Would you like to do the honors of taking us home, snowbird?" Bernard asks, a gentle smile gracing his face.

"I'd love to." I grin back.

Wiggling my ears and thinking of my dad, we appear in the workshop. He's standing in front of all the elves when we appear in front of him. He stops mid sentence and gapes at us.

"Sorry, dad. I'm new to this." I apologize and drag Bernard off the stage and down the hall to my room.

"This is new, but as long as you're here with me, I think I can manage." I say smiling at him.

"I'll always be here snowbird."

[randomwriteronline]

Nothing had worked in the end.

Linking hands, walking faster and faster, taking turns he'd long memorized, passing through clearings so quickly there was never any time for the illusions to start shaping themselves - everything, everything, he'd done everything right, with an iron grip around the younger hand, and still.

He turned in a panic as soon as he felt his empty palm being pierced by his own nails: a flash, bursts of colors between the leaves, and then everything that was not the green of foliage and the brown of ancient wood underneath moss and ivy was gone. His feet stumbled back, his eye jumping feverishly from one branch to the other, not even sure what he was looking for.

In a sudden second, he realized he had no idea which clearing this was, or which yawning dark hallway was the correct one.

The trees stared down at him.

"Oh no," Time only whispered feebly.

-

Whatever it was that was looking at him, it was quite the strange thing indeed.

It walked over to him unafraid, curious, rather puzzled to be quite honest, and stared up at his face intently as though to decode a most mysterious mystery.

"Hello," Hyrule greeted it.

It sniffed the air with its little snout intently; then, showing off its little pointy teeth, it simply asked: "What are you?"

Not very polite, but you cannot ask forest dwellers to have manners.

"My name is Link."

"You can't be Link," the little beast replied: "Link's not a fairy."

What a puzzling answer: "I'm not a fairy either."

"But you smell like one."

At that, Hyrule propped his hands on his hips: "Well, that's strange," he noted.

"It is!" the little one agreed.

"But my name is Link."

"No, it can't be."

"And why is that?"

"Because Link is my friend, and you don't look or smell like him."

"I see. You can call me Link, too, if you'd like. People call me like that."

"People are wrong."

"Is there only one Link in the world?"

"There's only one that matters to me, and it's my friend."

"So nobody else can have that name?"

"Not to me, no."

"Well, I'd still like it to be called Link every now and then."

"Then I guess I'll do that sometimes."

"And who are you?"

"Skull Kid."

"It's nice to meet you."

A sharp smile lit up the little snout, and the small feathers on its arms poofed and shook as it giggled happily.

"Nobody ever says it's nice to meet me," it said.

"How rude," Hyrule replied. As the beast laughed, he looked around, half hoping that the others would have returned to him by now; when it became clear they had not, and judging by the silence they were nowhere near him, he turned back to the creature: "Do you live here?"

"I do," Skull Kid nodded.

"Do you know the way out?"

"There's none."

He hummed: "Then do you know a way that takes me somewhere other than these woods?"

The impish thing laughed and clapped its clawed hands, overwhelmed with merriment: "You're clever, you're clever!" it praised the hero: "You're really clever, so I'll tell you! Yes, yes there is."

Hyrule watched as it pointed right in front of him, to a yawning abyss within a falled trunk that suddenly turned bright with dim light.

"Go straight on," it instructed him, "No turns or nothing. When you're done being in the Woods, then you'll come out."

"How do I know when I'm done?"

"When you don't want to be in the Woods anymore."

"Oh! I see, I see. Then it might take a while."

"Why so?"

"I was with friends, and they got lost too."

"Oh! Then they're not here anymore, not as they were."

"That's a bit pessimistic. They're brave and strong, and they're all called Link, too."

At that, the creature turned attentive: "All of them?"

"All of them."

"And is one of them my friend?"

"Perhaps one of them is."

"Oh! Oh! Then I'll get them back to you, if you let me and my friend stay here a while!"

"That depends," Hyrule replied, thoughtful: "How long is a while?"

"You don't need to worry about that."

"I would like not to, but we should go soon..."

"You don't need to worry about that!" Skull Kid insisted. "The Woods will make it last little, even if we stay together for days. I miss him a lot, you see... Then I'll give him back to you. I promise."

What a curious place this grove seemed to be.

In the end, Hyrule nodded: "Alright, you have my word."

"And you have mine!"

The little beast scurried off with a loud laugh, disappearing in an azure shadow; with nothing else to do but trust, the young man walked forth, just like he was told to do.

-

No sky above him, only leaves. Not even the Kikwi forest had been dense to the point of completely hiding the world within the clouds from his sight - and the rustling foliage moved by no wind made him more than a little nervous.

It seemed to be laughing, laughing gently, quietly, as he fruitlessly attempted to find a way through the way his senior had done.

Another arboreal murmuring was enough to test his patience.

"I'm trying," he complained to no one and nobody, "And none of you are being of any help, so please stop making fun of me."

"But it's fun," a voice replied.

Sky froze.

He looked left. He looked right. He spun in place.

Nobody.

His voice was much lower when he spoke again: "Hello?"

"Hello," no one replied.

His hand went to his sword: "Where are you?"

"Here," no one answered, unhelpfully. The childish sound seemed to come from everywhere around him.

"Here where?"

"I can see you," no one replied without acknowledging his question.

His head twisted in every direction, as quickly as possible.

Nobody.

A childish laughter filled the air.

"You're very funny," no one continued. "There's no way out, you know."

"And how are you sure?"

"Because I will eat you," no one explained, in a calm, airy tone, as though it was talking about the weather.

Sky froze again.

"You'll lose your skin soon," No One continued, the easy smile accompanying the voice almost visible, and the man was almost certain he could imagine his shapeless enemy kicking its feet with the whistful tranquillity of a child drawing pictures on the floor: "It'll fall off and melt into the earth, and I'll eat it. And then it will be the flesh, and then the eyes, and then all the gross things in your body - it'll all fall off onto the ground and I'll eat it."

"And my bones?" he asked, though he wasn't sure why or even if he wanted to know.

"Those will walk," No One replied. "Stalfos walk a lot. Until even your anger stops moving you, and then you'll crumble to the ground, and I'll eat your bones too."

"They will be sharp. And hard."

A crystalline child-like laugh was accompanied by the rustling of leaves. There was no breeze.

His interlocutor, then, was it...?

"Only thing I can't eat is rocks," No One said serenely: "Only thing that can kill me is fire. Are you tired yet? I'm hungry."

Sky remained perfectly still, terrified.

Nothing moved.

Suddenly, No One asked, in a different tone, as if it had remembered something only now: "Do people call you Link?"

What did it matter?

He nodded, agreeing feebly.

"Oh," No One said. It sounded disappointed. "Come here, then."

"Here where?" he dared to ask.

"Here," No One repeated. The voice was coming now from a darkened passage beneath two trees. Light that hadn't been there before was piercing through it. "Come here."

Slowly, terribly slowly, so slowly it felt like a whole day, Sky approached the passage.

Something gleamed from within.

Hyrule smiled at him as he too entered the clearing with a much more confident step when the knight finally passed through, the orange glint he thought he might have seen nowhere to be found.

"There you are," the traveler greeted him amiably, chipper, with the ease of someone taking a stroll.

Sky did not move.

They both waited a while.

"The Woods talked to me, I think," he murmured. "They said they were going to eat me."

Hyrule hummed thoughtfully.

"Let's find the others quickly, then," he only said.

His companion nodded, not in the mood to talk.

-

"Oh!"

Something rustled.

"It's you!"

Whatever it was, it sounded delighted. Sweet. Nostalgic.

Legend did not like that.

He walked faster. Had the clearing just gotten longer? Had the light dimmed on its own? Had the crowns of the trees lowered onto him? The air seemed heavier, harder to breathe in. The shrubbery seemed to be growing lusher and more suffocating. His eyes fought not to start watering. Cold sweat bubbled beneath his sleeves.

"You've grown so much!"

He turned quickly, hand on his sword.

The thing slowly coming closer was not scared. Not at all.

He could not tell what it was. Something about it reminded him of the Flute Boy, of his misshapen form in the Dark World, of the twists of the branches he'd petrified into; something about it reminded him of an animal, or a person, or a plant, or his uncle.

"Don't touch me," he growled.

The thing did not comply. Its gnarled hands laid on the blade's tip unafraid as it stared at him intently, facsimile of a face unmoving. Something about its stillness felt as though it was smiling at him radiantly.

"Hello," it said, with the love of a wetnurse. "It's been so long."

"I've never seen anything like you before," he hissed. He caught the sharp metal sinking ever so slightly into the neck as he thrusted it forward to scare it off of the weapon, and struggled to keep his hold still and firm.

The thing laughed gently: "Of course you have," it replied. Its hand reached up: "You were too little, maybe."

Legend shook his arm: the movement made it fall back a little as he took a step backwards.

"For what?"

"For remembering."

Were those leaves, on its face and limbs, arranged like feathers or fur shaping into colorful patterns? Were those eyes, or false spots on severed butterfly wings? Was there anything beneath the layers?

"I remember it," it reassured him sweetly; the sound of its childish voice, the way its face moved as it spoke to him without ever opening a mouth for the words to leave, frightened him more than anything else. "I remember it, if you don't. You are hard to forget, with how much you cried! Poor thing, how much you cried!"

Its gentle laugh chilled him.

A step back was met with a wall of bushes and ferns threatening to swallow him whole.

"But I kept you warm," it continued, so comforting, so horrifying as it advanced: "I kept you warm, and I did my best. I did my best. Even when that man came, I did my best. To keep him away."

Its hand mimed a slash far above its own head, a motion for striking something much taller, much bigger.

Their long nails sank through the air with a shriek.

Legend remembered his uncle's neck and the thin, long scars that reached far too close to his jugular for comfort.

It laughed again, sweet and kind, and reached for him as if to lift him from under his arms, in a way so unnatural for something so much smaller, so much younger than him.

"I'll keep you safe, I'll keep you safe," it reassured him. Empty wing-like eyes stared deep into him, hollow, perfectly still. "Now that you're back, I'll keep you safe."

He swung.

The sword cut through nothing, nothing at all.

He sunk further into the shrubbery, feet fumbling to keep him upright as the plantlife loomed all around him like a coddling embrace preceding a strangling; the thing, unharmed, so bright in its autumn hues against a world of green and misty blues, stretched out its arms and reached for him again.

"Don't touch me," he struggled to say, paler than the dead. Ivy kindly crawled at his feet. "Don't touch me. Don't - don't touch me."

"I'll keep you safe," it repeated. "I told them so, didn't I?"

"Them?" Legend rasped. "Them? Who?"

"Don't you remember? You were crying. You didn't like them. They were too cold." it stepped towards him, sharp nails reaching tenderly for his face, the yawning emptiness barely visible through gaps between the leaves trying to spiral him inside it with each word. "Far too cold."

The branches were enveloping him.

Softly, gently.

Like a parent's hold.

"I had to rip you from their arms."

He turned and ran.

He ran, and ran, and ran, far, far, far away, into the depths of the emerald foliage growing darker, darker, darker, not seeing anything beyond the sound of his own ragged breath trying to cover the call of his own name, too scared to notice that no briar or thorn ever lodged into his flesh, that the air was turning lighter, easier in his lungs, that the beams piercing the crowns high above him were brighter, that a soft strong body had stopped his maddened escape, that his shaking frame was held in hands scarred with lightning marks.

A sound like a familiar voice reached him, but he could not process words. He looked up: Sky's face replied with another preoccupied wave of gibberish.

"Go," Legend murmured finally: "Go. We need to go. Now. We need to. We need to go. Go. Now. Right now."

The other held him closer, letting him rest his head against him.

Hyrule said nothing; he gestured to follow, and walked a little faster.

-

The crowns were not rustling, nor was there any music.

He could still tell he wasn't alone.

"I'm not in the mood to play Tag," he said out loud, trampling gracelessly through ferns and rocks and fallen trees.

A tinkering laugh followed him.

"Then we'll play Hide-and-seek!" it cried out.

One of the lower branches ricocheted towards him; he stopped it without any effort: "Not in the mood for that either."

"One-two-three-Freeze? I'll start counting!"

His strong hand reached out with a sigh into the mass of leaves nearest to him, and without even needing to look as he stepped over another bush he gently pinched a lack of lips shut.

Twilight's head rose to find enormous cockeyed pupils mere inches away from his face.

"I said," he repeated, "I'm not in the mood to play games."

Little grey fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled it away to free their mouth: "You said only for Tag!" the doll protested.

"And now I'm not in the mood for any."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm in the mood to do something else."

"And what's that?"

"Getting out of here."

The kid huffed and whined: "You're no fun."

The man patted its ashen cheek with just enough force without turning it into a slap and smiled with a grin holding the slightest glint of mischief: "You didn't know that already?"

A disgusting bark-looking tongue stuck out to him between small distant teeth. Seeing it so close would have probably made him gag in disgust, together with the rest of its mangy decaying appearance, if he hadn't gotten used to that too wide grin by now.

"Why did you even come here then?" the creature asked.

"What makes you think I wanted to come?"

"Me?"

Twilight laughed wildly, right in its face: "Sure thing," he mocked him playfully, "Like I could really miss the noise of that terrible little trumpet of yours that much."

"Hey! I'm good at it!"

"Whatever you say, whatever you say."

He evaded a halfhearted slap with a laugh.

Emboldened, the little imp reached out to him, trying to jump on him, to steer him away into the foliage it was half hidden in, to drag him into some game or other.

The little hands found themselves easily neutralized, its empty body lifted; after a moment, it found itself sat on a different branch.

"Don't you try that now," the man admonished it: "I do need to go. I have some friends I need to pick up before they get trapped between some your illusory walls."

"Oh! Then they're not here anymore, not as they were."

A finger tapped on its forehead, producing a hollow sound: "Don't try to scare me," Twilight replied lazily: "You know it doesn't work."

"It's true!"

"Sure thing, sure thing."

The small doll shook its head to get rid of the nagging pressure; the rancher allowed it, retracting his hand.

"So?" he pressed on gently, "Will you help me this time too?"

Cockeyed pupils looked at him thoughtfully; then, without answering, the imp asked: "Do people call you Link?"

It got back a flabbergasted look.

"You didn't know?"

"You never told me!"

"I... Well, that's fair. Did you ever tell me yours?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Skull Kid."

"Nice to meet you. And yes, my name's Link."

"Then I saw your friend!" it grinned. One of its skeletal fingers pointed far away, to a hole just large enough to crawl through on all fours like a dog. "He's there. He's going outside."

Twilight followed the trajectory of their limb. He turned back to face the imp once more.

"There?" he asked, brow quirked.

It nodded.

"There."

It nodded again.

"Right under there."

"Yes!"

"You are sure."

"Yes!"

"He'll be right there?"

"Yes."

"It won't be one of your puppets?"

"No."

"And it won't be a heap of them?"

"No!"

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Double promise?"

"Yes!"

"Swear on your heart?"

"Yeees!"

"With a cherry on top?"

"I promise on my friend's life and on the Woods' health!"

Twilight gave a wolfish grin: "So you're sure?"

The kid smacked his head repeatedly, overwhelmed with childish fury and cackling uncontrollably as it shouted: "Just get out!"

The rest was swift: in a second, the rancher dropped on all fours, galloping like a dog right into the dark tunnel with a wild howling laugh; his run halted midway as he struck something and stumbled, throwing him into a roll just as he emerged, all but splaying himself at Hyrule, Sky, and Legend's feet.

Always nice to know that pipsqueak didn't lie.

-

"Wait-"

It hurt like hell.

"Wait, please. Wait."

Another sting in his shoulder, more blood pouring through.

"Wait. Please."

His hand trembled as he held it out in surrender for all the trees to see. He looked for the telltale gleam of little oranges eyes, listened for the familiar clatter of wooden limbs; nothing.

Perfectly hidden.

It made his heart clench like his lungs did when he tried not to cry.

He unfastened his shield and sword, letting them clang on the ground harmlessly.

"I will lay down," he said meekly, lowering his body with slow, careful motions, making sure he did not make any rash movements. "I will lay down, and not move. I promise."

No answer came.

"I only ask," and he struggled through a knot in his throat "I only ask you wait until I stop breathing on my own. Please."

He lied down, quietly, and closed his eye.

Blood trickled out of the wounds puncturing his shoulder; pinky outstretched, waiting for the comfort of a promise that he never got, Time began slowly counting his breaths.

Before long, he stopped.

-

He shouldn't have gotten distracted. He shouldn't have let go of him like that. He should have been more attentive of where he was going. He shouldn't have lost sight of the others.

He had to stop! What good would come from this pointless spiraling? He'd messed up; he'd handle the consequences.

His feet hurt like hell. He sat down heavily, trying to massage them through his own boots.

Some kind of scuttling interrupted his thoughts.

From the top of a tree, blending into the darkened bark, minute amber marbles were staring right at him.

Four remained still.

His adversary, too, did not move.

In the minutes following their utter stillness, his eyes acclimated to the dim atmospheres - only barely, but just enough to notice something wiry and strangely posed clutching on the bark.

He watched it move with an inexplicable tardiness, accompanied by a twin which had suddenly emerged from the shadows as they both dragged the shining marbles lower across the trunk of the tree with it, descending with a cautious rhythm.

That was a hand.

Or at least, something which worked as a hand.

The more he stared, trying to make sense of what it was supposed to be, the more he grew convinced it was closer to a bird's foot.

And the more he stared, the lower down the trunk the thing went, until all four of its thin limbs were all but sprawled across the large centenary roots; and from those roots those branch-like arms and legs were slithering towards the ground, sinking their talons in the dirt as it crawled towards him.

He needed to get up.

He needed to get his sword.

He needed to start screaming.

He needed to start making a plan.

He did not manage to move a single muscle.

Perhaps it was for the better. Because while his brain was busy screaming and scrambling, trying to tear his body apart to scatter in four different directions, his eyes remained fixed on the strange beast reaching towards him at a snail's pace, and the familiar jangling sound coming from the misshapen patches of bright color around its neck and wrists snapped at least one of his scattering trains of thought back to reality.

His hand shot forward: "Wait."

Did he seriously think that would work?

The thing stopped.

Huh.

Well.

He grabbed a bag hanging loose from his belt. He did not need to tear his eyes off the dark sharp beak pointed right at his face, long and with a thin tip that reminded him of a knife; his fingers swept across the broken pieces until he recognized the shape of the one he was looking for.

The round head perked slightly at the sight of the red half as it was lifted triumphantly before its beady eyes.

With the creaking sound of badly oiled wooden hinges the thing approached on all of its four wire thin limbs, its previous menacing countenance completely gone from its step.

It lifted a hand: a red shard dangled from it.

The kinstone pieces fit perfectly.

Four looked as the beast shook its strange taloned palm to make the little charm dance. Though its expression had not changed due with its limited facial features, he could read in their pose an frendlier, more relaxed disposition.

"I have others," he said, catching its attention, "For those two you have -- hold on..."

It was child's play to find them now that he was sure shifting his attention from the weird creature wouldn't result in mortal peril. The halves slotted together perfectly with those already dotting its form in handmade jewelery pieces, and before either of them knew it they were all complete, jangling with mirth as the wiry thing joyously rattled its too thin body.

Something good might happen.

And to his surprise, the beast turned to him, opened its sharp beak, and asked with the tone of a little kid: "Do they call you Link?"

Four blinked.

"Yes," he replied after a moment of arguing with himself. "They do."

The little thing clapped, the three talons on each hand making the strangest noise as they collided: "Then your friend is waiting there," it informed him; and one of its fingers pointed a few feet away, where a corridor passed through a tree much like a lethal wound.

"Oh," he noted. "Thank you."

Had it been there before?

Had it opened just now?

He spared another glance at the strange creature: it was tracing the completed blue kinstone with one talon, curiously.

It did not even look at him as he very cautiously stood up.

When Four looked back before passing through, it was happily dangling the medallions from its wiry frame. It turned to him; with a stare that could have almost been described as a smile (no way to see the curve of its lips with such a long beak) it waved at him.

He waved back.

He took another step.

The piece of forest he'd just been in vanished without a trace beneath a suddenly oppressive shadow.

Then Four spotted Hyrule, Sky, a slightly frazzled Legend and a noticeably at ease Twilight come in from another end of the meadow, and allowed himself to give a sigh of relief.

-

He did not remember there being so many puddles in the woods a few meters back, and he could confidently say he was more than fairly certain about this because a few meters back, before he suddenly lost sight of his companions, the mere act of walking had not been an absolute nightmare.

Now the ground had turned marshy, unstable, and he had to watch his feet carefully before he accidentally stepped into a hole too deep and got swallowed whole by the strange smelling water.

Making sure the patch he was standing on was solid enough, he dared to look around: no sign of the others.

Hopefully they would at least give out a loud splash if they fell into one of the puddles, he reasoned gloomily. It would have at least been a little funny.

A different sound caught his attention - what was that? Music? What kind? And what instrument? It seemed garbled, sputtering, as if part of it were underwater. The more he turned to find its source, the more the direction from which it seemed to come eluded him.

Maybe he should have retraced his path...

He raised a foot, took a step.

Then his other ankle was yanked back as he began to lift it, and in a second the water greeted his face with a hard, sickening squelch.

A mouthful of bog water choked his breath suddenly. His hands, pressing on the weakened ground to push him back out of the muddy prison he'd fallen into, caused instead the patches of land to sink further down, taking him with them.

Something viscous climbed up his calf.

Maybe, an older hero would have replied differently, more properly, in a true heroic fashion; but Wind was a young hero, and he had every reason to stamp his boot on the nose whatever was holding him back, and so he did just that.

The contact came with a hissing ouch, and with the sickening crunch of broken bones.

His face reemerged as he finally rolled himself off the malleable ground, back hitting it hard while he tried scramble to his feet and only managed to sit on a more solid portion of the swamp.

He'd seen eyes like that only on squids.

He'd seen pupils like that - thin, vertical, zigzagging - only on squids.

Squids did not have webbed hands with fingers like a frog's, long human nails sticking out of them.

Squids did not have round heads, lily pads seated upon seaweeds draped over it like strands of chitinous hair.

Squids did not rub their concave cheek and pull it back out with a horrid cacophony of cracks and crackles and creaks.

Squids did focus their empty gaze on him, cockeyed and shining with the gleam of water still covering their gelatinous skin after they'd emerged; but not like that.

Before he could shake himself out of the shock enough to pull himself back, the thing had slipped out of the bog to crawl onto the unsteady ground, onto the moss, onto him until its nearly transparent face covered in minuscule root-like veins was all but touching his, so light that if it hadn't been dripping swamp water all over him he might have not felt its limbs pressing on him.

He could not feel its breath on him. He wasn't keen on checking its chest to see if it moved at all.

It did not seem to share that sentiment.

Its hand grabbed his neck, not squeezing - but holding steadily, tilting his head left and right as though to better inspect him, sinking its slimy digits into his skin roughened by the sea salt.

Wind watched as its thin lips parted with a long whistle, an almost hypnotic sound.

"Oh," it sang - it sang, sweetly, with a melodious tone both high and low at the same time, bewitching and impossibly different from any sound he'd ever heard, like the song of a lonely whale - disappointed: "You're not him."

Him?

It shifted his head up and down again.

Its grip was gentle.

Longing, almost.

A fingertip brushed the corner of his mouth.

"You looked like him a lot," it commented sadly.

Him?

"Do they call you Link?"

Wind stared into the thin, long pupils.

He wasn't sure if he nodded; he couldn't really feel his body at the moment, pinned down by the dripping water and the stare like that.

He must have, though.

A lipless mouth opened over rows of baleen plates divided by an inky black gap with a grin.

The sight stunned him.

Then he felt a push, a pressure on his clavicles.

And then he was shoved in the water, with barely any time to catch a single breath.

His hands squeezed the creature's wrists so tight he snapped the stick-like bones within - which would have horrified him, certainly, if he hadn't been struggling not to gulp bog water into his lungs despite how terribly they burned - trying in vain to have it let go of him as he kicked aimlessly, as hard as he could; shattered wrists or not, the beast pushed him deeper into the swamp without relenting for even a single second.

Wind could swear he had heard a whistle, a song of sorts -- something akin to a laugh at the sight of his struggles.

Air hit his face with such force that he almost bruised.

The stars seemed to pulsate in strange, concentric patterns before his eyes. Once the shock subsided and the dull, spread out pain on his nape cleared his vision from the dizzyness, he found himself on the ground, looking at the far away crowns of trees.

Sopping wet, no doubt reeking, breathing raggedly, legs still halfway in the water.

He scrambled away from the shallow backwater pool; he barely managed to see something sink back into it before the stagnating pond returned perfectly still.

Somebody whistled.

"What on Earth happened to you?" Twilight's voice reached him as though obstructed by cotton: "Did you roll into a puddle?"

He blinked; he turned, dazed eyes passing over visages he vaguely recognized as Four's, Legend's, and Sky's without properly seeing them, before looking back at the small lake before him.

There was nothing.

Barely a darkened splash of water left over by a meek rain.

"It-" he started: "I- it, there - a swamp, I was, the - it - sang in - the, where did-"

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his stupor slightly. Hyrule looked over his eyes, pulling his wet hair out of them, to check for anything out of the ordinary; despite the shortness of breath and mildly dilated pupils, the younger hero seemed fine.

"I think this place is getting to us," Sky mumbled.

Next to him, Legend leaned a little closer and nodded.

Wind did not reply as he was pulled back to his feet by Four and Twilight, but he was inclined to agree.

-

The fog was far from new, by all means.

The trees that didn't look like they were going to swallow you whole were, but that was a frankly welcome change.

No, the biggest problem, the thing that had him most uneasy, was the hint of sound.

It was faint, and far away, and eerily quiet.

It seemed familiar, but not enough.

Of course, he moved towards it.

It never seemed to grow stronger, no matter how much he walked. It remained quiet, barely audible, but at the same time he could tell he was making progress: with each step, despite the cold damp air seeping into his bones, he felt closer and closer to the source.

A tree remained on the ground, uprooted. It must have been large, infinitely so, once, but its branches were nowhere to be seen and most of it was missing; its sorrounding bretheren had long wrapped the coils of their roots around it, corroding entire chunks of the bark to tear holes in the trunk as though they were cannibal beasts devouring a fallen former friend without remorse, biting into the ancient corpse with their enormous teeth and agonizing tardiness. It would have been a cruel fate, had they been animals; he wasn't sure it couldn't be considered one for a tree, either.

The sound waned around the dead rotten roots. He thought he saw them twitching as he passed them.

A scarecrow hid with them.

At least, he thought it was a scarecrow.

It was certainly poorly made, probably a kid's idea of one. What should have been its forearms were hanging limply from the moldy stake piercing through the cloth of its shirt, undetermined stuffing spilling from the holes and ripped fabric; around the height of what was supposed to be its knees there was a tight knot tying a flaccid looking leg to the one stuck in the cross-shaped structure's body, giving the limbs the shape of a very badly drawn 4. It lacked anything resembling hands or feet, and the patches upon a variety of tears had been sewn hazardly, with no rhyme or reason, letting more of whatever it was that stuffed it escape.

Its half shredded hat was perched upon nothing.

He stared at the black hole where a head would have sat. A pair of dull lights stared back.

They blinked.

He had the feeling that the roots were slowly closing behind him.

"Hello," he whispered.

The scarecrow stared.

He could hear them now.

A disgusting sound of rot latching onto rot.

He wasn't sure he could move.

The scarecrow stared.

Hadn't he seen it once?

A long time ago.

The air smelled sweet. He remembered it from the hunting huts he'd found, like the old man's.

It was the smell of putrefaction.

The scarecrow stared.

So the tree wasn't dead yet.

So it was being eaten alive.

He could hear the healthier roots of its loveless siblings wrap tighter around the decrepit trunk. He could feel them around his chest, like gaping maws so slowly shutting around him.

He could feel their lack of remorse, their lack of guilt.

He could feel the tree's lack of anger. Of pain.

Had one of them fallen instead, they would have eaten him all the same. Ripped it from this body. Had it become another.

Tree or grass or shrub or mushroom or moss, you will stay.

That is the way things are.

He could feel himself being eaten.

"Do they call you Link?" the scarecrow asked.

Its voice was like very fine glass breaking.

He nodded slowly.

The scarecrow turned; its lip forearm jumped up, pointing deeper into the enormous nearly hollow trunk.

He looked into the dark.

The roots that were clinging to his hair, his ears, his skin clattered to the ground as he moved forward, their rotten tissue not managing to hold onto him and breaking uselessly.

He walked into the dark.

He walked, and walked, and walked.

A hint of sound grew weaker behind him.

And then there was light.

As well as Sky, Legend, Wind, Four, Hyrule, and Twilight.

Oh.

Nice.

Four looked to the side, glancing to the three more dazed components of their group before turning back to the one who had just come out of the shade: "How are you feeling, champ?" he asked, just to make sure.

Wild looked at him as though he could see his brain.

"Fine, I think." he replied in a strange tone.

Hyrule patted his arm half-heartedly: "That's good to hear," he just said as he dragged him along.

-

The clattering sound made his muscles seize and freeze.

The laugh that came after it didn't help.

Breathe, he forced himself to think. Breathe. It had worked before, when he was too small and scared to do anything; it would work now, that he knew better, that he was stronger.

He tried to keep on walking; he failed.

Breathe.

"You won't even say hi?"

From the darkness of his eyelids his traitorous pupils conjured a sickly ivory face. He did not look.

Another laugh shattering on the ground like porcelain cups from which poison has been drunk: "How rude, how rude! We've been friends so long and you won't even look at me!"

If he hadn't burned every lesson his grandmother had given him into his brain so thoroughly that nothing could have ever ripped them from his memory, he would have snapped at it that they'd never been friends, that he'd never dream of being associated with something as horrible as that creature in any way, let alone as a friend.

But that is not how one speaks to a woodland dweller if they want to escape the encounter with their life.

Something rested on his shoulder. He felt it slink behind his nape like a cat, sinking claws into his other arm; its scent of mud and sage and dried blood would have overwhelmed him if it hadn't been so disgustingly familiar to him.

"Come on," it laughed: "Don't be mean."

Breathe.

The sickening smell tried to choke him.

"Leave me be, please," he murmured.

Another laugh: "No can do, no can do! Not until you look at me."

Breathe.

He opened his eyes.

The ghastly grin of sharpened teeth met his gaze.

He watched them open slightly, clacking with a bony sound at every syllable and appearing to lunge for him; the childish voice carressed his cheeks like a cold pane of ice: "There you are!"

From the empty bone sockets gleamed small orange irises.

The vertebrae of the neck were craned terribly, barely connected to one another. Cloth hanged from them, from empty spaces where the clavicles should have connected to the shoulders, from the floating forms of the humeruses, in the vaguest shape of a shirt, a tunic, something to cover up the fearful mystery underneath, to hide its madness-inducing emptiness from the eyes of the living.

The dead and dying had worse problems.

"It's been a while," the spirit clattered jovially as it moved its head even closer to his face.

"It has." he replied curtly.

A sharp phalanx poked the underside of his chin, almost prickling the skin enough to draw blood, and lifted it slightly to better inspect him. Its wispy laugh made his skin crawl with a shiver.

"You get longer every time I see you!"

He hated the familiarity in its voice. He hated that it spoke to him like a younger sibling, like a childhood friend, when he'd seen it picking at the bodies of soldiers fallen in Faron Woods like they hadn't been fighting for their lives just seconds earlier, their muscles and marrow disappearing with horrid squelches within the sharp rows of teeth before dropping, in a putrid mess of chewed gore, into the depths of that unknowable body.

Like it hadn't cornered him to feast on him when he'd been just a kid who had strayed from the path and gotten too lost to go back whence he came, saved only by his grandomther's advice.

Like it hadn't been haunting their home since, making him run away before it could get his cousin too.

He stared forward, trying to to ignore its cold breath on his skin.

"I can't stay." he muttered.

"Why not?" it protested; its claws sank in his shoulder, but he did not hiss. "It's been so long, so long! Let's play something, like back then! Do you remember, back then? When we played Question-And-Answer, and you always answered funny?"

"I did." he replied. He wasn't keen on thinking of his brushes with a fate worse than death - no matter how much fun it had been for them to watch him squirm.

The little body shook with a cacophony of bone against bone as it laughed loudly, delightedly: "I bet you still do that! I bet you do!"

It crawled on him too fast for him not to recoil; in a moment, his face was held in those sharp ivory hands, kept still right before that ghastly grin, those empty sockets from which gleamed small amber irises far, far into the darkness.

"Let's play again," it hissed, "Let's have fun again. It's been long."

"I can't stay."

"Why not? Why not? You keep avoiding me these days. You keep avoiding me and never want to play. Now you're here, you're here! And I want to play."

'These days' had been years.

"There are other friends." he replied. "I need to see them."

A glint of interest traversed the minuscule pupils likea lightning strike: "Other friends?" it asked.

Warriors bit his tongue. He regretted to have mentioned them already, to have dragged them into this without them even knowing; but it's never a good idea to eat the words given to a woodland dweller: "Yes."

The corners of its bony grin curled even more, widening it so much it seemed to split the skull in half.

"Other friends," it repeated, tilting its head. The strands of dead skin clinging still to the cranium like the parody of hylian ears tilted with it. "Other friends."

"Yes."

It chuckled without opening its jaws, with a guttural sound; its body rattled ominously, and he felt its shadow melt over him like a cascade of too thick icy water: "Other friends," it said once more; it began nodding, once, twice, thrice: "I see, I see. Other friends, I see! I can send you to them, I can, I can."

Hopefully, if he played his cards right, he could manage to be the sole recipient of any mauling, bloodied revenge its jealousy would unleash: "You would?"

"I can, I will!" it assured him. Its rough fingers traced along his jaw: "But I need a thing."

Of course. Warriors braced himself: "I'll see if I have it."

"Of course you do, of course! You know what it is," the dweller laughed: "You never want to give it to me."

The captain's blood froze in his veins.

No. No, no, no, no, absolutely not, no way - he couldn't, he could have never accepted, especially now, especially while looking for the others. To give it that power over himself was dangerous enough, but to allow it to have such influence over the rest of the heroes as well? While they were none the wiser? To simply hand their lives and bodies and souls over like that?

He'd learned to read the emptyness in its smile for the correct answer, and he knew it wouldn't have accepted a no, nor would any other offering have satisfied it.

Either he gave it power over nine lives, or they all got swallowed by the forest and got their bones picked clean by those teeth.

Warriors swallowed.

With a fate like his, it wasn't like he'd ever had agency to begin with.

"I only have one." his voice strained as he finally spoke.

"Is it yours?"

"Only mine."

It grinned wider. Its hand inched dangerously closer to his mouth, as though to claw the word out of it itself: "And it is?"

Hopefully it would work.

"Link."

The beast laughed.

Before he could fully feel himself as a living breathing creature again, he was walking into a darkened portal as fast as he could, followed only by the echo of a rattling childish voice.

"Next time we'll play! Next time!"

Next time, hopefully, would be never.

Somebody was talking now, in this patch of woodsthat felt so abnormally normal, saying he was fine, that there was nothing to worry about regarding him, that they should have hurried anyway; you never knew what could be hiding around.

It took him a moment to recognize who the voice was talking to. He had been so caught up in escaping his childhood tormentor, he'd barely realized the entire Chain save from Time was here.

It took him another, longer moment to realize that the voice had come from himself.

Once the others weren't looking, he clenched his every muscle for a few seconds, tensing his entire body to the point where he started trembling from the strain, and released. He moved his hands carefully, in nonsensical yet complex patterns: no hindrance. No thoughts different from his own.

So far, he was still in control of himself.

He hurried his gait. He wasn't too excited about waiting around to see what happened once that thing decided to start toying with him.

-

Time was awoken by worried voices.

His eye cracked open: half a dozen faces leaned over him, asking him all at once how he was feeling, what had happened, who had attacked him, telling him about confused encounters he couldn't keep track of. A pair of hands was checking his head for any concussions, another was assessing the damage to his arm and closing the punctures before even more blood could pour through; a final pair was slowly dispersing the younger heroes fussing around him, to give him space, to let him breathe.

Four and Warriors helped him sit up.

"Was it an ambush?" Wind's voice reached his ears.

He couldn't stop himself from nodding in reflex: "Nothing to be worried about," he reassured them, his throat dry and hoarse: "Just... It was just a mistake."

He was sustained to his feet, helf fast by younger arms until he was stable enough to have his sword and shield handed back to him.

Questions muddled around his ears as they walked slowly, urgently, into the sylvan tunnel that would have led them outside of that infernal labyrinth.

"No," he answered them all quietly, very quietly: "No, nothing to be worried about. Saw an old friend, is all."

He swallowed a knot in his throat.

"He just has a hard time recognizing me these days."

('These days' had been years.)