#also implanted into my psyche that my voice is wrong)

[large-penises-sporting-goods]

Next time a customer asks me where I'm from (with the unsubtle implication that I have an unplaceable accent) I'm saying the truth which is "I'm a local, I just talk strangely because I'm autistic"

[grislyintentions]

|| HC - Skill Interruption ||

As mentioned in my previous hcs about Kafka, her use of Spirit Whisper is a procedure that takes time to balance as the human psyche is delicate.

Typically, she has no qualms with forcibly overriding the senses of opponents she's going to kill off immediately. But in areas that require implanting keywords or elaborate actions like aiding Blade with suppressing his mara, she needs to be able to focus.

Interrupting her in any way during the process is not ideal. If any step of the implanting goes wrong, it can result in the person she's using her Spirit Whisper to be locked in (a state of being conscious but unable to move, speak or eat. Basically trapped in their body.)

All while their own biological responses register panic, fear and anxiety in being stuck for an indefinite period of time. Instead of gradually easing, it continues to build. Eventually, they will lose consciousness, begin experiencing vivid nightmarish illusions and eventually die from fear itself via the heart giving out.

It is an immensely painful torturous death and they would have been better off killed by her instead from the get go.

(Also loose theory that the reason her spirit Whisper works on mara and how Blade mentions it almost feels like even the mara listens to her voice is due to the fact that 'mara' is parasitic in nature- in the same way how certain fungi have spores that take over faculties of ants and compel them to die in a way that helps spread their spores further. This is formed with reference to the symbolism behind comparisons of fruit and flesh of Emanators in Yaoshi's path).

[exxay]

Spoiler Alert, Ptilopsis' voice in her head is a lot more deadlier than we thought

With the release of the Operator Modules, HG has taken a very interesting decision into how they want to incorporate them.

And of course, just like OD, they decided to fucking kill it.

Currently, we only have a translation of Ptilopsis' module, and holy hell there's a lot to dig into, so let's start sentence by sentence:

"If Originium really has the power to store information, then we can decrypt and translate, the whole Columbian scientific technique will soar again!"

"I reached a bottleneck. The current electronic calculation facilities are insufficient to deal with the complex amount of signals from Originium. I need a more suitable calculation device."

So basically, it all started with a researcher's revelation in that-an originium shard can act as a goddamn rtx3090+corsair memory module on steroids. And with it, send Columbia into a technological revolution. Except, they're trying to fit into a 16-bit cpu. So they needed a better one.

"Using humans to calculate?! This is a daring thought, I... need to consider the feasibility."

Love how instead of commenting on it's ethicality, the first thing they think of is "Can it work?", Just a small reminder of how inhumane Rhine Labs are.

"The creation of a human decryption system model has been completed. Now, we need an experimental subject with clear thought and quick reflexes. Best to have good understanding of calculators and data."

So the PC is built, now they just need a case for it, and it had to be a really good one to, they don't wanna waste it.

"The candidate has been selected. Experiment subject codename: Ptilopsis."

And lo and behold, why not choose the living computer herself?

"There is nobody else more suitable than her in the whole Rhine. Although the head suggested to conceal the experimental risks, but I still let her know about the various possibilities of the experiment. This is my duty as a citizen of Columbia, and as a person."

Showing just how amazing Ptilopsis, alongside another reminder of Rhine Labs' way of doing things. Don't let the little text about the person asking for their consent, if MuMu has shown us anything, for all we know Ptilopsis could have been "Convinced"/ But that's probably just an assumption, she could have very well thought that it was for the best.

"She agreed. She agreed! I just know, I just know she would agree! I didn't choose the wrong person!"

Then again, who really knows?

"The preliminary main points and operation procedure has been taught. She learns quickly. Tomorrow, the experiment will begin. I believe that we can embrace Columbia's future with open arms!"

"The experiment was very successful. Various data are within the controlled boundaries. As long as this pace is followed, a little, a little... No, no no no, it shouldn't be! Quick, quickly shut it down--"

Honestly, were we expecting anything less? Experiment was going amazingly right, until everything went horribly wrong.

"Emergency measures have been activated in time, but she still... received injury. The brain..."

And so comes into play, "The voice", more details further in.

"And Oripathy..."

No shit, infused originium shards? Didn't they learn from Ifrit? Or maybe, Ptilopsis came BEFORE Ifrit? Hmm, so many revelations.

"(Intermittent crying sounds)"

No idea whose these are, but most likely? It could be Ptilopsis herself, or maybe the researcher, they seemed to have more morals than we thought.

"The higher-up has already requested for resuscitation. But, but like this..."

Wait? Resuscitation? Holy shit did they send her into Clinical Death? Holy fuck. And what's with the hesitation? Was she gonna be even deader?

"It's my fault, it's all my fault..."

Yup, more morals than usual.

"According to the message that she received before, I made a chip that can be inserted into the human body. This thing should be able to replace some of the functions of her brain."

Ok wow, so, Ptilopsis, already knowing shit was gonna fuck up somehow (Thanks' Milo), asked to make a backup chip than be inserted to the human body. So that she'll still pull through, pretty hardcore.

Wait? Like the promotion chips? Does that mean the promotion chips are inserted into the operators we use? Or are they different chips?

"Some department heads laud this idea a lot, hmm, I know what they are thinking."

Oh, so if I'm interpreting this right, some -not all- of the heads in Rhine were against this, but obviously, not because of anything ethical mind you.

"The implantation worked. She had no reaction."

"She woke up! But some problems occurred... in her language abilities."

"Error Hase"

"She tells me, there is another voice in her mind. A voice that does not belong in the boundary of known language. This thing will put a heavy burden on her psyche."

"The pain can only be reduced by using a robotic language system."

Ahhh, the voice, just like how Ifrit has a "voice" in her head constantly arguing and vying control. But we all know that it isn't just a voice, it's a literal fucking ENTITY, so does that mean Ptilopsis also has her own entity she constantly holds back? And just like what she tells us in her third trust line.

According to Ptilopsis "It is, in fact, quite burdensome to speak in this manner. But this is a necessary measure to prevent the system nexus from being devoured by that other voice. Doctor, if I become rampant, please guide me back onto the right path."

Love how it shed's more light onto such a mysterious habit that i wanted to know of.

"She is the first living person in Columbia with an implanted chip. This is an achievement."

"But to her, the land is no longer the same."

Sad for Ptilopsis, she can't look at anything the same anymore, though overall this sheds some more light on her relationship with Silence. More at the end.

Wait a minute-

"I also implanted a chip in my brain. Now the wound still hurts a little. But I want to know, what change did the information from Originium bring to her."

Oh, oh no.

"That voice, what is it?"

OH NO

"I will repeat the experiment." --Rhine Lab, Unknown project leader, recorded.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOO

Unknown Researcher whyyyyy, you were so close, you were so close to greatness!!!!

Anyways, "repeat" would imply that Ptilopsis is actually the original subject, meaning she was the first to be implanted with artificial originium shards, and sub sequentially, artificially infected.

This could also mean that Silence learns about Ifrit's existence through Ptilopsis, and then leading to the "Flame Demon Incident".

Ptilopsis considers Silence her closest friend and Savior, in fact, even being more than willing to participate in a "Secret Project" of hers, which she SHOULD be reporting to the higher ups instead. It could still be her being a bit rebellious instead of being close friends, but as she said.

"I met Dr. Silence at Rhine Lab. I provided big data analysis and risk evaluation for her on a secret project."

Hmm, more to think about.

Speaking of, whenever we think of the "Flame Demon Incident" we think of Saria, Silence and Ifrit, but what about Ptilopsis? Silence would have probably learned about it on her own since she was helping oversee the project, but how would she learn of the, ehem, "Less well known aspects." Though that's just speculation on my part

So much to think about, what about you? What do you think about it?

Personally? Call McDonalds cuz I'm McFUCKING LOVE IT

[anthropologicalhands]

1, 4, 7, 19!

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

*eyes evergrowing list of yyh fic* 

I have a lot of projects right now, so here are three big ones at various stages of completion:

[CEG] Telepathy AU - ...okay, I feel bad about this one. The basic premise is that instead of pushing her wedding to Josh Chan up, Rebecca signs them up to get telepathic implants. Except something goes wrong, and she winds up mentally connected to Nathaniel, while Josh has vanished without explanation. The rough draft has been done since last year, but it’s both one of the longest fics I’ve written and the most ‘how do I take liberties in an interesting way and still get to be self-indulgent’ trouble that I’ve had. I love the challenge of creating mental landscapes for both Rebecca and Nathaniel, and how they interact, and how it works with Rebecca’s mind songs. At the same time, I might have psyched myself out, and am terrified of expectations.

[YYH] Kurama-as-Mukuro’s-Guest fic - Mukuro invites Kurama to stay as a guest in her fortress and conversations ensure! There is barely any fic about Mukuro interacting with Hiei’s friends, and while I like many of the one-off scenes I find in KuraHi fics, I’d love to see them interact more. I think that they would have a lot of interesting things to say to each other, since they are of a similar age and have both remade themselves in different ways. Plus, a chance to dig into the Mukuro-Hiei-Kurama dynamic that exists in my brain and how it works. I also just really enjoy writing Mukuro’s voice, and creating a dynamic that feels balanced, and not just ‘Mukuro supporting their relationship’. I have the first rough draft completed, but it’s definitely going to take a couple of passes to complete.

[YYH] Mystery of Shuuichi Minamino fic - This fic follows an OC detective hired by Shiori Minamino to investigate her son’s disappearance post-series, and how it ties with the Makai barrier about to go back up. This fic is still in the outline stage, but I’m really excited to really dig into it. I really love my OC and how she fits into the world, and the challenge of trying to put together a mystery and look at my favorite characters from an outsider’s perspective. It’s going to be very different from anything I’ve ever tried before.

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Greg Serrano has Rebecca scratched across his palm, stretching over his lifeline in an exaggerated arc. Even holding up a hand in greeting leaves him self-conscious, like he’s putting his feelings on full display. It becomes a habit to keep his hands full or his fingers curled up into a fist, to maintain some kind of protection.

Even after they get together, he cannot work up the courage to tell her how she has marked him, why his hands are so warm every time she touches him.

Instead, he keeps a glass in his hand and keeps them coming, desperate to avoid the moment where she will turn away from him, should he reach out to her.

One DUI and a month in recovery later, his hands are open, but the realization is bittersweet, for he also knows that he cannot hold her again.

~from every body is a ledger [CEG]

I’m proud of my soulmark AU in general, but I really love Greg’s section because I think it really, really captures his fears with Rebecca in a succinct, powerful way that ties in with his alcoholism and insecurity. I think the imagery just works, and it was a late addition, so I’m still pleased with it.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

I feel like my writing style can be best described as conversational, though occasionally veering into a more fairy-tale non-specific narrator-type thing. Narration is a little distanced, details are lightly sketched. A little oblique.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

I tend to talk around the characters’ true thoughts and feelings by describing what they are not. There isn’t that much kissing, despite what I like to read. There’s usually some bad wordplay that is funny only to me. I usually work within canon and justify details I don’t like. I also really love playing with the idea of people having a type of person they are strongly attracted to, even if it is not immediately clear, or if externally, they don’t seem to have anything in common (see: Valencia being attracted to both Josh + Beth, or Hiei with Mukuro + Kurama).

[theowlsarequeer]

Reblog to tell your followers the entirety of Be More Chill (more musicals to come)

Jeremy Heere, a high school junior, is a social outcast. He lives with his recently divorced father, who works from home and makes Jeremy uncomfortable by refusing to wear pants in the house. At school, Jeremy is bullied by popular student Rich Goranski, who writes "boyf" on his backpack. His "best friend", Michael Mell (on whose backpack Rich has written "riends"), tries to comfort Jeremy by telling him that being a loser is okay. Jeremy's long-time crush Christine Canigula signs up for the school play, and he decides to as well. Jeremy wonders if someone can help him "more than survive" ("More Than Survive").

As they wait for the first play rehearsal to begin, Christine professes her love of theater to Jeremy, because she can play different people and always knows what to say and performs ("I Love Play Rehearsal"). The drama teacher, Mr. Reyes, reveals that the school play will be A Midsummer Night's Dream set in a post-apocalyptic future, re-titled A Midsummer Nightmare (About Zombies). During rehearsal, Jake Dillinger, one of the popular boys, flirts with Christine, making Jeremy jealous ("More Than Survive (Reprise)").

Jeremy is confronted in the bathroom by Rich, who tells Jeremy how he managed his rise to popularity: as an unpopular freshman, he took a pill called a "super quantum unit Intel processor"—a "SQUIP"—containing a computer that implants itself inside the user's brain and tells the user what to do and say. Rich suggests that Jeremy buy one in order to become cooler ("The Squip Song").

While playing video games with Michael, Jeremy tells him about Rich's offer. After an awkward conversation with his dad (still not wearing pants), Jeremy decides to check the SQUIP out. Jeremy assures Michael that, no matter what happens, they'll always be a team ("Two-Player Game").

The two visit the mall to buy the SQUIP from a dealer at Payless ShoeSource. Jeremy, as instructed, swallows it with green Mountain Dew. When the SQUIP activates, it causes Jeremy to have a seizure in front of Christine and Jake ("The Squip Enters"). The SQUIP (in the guise of Keanu Reeves), criticizes Jeremy's appearance, personality, and behavior, telling him that everything about him is terrible ("Be More Chill, Pt. 1"). The SQUIP orders him to go to a store to buy a new Eminem shirt. Jeremy encounters two popular girls from school, Brooke Lohst and Chloe Valentine, and the SQUIP helps Jeremy fabricate a story in order to create empathy with the two girls. They offer Jeremy a ride home ("Do You Wanna Ride?"), which the SQUIP demands he accept, but Jeremy declines because he does not wish to leave Michael in the mall. The girls leave, and the SQUIP lies to Jeremy and tells him that Michael has left the mall. It tells him that in order for its plan to improve his social standing to work, Jeremy needs to obey every order it gives him ("Be More Chill, Pt. 2").

The next day, Jeremy heads to school with renewed confidence, wondering if he might be less invisible than before. The SQUIP delves into the inner psyche of the student body around him, giving Jeremy insight on the fears and insecurities of his fellow peers. Jeremy's SQUIP syncs itself with Rich's, instantly making them friends. Jeremy heads confidently to the play rehearsal ("Sync Up"). Christine tells Jeremy about her feelings for a guy she knows, who Jeremy initially believes is himself, but who turns out to be Jake ("A Guy That I'd Kinda Be Into").

Afterward, the SQUIP informs Jeremy that Christine won't date him until his social standing drastically improves. Encouraging Jeremy to use an interested Brooke as a stepping stone to greater popularity, he hooks up with her, while Jake asks Christine to come to his house ("Upgrade"). Overwhelmed, Jeremy asks the SQUIP to shut itself off for a few minutes. Immediately, Jeremy sees Michael and is elated but Michael states that Jeremy has been ignoring him all day. The SQUIP explains that it was using "optic nerve blocking" to block Michael from Jeremy's vision and that in order to be more popular he has to "upgrade to Jeremy 2.0." Jeremy eventually decides he is tired of being a loser and turns on optic nerve blocking, leaving him alone with the SQUIP ("Loser Geek Whatever").

Act Two

On Halloween, Jake hosts a large party that features alcohol and other shenanigans ("Halloween"). Christine arrives in a revealing princess costume, hoping to please Jake, but he brushes her aside to party. Jeremy arrives to meet Brooke, but Chloe, who is jealous of Brooke, tries to seduce Jeremy. Jeremy is uncomfortable and tries to get away, but the SQUIP forces him to remain in the situation as it escalates to Chloe making out with Jeremy ("Do You Wanna Hang?"). Chloe also has Jeremy drink alcohol, causing the SQUIP to malfunction, and then feigns having sex with him, angering Jake and breaking Brooke's heart.

Fleeing from Jake and the girls, Jeremy runs into a bathroom, where he finds Michael, who has crashed the party. Michael tries to warn Jeremy of the dangers of the SQUIP, explaining that someone ended up in a mental hospital after they went crazy trying to get it out of their head. Jeremy accuses Michael of being jealous of his popularity and calls him a loser. Michael, devastated and angry, locks himself in the bathroom, where he has a panic attack and sensory overload as he mourns the loss of his best and only friend ("Michael in the Bathroom"). Jeremy talks to Christine without the SQUIP's help and he asks her out in a burst of confidence ("A Guy That I'd Kinda Be Into (Reprise)"). Christine, who has found herself in an existential crisis after breaking up with Jake, declines.

Meanwhile, Rich goes around the party frantically asking people for Mountain Dew Red. Jeremy's SQUIP finally reactivates and reviews the events of the night, prompting Jeremy to leave the party immediately. Rich, alone and desperate, talks to his SQUIP and then sets the house on fire. The next morning, Jenna Rolan, the school gossip, informs everyone that Rich had burned down Jake's house at the end of the party, sending Rich to the hospital and causing Jake to break both of his legs jumping out of a window while trying to escape. The news spreads throughout the school through text and tweeting ("The Smartphone Hour (Rich Set a Fire)").

At home, Jeremy is confronted by his father (still not wearing pants), who brings up Jeremy's new personality and change in attitude. Jeremy reprimands his father for his behavior since the divorce, calling him a loser as well. Shaken by Jeremy's words, Mr. Heere realizes that something is very wrong and that he must take charge. He tracks down Michael and asks him to not give up on his friend. Michael reluctantly agrees to help, on the condition that Mr. Heere puts on some pants and becomes a better father ("The Pants Song").

As the cast prepares for the play, Jeremy encounters Christine, who is shaken and upset about the fire. Jeremy is unhappy with the relationships he has damaged and angrily blames the SQUIP for his misfortunes. The SQUIP instead blames it on "human error" and tells Jeremy he can improve the lives of the rest of the students, and eventually the whole world, by providing them all with SQUIPs. In Rich's locker, Jeremy finds a box full of SQUIPs, which Jeremy then pours into a beaker of Mountain Dew ("The Pitiful Children").

Backstage during the play, Christine confronts Jeremy over his use of the SQUIP, causing him to doubt the plan. However, the SQUIP has already begun to take over others in the play. The SQUIP reveals its intention to sync the entire student body, and then the whole world. Jeremy comes to a realization: Mountain Dew activates the SQUIP, while Mountain Dew Red deactivates it. Michael reappears from the audience with a bottle of Mountain Dew Red, which he gives to Jeremy after making him apologize for his actions, but a SQUIPed Jake dumps most of it out. Jeremy and Michael fight off the controlled students until the SQUIP reveals that Christine has been SQUIPed, and under its influence, she professes her love for Jeremy. Jeremy, however, realizes this is not what he had wanted and makes Christine drink the last of the red Mountain Dew: this causes a chain reaction that destroys the rest of the SQUIPS ("The Play").

Jeremy wakes up in the hospital, sharing a room with Rich, who proudly comes out to Jeremy as bisexual and is ready to finally be who he really is. Michael visits Jeremy and the two reconcile, and Mr. Heere (finally wearing pants) visits Jeremy as well, informing him that he'll be a better dad. Surrounded by his friends and family, Jeremy realizes that there will always be outside influences, but he needs to learn to make up his own mind instead. He asks Christine out again (for bowling alley performance art), and this time she accepts and kisses him. The SQUIP reveals itself to still be alive, weakly taunting Jeremy from inside his head, but Jeremy ignores it, happily proclaiming that "of all the voices in my head, the loudest one is mine" ("Voices in My Head").

[maxawello]

Saving Nat - Alternate to Avengers Endgame

DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T WANT A  SPOILER!!!!

you have been warned.

Plot: Nat doesn’t die in Endgame.

Also please don’t come at me with potholes with regards to this. I’ve been roasted already about it and I just want a happy ending okay? ahahahah ha ha ha :(

“Wait.”

Little did they know that that one word would have so much impact. Little golden lines were moving from their original position, time moving along its newly regulated path.

Nebula stepped into the heart of the Avengers headquarters, almost having skipped the group meeting, but making the last-second decision not to, finally feeling as though she was part of the group.

All of the heads turned and in a split second she felt bashful. If her skin hadn’t been blue, she was sure a red tinge would have shown up. Petty humans. Somewhere in the back of her now-machine mind she had room enough to chortle and to remain composed on the outside.

“What do you mean wait? This is our chance.” Natasha was the first to speak up, voicing what everyone else was thinking as the girl who had been on the other side for too long began to plant a seed of doubt in their already doubtful minds. Especially Tony’s.

Nebula took in a deep breath, surprised at the lack of training war had given her for situations like these. It was always so much easier to just eradicate something - a blessing and a curse of being a daughter of Thanos.

With every single eye on her, she looked at the drawing board.

Three in New York, one in Asgard and one each in Vormir and Morag.

“Do you remember what happened when my father collected the soul stone?”

Steve cocked his head, trying to think back to any mention of it. Rocket looked to Thor and Thor looked to the beer bottle in his hand.

“We don’t have time for this,” Tony said, tapping the screen. The glass sound echoed through the room. “Hurry up with your story.” His mind was racing and every second that they didn’t begin to work, he doubted whether or not it was worth it to leave. After all, he had two, who were waiting back home, who loved him 3000.

Nebula fought to stop her eye roll, although her optical implants were hindrances to them spotting it. “My father – ”she stopped for a second. “Thanos,” she corrected, swallowing hard. It was a habit. She had only wanted to please him her entire life until so little ago she had seen what was wrong. She sighed. “He left to Vormir. With my… Sister – ”

“But Gamora never came back,” Rocket finished, understanding the meaning behind her story.

It flashed before Tony’s eyes. He had been so close to taking the gauntlet off the purple giant but then one imbecile had knocked the giant head and sat him loose from the weird girl’s spell.

Tony grit his teeth. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could three words rang out.

“Whatever it takes.”

Natasha and Clint spoke the words at the same time, eyes immediately looking up to meet each other’s gaze.

“I’ll do it.” Again, they spoke at the same time.

She glared at him although there was no anger behind it. “If this works – ”

“And it will,” Steve interjected.

She sent him a soft smile, knowing he couldn’t help it and that it was exactly what she needed. “When this works,” she corrected, “you’ll have your family back.” Her words rang true and deafening to the rest of the Avengers. “Don’t you think Laura should see you again? Your children?”

Clint hung his head, holding his face in his hands as he thought back to the five years without his family. “I’ve done bad things. I can’t let you take this one.”

“So have I.” She took in a deep breath and then let it out. “But I don’t have a family waiting for me.” She looked up, her eyes met the combination of Bruce and the Hulk. He knew her secret even if no one else did. She gave him a smile as well before nodding away her fate. “It has to be me.”

And in the midst of all the drama, Steve had actually been thinking. He would hate to sacrifice his old friend in the process. He was always never able to trade lives. “Wait.”

Everyone turned to him.

“I have an idea.”

“Do you really think that’s gonna work?” Nat asked, sceptical but hopeful at the same time.

Steve nodded. “If we return it to the exact same time, then yes. He’ll never know.”

“I have a really bad feeling about this plan,” Scott said, checking his suit as they flew closer to Vormir. Natasha’s newly learned flying skills had been put to the test and had generally worked with the help of a couple programmed coordinates. After all, how hard could it have been if the Hulk had been able to do it?

Scott on the other hand, he’d been set as the highest stake player in this timeline with one and only one objective. Not to die, and to get the soul stone back to the future.

He did a mini jog on the spot, psyching himself up. “I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.”

Natasha watched him, pitying him, but knowing why it had to be him. No one could manipulate the equipment as well as he could.

Someone small enough that Thanos doesn’t notice.

We have one shot.

“Approaching the drop in three, two, one…”

Scott exited the spaceship, Peter Quill’s flight tech on him with a couple advancements from Stark. It would be a silent drop in so that Thanos wouldn’t hear him coming. The plan was to get as close to the mountain as possible, grab the stone and then get as far away from Thanos as possible.

“Nat, I’ve entered the atmosphere.” And as he dropped, he prayed that the bottom of his suit wouldn’t light on fire as he tried to slow his entry, careful not to turn on the boosters too loud. He couldn’t shrink yet or he would take too long to descend and be a sitting duck as he did. But as he fell, a light emanated from the mountain, shooting up into the clouds.

“Are we too late. What was that?” he questioned before he spotted a purple body lying in the water. Thanos.

He frowned, shrinking as he hit the ground, close enough to the body to run towards it. Stealth had to be key and in the midst of all of the dirt he was sure he could make it. The whole crux of the plan lay on Thanos being emotionally affected enough to the point that Gamora’s death would bring him one step towards foolishness. They just needed him distracted for a second.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” he asked, more to himself than anyone else because he knew that whilst they could watch, any communication from the ship back would be dangerous. While he could omit a small signal, the ship would overpower that by many times and any neighbouring ship would be able to find the signal. “Is it just me or is it too easy?” Much like the coincidental rat had been. And in how many other universes had the rat stepped perfectly to trigger the sequence?

Natasha watched from on board the ship, chuckling and shaking her head. “Easy is good,” she said to herself. To her, Thanos was only a dot on a screen, and the small ant sized man was running towards him, just another dot on the screen.

She took a break from watching the two collide. Nebula had educated them on Vormir but nothing had prepared the earthlings for its beauty. Dark, but beautiful. Enticing. It reminded her of a reflection of herself.

Meanwhile, below on the planet, Scott jumped into the water, guided by signal on his forearm. “Getting it now.”

In a delirious hand, it was easy to fit and to get a good hold.

“Got it!” He wrapped his arms around the stone and launched himself back through time to 2019, sacrifice free.

[theaceofgrapes-blog]

Restoration (Defender part 3)

"Princess. Do you honestly think this is a good idea?"

"No. Not at all, Coran. But it's the only thing we can do. I don't care what he did, we're not murderers, we can't let him bleed out like a dying beast here on the ground. He's not a threat anymore."

"But he will be if we let him heal! He'll try to kill us like he did back in the Rift!" Coran stomped his foot, furrowing his eyebrows. "He's a Galra, the son of Zarkon nonetheless, and as it has been proven, they cannot be trusted!!" The Gorgeous man was fuming with indignation, both towards the Princess, and the Galra Royal bleeding out on the concrete. Nonetheless, the Crown Princess of Altea did not heed to his words and lifted the man off the ground, carrying him inside Blue. "If his restoration will be my undoing, so be it. I already gave up my life once, don't think I won't do it again if we have even the slightest chance at peace. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an healing pod to prepare, whether you're going to help me with it or not."

That was three weeks ago, at least on the planet they were. Being in a different time pocket made days on Earth go by like doboshes in there. She remembered texting Lance in what she thought were two different days, yet the messages on his device were barely five minutes apart. -This is good- she thought. -this way, we have all the time we need.- to do exactly what though, she still had no idea. Allura had been staring at the man in the pod for what felt like ages to her now, a raging storm of conflicting emotions deeply distressing her. Her torturous stream of conflicting thoughts were brought to a grinding halt by Kolivan and Krolia entering the room, drawing a surprised gasp from the Princess. They bowed, and Allura absentmindedly gestured them to stand up as she turned her head to look at the fallen Prince.

"What news do you bring? Anything that may hint towards the circumstances of his exit from the Rift, or how he survived?" Asked the Princess apprehensively. The man before her eyes was a mistery, wrapped in an enigma and tied with a pretty ribbon of misdirection. He claimed to abhor violence and was shown to be suave, elegant and respectful in his ways. Yet. He killed. This man had his hands soiled in the blood of Alteans, and he kept such an information from her! How could he, how could he do such a vile thing, to someone as innocent as her people, as Romelle! It was that name that was uttered by the two Blades.

"We found news regarding Romelle. Rather... disturbing news, may I add." It was Kolivan speaking, his deep voice echoing lightly through the otherwise empty room. "After raiding Lotor's various hideouts, we found an encrypted datalog, that, once we cracked the code, revealed a series of video diaries dating back to when the Colony was first founded. And.. well, We believe it's better if you look for yourself."

While taken aback by that statement, the Princess couldn't call herself reluctant to comply. She would've done anything to learn more about the mysterious man that so inadvertently entered into her life, completely turning it upside down. She eagerly grabbed the device from Kolivan's hands and waited for the two to leave, before sitting down on a chair by the desk and turning the contraption up. She was greeted by a list of video files, all dating back thousands of years into the past. She clicked on the first with trembling hands and almost gasped as Lotor's face showed up, looking slightly younger than he was now. Unlike his current counterpart, the Lotor of the Diary had a much more emotional approach, given away by the weak smile and weary eyes he sported, she wondered what could have ever happened to turn that soft visage into such an unreadable facade.

"Hi! Uh.. I really don't know how to start this- but here we go. I guess introductions are in order. I am Prince Lotor, son of Honerva and Blood Emperor Zarkon. During the following years, I shall document the development of our colony through these video diaries. I.. I currently am in exile, on a planet beyond the Quantum Abyss. The wildlife is pacific and most of the flora and fauna is edible, so rations won't be an issue. The lakes and rivers are also devoid of any dangerous pathogen, although the construction of a water purification station is underway. The First Altean who joined me, Petrullius, he's extremely happy to be here. Currently, he's briefing the others on what the life on here will be like, away from the grasp of the Empire... no need to hide, to constantly change appearance... no running away. Not anymore. This is our new Altea, brought forth from the ashes of the Old one."

Allura wasted no time and immediately clicked on the next one, captivated by the apparent innocence of the young Prince.

"Entry number 2, officially marking three years since the start of the colony. Everything proceeds smoothly, and the empire is seemingly unaware of our existence. Our people are thriving, and apparently, they begun working on... some sort of monument. Project Lazon is still in its drafting moments, but it looks more than promising. If the pacing of our progresses remain stable, we may be able to restore our past back to its former glory. The universe will soon remember the might of Altea."

"The might of Altea..." Allura muttered, biting the edge of her sleeve and rapidly moving on to the next entry. What was shown did not make any sense to her, none at all. If the man was so enamoured with Altea and Altean culture, why exploit them for Quintessence? She hoped that this data may harbour within its cybernetic walls the answer to her doubts. And so, entry after entry, recording after recording, Allura fell deeper into the rabbithole that was Lotor's psyche, into the labyrinthine depths of the Emperor's mind.

"Entry number 16, this day marks eight full centuries since the Colony's creation. Project Lazon, the plan to create an elite force of Alteans piloting Quintessence-powered robots, has been put on hold for the time being due to a fallacy found in Alfor's writing. But I'm sure it must have been a translation error, which will be sorted out the soonest possible. Other than that, the Colony's population has been at its all time peak, to the point we actually seemed to have skipped one person during the latest census! Haha, those sentries can be... rather unreliable at times. Said person, Romelle, she's Bandor's older sister. God she's such a sweetheart, so interested in the functioning of our Galra and Altean tech... it's refreshing to see someone willing to learn with so much animosity and glee. Oh? I think they're calling me, I better get going."

And with that, the vlog ended. She then noticed that the next entry was way closer to sixteen then all the other ones were to their previous ones, hesitant, she pressed the display to the following entry and immediately held back a shocked gasp. The man in front of her looked utterly devastated! What could have happened to bring his morale down in the span of mere weeks?

"Entry Number 17: Dark, Darker, Yet Darker. Grim is the future I see, and even after pondering all my options, Grief seems to be the only constant. It's as if the Universe itself is mocking me, reminding me of my constant failures and shortcomings. My mother- no, she's unworthy of said title. Haggar, that witch, she's found out about the Colony! About us!"

Young Lotor slammed his fist on the table, making the camera wobble.

"Romelle is a spy, a treacherous snake acting as her eyes and ears behind my back! Oh how foolish I was, to let myself trust again! The Witch has given us an ultimatum. I am to provide her with the most gifted Alteans of our Colony for her to further her sickening experiments.. failure to do so will prompt her to reveal the Colony's location to Zarkon, thus marking the extinction of Alteans as a whole. For now, I shall comply. I.. I can't let my race be wiped out because of impudence.. I'll find a way to turn this around, I have to! Oh sages help me!"

Allura robotically moved on to the next entry, unable to process anything going on at the moment. In it, Lotor was admittedly more under control, but not less devastated in the slightest, for his eyes betrayed great grief behind his best attempts at a calm and collected expression.

"Entry Number 18: I decided not to tell the truth to the other Alteans, so that panic does not spread like wildfire. It is vital for their survival that the true purpose of the Moon Base is hidden. A medical ward, where I attempt to restore back to health all the victims of Haggar's failures. To the questions that they ask, for the people who do not come back, I tell them that they lost their lives during the exploration of the Quantum Abyss. And so they've repurposed my statue as a memorial, inscribing on them the names of those they 'Lost' as if to scalpel the proof of my failures deep into my soul. Romelle.. she isn't aware of what she did. She's a clone with implanted memories and a preset killswitch. The simple thought of that rotten hag doing something as dehumanising as this.. it sickens me to the core. But perhaps, perhaps I can turn this in my favour. She truly believes her brother is on the Second Colony, and she truly believes that I'm untrustworthy.. but I can plant a seed. I'll break one of the Alteans out, and have him tell her the truth, all the truth, nothing but the truth. I alone cannot fight her, but an organised rebellion with the Alteans, we may be able to subdue her!"

The next entry, nineteen, was nothing but a two minutes video of Lotor crying his eyes out before abruptly cutting the recording. She skipped to the next entry, the last they were able to salvage.

"Entry number twenty.. everything went wrong. As I was trying to break one of the Alteans free, the alarms rang. I managed to send the pod off but the kid didn't know how to properly land. The vehicle crashed into the Holo-sphere where I had Romelle secluded but he was in critical conditions and only managed to spew a few broken words out before I had to take him back to the medical ward. I can't afford other Alteans to die, not if I can prevent it. I let Romelle run off, in hopes she would do the right thing, but she seems all the more convinced that I am the Devil. Project Lazon is to be considered a complete failure.. and, as My Generals are tracking the Trans-Reality comets, my last resort has to be put in place. From this moment on, Project Sincline is officially open."

"And so.. now you know." A feeble, raspy voice beckoned from behind her. She snapped up in shock and immediately turned her head to see the broken Prince just now trying to raise his head to meet her gaze. She didn't think twice before tossing herself in his arms, hugging him tightly and breaking into sobs, apologising profusely. Lotor was shocked, yes, but too weak to fight back. He closed his eyes with a weak sigh and slowly, gently wound his arms around her, his fingers gripping the fabric of her clothes. As the Princess that stole his heart was wetting his bare chest with her warm tears, Lotor felt all the pent up betrayal, anger, and sadness melt away. Lotor cupped her cheeks, calmly lifting her chin so to meet his gaze.

"Allura." His voice was a whisper, a murmur lost to the weakness of his body, The words of a shadow trying to break through the light.

"Your Highness.. you hurt me. You were the first person in my millennia long life I was able to fully trust, the first I could be wholly vulnerable with. After our fight.. the years spent in the rift were spent reliving our last moments together for what felt like an eternity. It's a deep scar, one that will hurt for long. However, you tried to heal me. You tried to bring me back, after finding me again, even going against Coran. You.. you tried to understand me. That, Princess, is more than anybody has ever done for me in my life, and.. it's more than I expected. I would be foolish and childish to just ignore that and focus on the painful moments, for how brief and scarce they were. I won't forgive you, Allura, because there is nothing wrong that you have done to me."

Allura was shocked by Lotor's statement, and suddenly overwhelmed by rapidly resurfacing emotions. She clung onto him for dear life, her body shaking, broken from the outpour of whimpers. Her heart stilled as she felt one of the Prince's hands press its thumb over her altean mark, stroking it with infinite gentleness and care, wiping the tears away from her face. "Your Highness.. you needn't weep. Still those tears, Oh Muse, for I haven't lost what once we shared. I have not rejected the past we lived, I didn't sway from the path we walked. Don't mourn my loss, for you haven't lost me at all. My Queen, I love you." The Altean woman resisted no longer, she couldn't deny her need to share this passion with the man before her, and so she closed the distance between them. Her arms wound around his muscular back and held it tightly, her legs were now splayed over his, straddling him, and just as that, with fierce urgency she claimed his lips for her once more, earning a surprised gasp from the half Galra below her. She breathed his breath, she tasted his lips, but it wasn't enough. She pushed past the barrier of his teeth and brought the kiss on a deeper level, losing herself as her senses faded into the haze. Intoxicated by the coppery taste, and by the incredible softness of his flesh, the Altean royal pulled away after what felt like ages, only to notice that her retrieved lover's face had turned from its classic mauve to a deep red. From her position, she could feel Lotor's heart racing like a wild horse, something that brought a sly smirk to her face. Since the pod had finished its job, she climed down and helped Lotor exit the contraption, guiding him to a pair of crutches so that he may regain motion after such a long period of immobility. As they exited the room together, They noticed Krolia and Kolivan had fallen asleep waiting for the two to exit, nestled into one another for warmth. Chuckling at the cute display, Allura decided to carry a blanket to the two and cover them with it. To avoid embarrassments, the two royals agreed not to question them on the happening after their awakening. The following days flew by with Lotor and Allura doing some much needed catching up and planning the next steps to take against Honerva, especially now that she had several Alteans under her rule.

"And so.. the Alteans in the pods were the secret team that helped you build the portal on the ruins of Daibazaal, and it was the overexposure to the Rift that got them sick?" Asked Allura, looking down in thought. "Precisely." Stated Lotor. "It was basically a race against time. The earlier I could provide free, unlimited Quintessence to everyone, the earlier that filthy, filthy hag would've stopped her barbaric experiments. I lacked the magic of Oriande, and for that reason, I was not able to restore them... I am sorry."

Allura interrupted his apology with a quick peck to the lips, having to stand on the tip of her toes to reach him. "You don't need to apologise, Lotor. You did what you could, with the methods you had. It's me, I should apologise for what I did back then... I should have trusted you, I should've let you explain yourself. I was blinded by my prejudice against your race, by the feeling of having another Altean close to me I abandoned reason completely in favour of a gut reaction. I'm.. oh so deeply sorry, Lotor, for having hurt you to such a cruel extent." Lotor smiled softly at the woman before him, and took her hands between his, holding them tightly. "Allura, my love. Worry not for the mistakes of your past, all is forgiven, and I love you." His voice was low and mellow, his tone was warm, soothing, sweet like molten gold for the Princess' ears. Allura's heart was caught in a deadly grip, threatening to crush it. This man really had given up everything to be with her, and she had shut him down so mercilessly, she wondered if she had actually been the villain all along. She bit her trembling lip and sunk into his arms again, weeping warm tears that trickled down his chest. The Galtean prince then combed a hand through her hair, smiling softly, and sheepishly kissed her forehead. "Shh, it's okay Allura, you don't need to cry. I'm here for you and with you, we will see the end of this together, I promise." Allura replied with a gentle nod, nestling into the man's thick chest and relaxing to the drumming rhythm of his beating heart. As the alien sun settled below the hills outside of her window, she guided Lotor to her bed, and the two spent the night in one another's embrace.

The following morning was wasted in softness and cuddles, with the Princess spoiling her man with chaste kisses and soft caresses, the likes of which he had never felt before. But as the noon came, the two had to rise from their shared bed and make preparations. For that day was the day the team would return to earth and organise the Universe's last stand against the Witch Haggar. Packing their things was a rather quick job, if intermitted by Coran's vigilant gaze and the knowing sneers of the two Blades, which brought a flush of red on the lovers' cheeks more than once. As they boarded the Blue Lion, a little more cramped up than before, the Princess' mind couldn't help but wonder how the paladins would have reacted to the news, in particular, a very clingy sharpshooter. The travel to Earth was safe and free from stops, and, as the Mecha landed, Allura couldn't help but wonder why the Hangar's door were sealed with the armoured blinds.

[illogicalbroccoli]

Not OK

Content Warnings:  Discussion of PTSD

Pairings:  None, really

Summary: Tilly is there for everyone.  Who is there for her?

AO3 Link:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/16964904

According to her mother, Sylvia Tilly had a character flaw. Actually, according to her mother, she had many character flaws, ranging from talking too much to choosing to spend her life fiddling with warp coils and matter converters in the depths of empty space. Tilly’s mother had sometimes even implied that Tilly’s allergies must stem from some hidden moral defect, worming its way to the surface as a bronchio-nasal reaction to artificial fibres. But among these flaws was the one that Tilly was thinking about now: Tilly couldn’t pass by anyone who looked sad. 

It had started young. One of Tilly’s earliest memories was of herself at age four, walking to ballet lessons with her mother. As they walked, they passed the outdoor tables of a small cafe, where a man sat by himself, reading a PADD with a pained expression. Tilly had stopped, letting her mother march ahead, tapped the man on the knee and asked what was wrong, and if he wanted to hear a joke that would make him smile. She hadn’t had a chance to tell it – her mother, finally noticing that she was alone, had run back and snatched Tilly up, telling her NEVER to talk to strangers like that again.

The lesson didn’t take. At school, Tilly had always been the student who took it on herself to welcome the new kids, showing them where the bathrooms were, which the best swing was, where the biggest puddles formed when it rained. When she saw a kid crying, she would usually rush up to hug them and tell them it was OK. That was how she made her first real friend in school. It was also how she got punched for the first time. From kindergarten onward, her school reports gushed about her empathy, her compassion, her sunny disposition. Her mother would read these outpourings with a tight mouth, and mutter about how her daughter would turn into a pushover.

Tilly knew she was not a pushover. Right now, though, she had to admit that, perhaps, a compulsion to comfort the sad could have its downsides. Not that Tilly had any desire to stop comforting people, but perhaps it would be nice if there weren’t quite as many people to comfort at once. First and foremost, of course, there was Michael. These days, Tilly spent at least one evening in three lying with her arms around Michael, feeling the waves of silent sobs move through her body. As a child, Michael said, she could only remember crying a couple of times. She seemed to be making up for it now.

Then there was Paul. Tilly had known Paul as a sarcastic, persnickety, perfectionist, always ready with a cutting remark; she had known him as a singing, dancing, obsessively joke-making goofball, hopped up on mycelial spores and tardigrade DNA. Nowadays, she was getting to know silent Stamets. In Engineering, Paul worked obsessively, eyes fixed on his screen, speaking only to ask Tilly to check readings or make calculations. She had sat with him at lunch a couple of times. Paul had eaten mostly silently too; Tilly’s attempts to start conversation had been met by shrugs and one-word answers. She dearly wanted to tell him he could talk to her about Hugh, that sharing would help, that it was OK to feel whatever he was feeling. She didn’t dare, though, and not just because he was her boss. He seemed brittle somehow, like too strong a shock might shatter him like a porcelain cup. So she said nothing.

And what about Captain Saru? Or rather Acting Captain Saru, as he insisted on reminding her. Not that she could ever ask Saru about his feelings, but she had served with the Kelpien long enough that she thought she could read him. She could see that Saru was not happy. As the first Kelpien in Starfleet, Saru bore so much. In popular imagination, Kelpiens were a species of cowards, who would turn tail and run at the first sight of danger. Even after everything he had done, Tilly knew that Saru still felt the weight of that stereotype. He had led the Discovery out of a hopeless situation, had held true to the ideals of Starfleet when Starfleet itself had abandoned them, and still, she knew, there were many who expected him to fail. True, they had given him a medal, but they had not given him Discovery. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be back taking orders from someone else; the admiralty was, apparently, not ready to put a cowardly Kelpien in charge of a starship.

And those were only the people she saw regularly. She had lost count of the one-offs, the random people she encountered in the cafeteria, in the recreation room, in the corridors. Like the crewmember she had found sobbing against a bulkhead, whose sister had been on the Buran when Lorca blew it up; the nurse whose hand shook when he tried to take Tilly’s blood during a checkup, and who had explained that he hadn’t slept in three days because whenever he slept he dreamed of Klingons ambushing him with bat’leths and knives… And so many more. Discovery had been, almost literally, to hell and back, and everyone bore scars. Of course, there were psych-trained medics in sickbay. Two of them - for a crew of 130. So Tilly picked up the slack. She listened. She hugged, when people wanted it. Sometimes she gave advice, or just made silly jokes to distract them, for a few minutes, from their pain.

If you had asked Tilly how she was taking it, she’d have said she was fine. That helping people was her thing. That feelings were good, no matter what they were. That making other people happy made her happy too. All of that was true. But, she was starting to have to admit to herself, she wasn’t fine.

The realization had come very suddenly. She had been on the bridge, at her station, doing routine engine diagnostics. Saru had asked her for some statistic, she couldn’t even remember, and she had pulled up the entry and read it out. Saru made one of his clicking noises, and said “Ensign, I do not believe that can be correct.” Tilly had looked, and saw he was right, she had pulled up entirely the wrong menu. And then it hit. Her stomach felt like it had just fallen down a turbolift shaft, her face got terribly hot, and she knew that she was about to cry. Sylvia Tilly’s crying was like everything else she did: it was not subtle. She bit her lip, tried breathing slowly through her nose, counting to twenty, all the other things they had taught her when she was small. It was not going to work.

“Captain Saru?” she said, working hard to keep the waver out of her voice. “Request permission to return to quarters. I’m- I’m unwell.”

Saru tilted his head, and for a moment fixed his pale blue eyes on her.

Please please please please say yes. Please don’t let me start bawling on the bridge.

“Very well, Ensign. Do you need to report to sickbay?”

“No, it’s- no I’ll be fine,” Tilly said.

She walked to the lift doors, step after careful step. She managed to hold it together just until the doors closed.

* * *

The next day found Tilly eating lunch alone. Michael, Paul and Saru were in the ready room, in some sort of holo-meeting with Admiral Terral. Normally, Tilly would have gone and sat with the bridge crew, but after yesterday’s incident, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself around them. So she sat alone, eating her macaroni and cheese, and stared idly out at the ripples and flashes of the warp slipstream.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Tilly started, banging her knee on the tabletop. Lieutenant Detmer stood by her table, a laden tray in her hands.

Tilly hadn’t talked much to Detmer. If she was honest, she had sort of been avoiding her. Not because of her implants, Tilly would have hastened to add. True, when she first joined Discovery , Tilly had been slightly taken aback by Detmer’s one cold blue eye, by the forking trail of metal along her scalp. But that had faded quickly; now Detmer was just Detmer, and her implants were just another part of her, like her hair or her smile. No, Tilly avoided Detmer because she was tall, slim, and straight-haired; because she didn’t talk much, kept her feelings in check, and projected an air of professionalism at all times. (Almost all times, Tilly corrected, remembering that party all those months ago). Basically, Detmer was everything that Tilly’s mother wished Tilly were. Tilly knew that that was a stupid reason to be nervous of someone, that Detmer seemed perfectly nice, that she was being stupid for letting her mother get in her way like this. Nonetheless, Tilly avoided Detmer.

She realized that she had kept Detmer waiting quite a time while she thought, and said, “Oh, um, yes, of course, sure. I was just- I mean, if you want to. Of course you want to, because you asked, um, yeah.”

SHUT UP SYLVIA , Tilly thought.

“Thanks,” Detmer said, smiled, and sat.

They ate in silence for a moment.

“It’s been quite the year, hasn’t it?” Detmer said.

Tilly drew in a breath. She wanted to shout not now! Come back tomorrow, next week, I’ll totally listen to you. But just not today! But she didn’t. Instead she said,

“Did you want to talk about something?”

Detmer held Tilly’s gaze for a moment.

“Actually,” she said, “I was wondering if you did.”

Tilly blinked.

“You left the bridge pretty fast yesterday,” Detmer said. “I wanted to make sure you were OK.”

Tilly opened her mouth. Then she closed it.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m OK.”

Detmer took a sip of water.

“Really?”

“No,” Tilly said. “I guess I’m not.”

Detmer smiled.

“I have forty-five minutes until my next shift. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Tilly took a deep breath.

“OK,” she said.

And she did.

[themaddeningscience]

February, 1944 Six Months post Operation Husky

Amid the rancid smoke and smell of burning flesh, he whispered his wretched little instructions into my ear. The blasted brilliant dog collar he had implanted in my head included a little radio transponder behind my ear that allowed him to slip his voice instructions into my head, and hear anything I say in return.

I was not a religious man, not any more, but I thanked whatever power I could that he was unable to see through my eyes. He made me describe what I saw though, could tell as ever when I lied, so I didn’t bother to.

My body - cursed, wonderful, terrible thing that I had made of it - was rejecting the implant. But slowly. Too agonizingly slowly. I could feel it pushing against the inside of my skull, the pressure increasing every day. I did not relish the agony I would suffer when it finally cracked the bone.

Mostly because if I had not gained my freedom from the madman who was bound to keep me indefinitely as his private labrat, he would just put it back.

“Walk down the main street of the village,” he said. “Describe it to me.”

 “They bombed it,” I said dutifully, softly, boots crunching on brick and cobbles that had heaved and scattered all over the street. Most of the houses still stand, but there is a crater to the north, where several buildings clearly stood. A marketplace and town square, I would guess. The fires are mostly out now, and the people, where there are any, watch me from the glass-less windows, from behind torn curtains.”

Of course they didn’t. I was dressed, against my desire, like one of the people who had done this to them. 

Don’t tell me to engage with them, I thought. I won’t obey.

“Go to the crater,” he said, voice tight and a bit breathless. Excited. “What do you see?”

Sadist.

“Corpses,” I sneered. “A smoking hole. Ruined lives and livelihoods.”

“Any alive?” he asked mildly, as if he wasn’t half-panting into my ear in delight.

“None,” I said.

“Shame,” he said with what seemed like genuine sadness. “I would have liked to investigate what sustained trauma like that does to a psyche. Bring me a finger at least, will you? Lovely little souvenir.”

I grit my teeth but stooped to obey, tugging at the first hand that I saw, half buried beneath a pile of stone and wood from some sort of splintered cart. The finger, though it hung on to the hand by just a ribbon of flesh and the cracked bone, did not pull free like I thought it would. I dropped the hand and began to search for another.

And then the hand moved.

Oh no. No, I thought. I don’t want to do this.

But something on his scanner must have pinged because I felt my body stop, like the hand of a giant had wrapped around me, held me still, limbs pinned to my sides.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“A hand - the pinkie finger is nearly severed - I tried to tug - it moved - at-attached to the body - hidden,” I choked out, around the non-existent fingers around my throat.

“Aiutatemi,” the little voice said from beneath the pile. The hand twitched again and the voice - a child, god, a little girl it sounded like - cried out in pain.

“You want to save her.”

“Yes,” I admitted. Because it didn’t do to lie to him, but I also was no monster. No matter what my government thought of me. No matter what uniform I was dressed in.

“No,” he said, decisively.

“You said -- you wanted --”

“And now I am saying no.” The chuckle he added to the end of the word slipped like acid down my spine, and etched one more tally mark to my chart of the revenges I planned to take against him when I had the power to do so.

“Let me - let l-let me…!” I begged, fighting the compulsion that held my body rigid, that made each movement away from what was compelled of me, desired of me, a slow fight against air suddenly thick and sticky. “She's a child! Please!”

Perhaps it was because I begged that he let go.

 I had never begged him before. And he had tried so hard to make me beg. So many times.

 The invisible hand let go.

 I stood there, arms swinging, limp, rising on my toes, gravity kind once more, my head light and my lungs filling to full capacity in the first real full breath of air since this wretched thing had been put under my skull.

 “And what would you like to do with the child if I let you have her?” His voice crackled over the comm unit, buzzing into my head, unheard by anyone but me.

 “What…?” I gasped in horror for in that moment I understood all too well the fate of that child if I picked her up, right now, scooped her into my arms and held her against my heart. Took her to one of the houses filled with people too frightened to--

 But that’s not what he would let me do.

 If I saved her, I would have to bring her back to him. It wouldn’t be a bargain, only the reality.

 And she was … young. Fresh. The wrong skin color. Likely wrong religion. And, unless I missed my guess (and I never did), a budding one of Us. The bricks around her hadn’t quite settled against her body the way they should have. Shielding, likely. I was glad again that the monster could not see through my eyes.

 “I'm sorry,” I said to the child as I turned my back on her. “But this is kinder.”

 And because I was walking back to him, because I had begged and failed, and he was pleased, felt like he was punishing me, my gait remained easy and light.

 As I left the way I came, curtains twitched.

 There’s a girl, I mouthed to each of them. Save her. Save her. Save her.

 The weight of what I had done, of my cowardice, pushed me in ways that his control did not, however. It was so heavy it should have sunk me through the crust of the Earth and dropped me straight into the Devil's lap. I deserved it.

 Coward.

[littleladyyred]

The Tie That Binds: Chapter Two

Link sets off to the Capital, while Mipha becomes upset at the situation.

~AO3 Link~

Chapter Select

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter Two

~ The Long Road Ahead ~

“You're going to Hyrule Castle?!”

Mipha’s worrisome voice filled his ears as the two of them rested at the summit of Veiled Falls. The thunderstorm that briefly drowned the eastern side of Hyrule had come and gone, and the sky had once again returned to its crystal clear state. It was peaceful up here on the elegant waterfall, breathtaking even. Directly below them sat Zora’s Domain, a glassy aqua-colored castle that was built in the center of a ravine and surrounded by waterfalls of various sizes. It was home to the Zora’s, a fish-like species who had inhabited Hyrule for centuries, and was currently ruled by King Dorephan (who also happened to be Mipha’s father).

Zora’s Domain was definitely one Link’s favorite places to be. It was secluded and perfect and beautiful, and whenever Link was feeling overwhelmed, the serene sound of rushing water would fill him with a calmness that soothed his soul and weary mind.

Although right now, despite the location, tranquility was the furthest away from Link’s restless psyche.

It had been six hours (and counting) since the King of Hyrule had come and given Link the news of his father's death. Six hours since he was told that he will be packing up his life and uprooting to the Capital, all for the sake of becoming this ‘Hero’ he wasn't even entirely sure he was. Link had mused over his situation, pacing back and forth within his small cottage, before Mipha had once again knocked on his door and suggested they went to the falls to clear his head and ‘talk it over’.

Although she was the one who was doing most of the talking.

Link sighed and closed his eyes, briefly mumbling, “It's not like I have much of a choice.”

“You always have a choice.” Mipha argued.

“What was I supposed to do?” Link said, eyes still closed and voice low.

Mipha scoffed. “You could have said no?”

“To the King of Hyrule?” Link’s eyes fluttered open and met Mipha’s. He could see now the worry in her eyes as she sat crisscross next to him. A cool breeze, blew around them, causing a faint blush to spread across her face. She didn't respond, as she knew that challenging the King’s orders would very well result in punishment, but that didn't stop her from feeling any less concerned.

Link wished that she would just drop it. That she would just sit back and soak up what was left of the (now evening) sun and enjoy the little time he had left in this beautiful place. He didn't want to spend the next two days with his best friend arguing over something he had no control over.

Sighing again, Link broke his eyes from Mipha and laid on his back, head facing the sky. Next to him, he felt her shift awkwardly before saying softly, “I just don’t understand why you have to go.”

Link shook his head. “I just have to. My father wants me too.”

“Even though you’ve always said that following your father’s footsteps in becoming a Knight was the last thing you ever wanted?” Mipha’s voice was cold when she spoke, which was odd for her as she almost never got upset or angry about anything.

Link kept his sight to the clouds. She wasn’t wrong. The thought of him being a Knight, just like his father, made him extremely uncomfortable. Ever since the incident, Link wanted no part of fighting, knighthood or anything involved with the Hyrule Army. He just wanted to be normal. He didn't want to be apart of the Royal Guard, he didn’t want to be involved the Great War to come, and he certainly did not want to be the Hero of Hyrule….

It was ironic….

Seven years ago, Link would have raved on and on about how he couldn’t wait to become the Hero. But now….the thought made his stomach turn.

He was afraid.

Ever since the incident, Link was always afraid….

“It’s not a matter of if I want to or not. I have to—I have to do this…..” Link’s voice was barely above a whisper.

I have to do this, he thought. I have to.  

He had been repeating that in his head ever since the King had left him alone to his thoughts this morning. Despite his fear, his anxieties—this was inevitably something he absolutely had to do. People’s lives depended on him. This was (quite literally) his destiny. The sole reason of his birth was to carry out this duty. A duty he’s been running from ever since the darkness poisoned his mind and implanted a fear that prohibited him from being this Hero.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Mipha’s voice rose, dragging Link back to reality. She was looking at him again. Her amber eyes bore into him with confusion. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Link sat up now, meeting her eyes. “You don’t understand—”

“Well then make me understand!” She cut him off. Link had never seen Mipha this upset—this angry.

He wanted to make her understand. He really did. He wanted nothing more than to spill all of his thoughts to her—to his best friend, who he knew would listen and understand and would be nothing but supportive—

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t unleash all of his baggage on her. This was his burden—his destiny. And the best thing he could do was just to silently bare it.

It was the only thing he could do.

“I can’t make you understand this.” Link said quietly. His eyes held hers as she fidgeted with her hands. “Please don't make this harder than it already is. I don't have a choice in the matter. I have to go. I have to do this.”

Mipha broke their stare and fixed her vision downward, staring at the ground. She was lost for words, she was upset. And Link—Link felt horrible. He hated seeing her upset, let alone being the cause of it.

“Hey,” He moved his hand to cover hers, the contact immediately catching her off guard. Golden eyes flew up to meet his, a shade of red blossoming across her face. The touch was innocent. It was nothing but a kind gesture to show her that he cared and that he didn't want her to be upset. But of course, (like Link half expected), she obviously took it in a different way. A way that Link hadn't intended…

“It's not like you're never going to see me again,” He explained. “I'll come back to visit—And I'll write. Everyday.”

There were a few moments of silence before she smiled. Her eyes lighting up and expression turning back to normal. Link wanted to pull away his hand (especially since he knew she was reading too much into it) but to his surprise, it was her who slowly began to retract her hand out from under his.

She pushed herself to a stand and looked down at Link. Her eyes glimmering in the evening sun. “Ok.”

Link looked at her inquisitively. “Ok?..”

“I really wish you would tell why you have to go, but I won't pry. Whatever the reason is, I'm sure it's a good one. I trust that you're only doing what you have to. So...ok.” She extended her hand out for Link to grab, he took reluctantly and rose to his feet.

“Ok.” Link looked down, unsure how to further the conversation. He felt awful that he couldn't confide in his best friend. That's what best friends were for. To tell each other secrets that you would never tell anyone else. To talk about dreams, and fears, and just—everything.

Link was never very good with words. But lately, he was getting even worse.

“Come on, let's go.” Still holding his hand, she began to lead them away from the Falls.

“Go? Where are we going?”

“Earlier you said you would come fishing with me, before the King interrupted. And if you're only here for two more days, we might as well make the best of it.”

Link felt himself laugh as she pulled the two of them down the hill, deeper into the Domain. Behind them, the orange sun began to dip behind the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and purple. Link didn't know what future held, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let his fear and anxieties ruin his last two days of freedom. He would spend the next two days happy and carefree. He would spend the next two days as if he were normal.

Just like he’s always wanted.

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

“Do you have everything?”

Bags of various sizes were sprawled out in the lush grass as Link loaded them up and onto the wooden cart. Mipha leaned gracefully up against a tree, arms crossed and face shaded from the early morning sun, as she patiently watched him pack his life away. The two days had came and gone faster than he expected, and it wasn’t nearly enough time to say his goodbyes. Especially to the only home he's known for the past decade.

“I think I do.” Link sighed. “I'm probably forgetting something though...” He bent down to open up one of the bags again, double checking the items. He had packed far too many clothes, and even more food. He tried to take as many things from the house as he could. He wanted to feel like he was still home, even while staying in the Capital. As he rummaged through the continents, he noticed that his hands were shaking. He also noticed that Mipha had detached herself from the tree and was now kneeling next to him. Her voice, soft and comforting.

“Hey, it's going to be ok. Remember what you said? It's not like you're never coming back here. I’m sure you’ll be able to come visit.” She grabbed his hands and pulled them away from the duffel bag. Link looked up to meet her honey-colored eyes. They were soothing and she looked at him as if he were the most important person to her in the entire world.

Link….didn’t like that look. It made him feel awful. He knew how she felt about him. He’s known for awhile, as Mipha wasn’t all that good in hiding it. However, Link didn’t—reciprocate—her feelings. She was his best friend, sure—and even though he did care a great deal about her….he didn’t...love her...

At least, not in the way she wanted.

Feeling awkward, he pulled his hands away from hers and stood up with the duffel bag, chucking it onto the wagon with the rest. “I know, I know.” he mumbled. “I’m just..”

“Afraid?” Mipha finished for him.

Was it that obvious? He thought. Link felt vulnerable and he hated it. He hated everything about this situation and he wished that Hylia would just strike him down with lightning so he wouldn’t have to go. So he wouldn’t have to leave his home, and everything he loved behind.

“Link.”

King Rhoam’s voice sliced through the air, pausing Link and Mipha’s conversation. He turned to his speaker to see the regal King coming towards him, although he was not alone. Next to him, trotted a cinnamon colored horse with a long silvery mane.

“She's for you.” Said Rhoam as he handed the reins to Link. “Her name is Epona, she belonged to your father.”

Immediately, Epona gestured her head in Link’s direction. He got closer, allowing her to nuzzle into his forehead. Tentatively, he brought up a hand to rest against her neck, and slowly began to run his fingers through her silky mane. Epona leaned into his touch, as if he were no stranger. She accepted his affection as if they had been companions for years. He had always been good with horses. It was one of the few things he and his father actually bonded over. Aiden’s love for the animals was evident, and he made sure that Link (from a very young age) developed a love as well. He taught Link how to catch, soothe and tame wild horses, and it wasn't long before the two of them earned a reputation throughout the Stables as some of the best ‘horse catching Hylians’ ever to grace Hyrule.

“Aiden wanted you to have her.” Rhoam’s voice was soft, as Link continued to soothe the gentle stallion.

“Thank you.” Link said quietly, but his eyes did not leave Epona. He felt a hum of happiness vibrate through her, and a smile spread across his lips. He loved her already. Not only that, but he was grateful that his father had left him such a beautiful and loving companion. Maybe now this trip wouldn't be so bad.

“We’re getting ready to set off. I suggest you mount up.”  Said Rhoam. Link turned and nodded his head silently as the King made his way over to his own horse. Link followed instruction and climbed up and onto Epona. It had been awhile since he last rode, the hard leather saddle felt uncomfortable between his legs. Epona shifted at the sudden pressures of his weight, and Link leaned over and carefully stroked his hand along her neck, soothing her once more.

“I suppose this is it then...” Mipha stood besides him, her hands once again clasped together. It was weird looking down at her. Normally she was taller then Link, but when hoisted up on Epona, her head barely came to his hips.

Link gave her a comforting smile, hoping to mask the anxiety he felt climbing inside of him. “I'll come back to visit as soon as they allow.”

“I know.” Mipha smiled, but he could tell it was forced. “Just...please be careful. I hear the road to Central Hyrule is dangerous...”

Link couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin that grew across his face. “Are you kidding? Careful is my middle name.”

Mipha laughed, genuinely, and for a moment the apprehension in her eyes faded away. “Sure it is.”

The royal horn erupted around them as the Knights and Guardsmen prepared take leave. A succession was formed and mounted at the head was King Rhoam himself. A few seconds of silence passed before the horn was blown again, and this time the line of Royals began to move, their horses all marching all in unison.

“I guess that's my cue.” With one more look towards Mipha and soft smile, Link quickly (but gently) signaled Epona to go forward. She responded immediately and fell into a light trot, steadily keeping up with the others.

“Don’t forget to write!” Mipha called out. “You promised me everyday!”

Link chuckled as he looked back to meet her gaze. She stood at the entrance of Hateno Village, a patch of sunlight illuminating her in a way that made her glisten.

“I won’t!” He called back, but he didn’t have much time to say anything else as he was ushered away from the small village and into the sea of various Knights and Royals.

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

Mipha watched from afar as the love of her life rode off into the morning sun, leaving his home and his life behind him.

Leaving her, behind him.

No, she told herself. He’s not leaving me, don’t be ridiculous. He’s just going to the Capital—and it’s only temporary! It won't be forever….Besides, you’re not even his to leave behind...

Mipha sighed and closed her eyes. She held it together pretty well today, she thought. Especially for the fact that she felt as if she were dying on the inside. And she knew—she knew it was selfish for her to feel this way. For her to feel like he was abandoning her, and that he had just up and left without a second thought. She knew this feeling was completely outrageous and she had no right to feel this way. The only reason he was leaving was because due to his father’s dying wish for him to become a ‘Knight’—even though Link had always said he ‘never wanted that’ and just wanted to be normal and live like a regular person—

STOP. She forced herself to open her eyes and push away her vicious thoughts. This is Link, Mipha..Link..Your best friend...This is the man that you—that you—

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. It hurt too much. Because she knew that he would never return her feelings. Not in the way she wanted...He only saw her as a best friend and she knew that and accepted that a long while ago…

But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

Link meant the world to her. She would literally die for him, if she had too. He was the only person she had ever met, in her entire life, that made her feel this way. That made her feel butterflies every time he so much as smiled towards her, or laughed at something funny she had said, or even the way his arm would sometimes rub up against her when they would sit up top Veiled Falls and talk about dreams, and aspirations and—

You’re doing it again…She reminded herself.

She needed to stop thinking about him. She needed to move on and just focus on things that mattered. Like her training. She had been avoiding it like the plague for the past few weeks. Muzu was probably furious with her. She could already hear his lectures on how it’s ‘imperative’ she keeps to her schedule and that she must become ‘a women and leave the child behind’ if she ever wants to be crowned Queen of the Domain one day…

Sometimes Muzu could be….overbearing..(to say the least), and she meant that in the nicest way possible. He was a great mentor and had always been nothing but supportive when it came to her duties. The only problem, was the pressure. He made her feel like if she didn’t stick to this ‘strict schedule’, she would be failing the Domain or the Zora or—something along the lines of that. He made her feel like she had to be perfect, all the time, and that the tiniest of mistakes would be the cost of her entire future.

Sometimes, it was too much for Mipha. Sometimes getting away and spending time with Link was the only thing that kept her sane.

Except now, she didn’t even have that.

Needing to get away and keep her mind distracted, she slowly turned from the entrance of Hateno Village and began her way back towards the Domain. She didn’t know when she would get to see Link again, but she knew she couldn’t stand here anylonger, watching him ride away in the distance. All she could do was wait for his return, and ignore the burning tears that unconsciously rolled down her cheek, and fiddle with her hands until she was sure they were numb.

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

Link awoke under cold drops of rain and was surrounded by the smell of pine and dirt. There was a chill in the air that caused him to shiver, and he was suddenly (and unfortunately) reminded that he was sleeping outside and not in his warm bed. He was curled under a weeping tree, keeping his distance from the other Knights and Guardsmen. He felt awkward on this trip as it was, so when they had stopped for the night next to Squabble River Link took the initiative to sleep as far away from the group as possible. And King Rhoam had argued that Link could stay in a tent, along with the rest of them (like a normal person), but Link held his ground and kindly declined as he was much more comfortable out in the wild.

Despite the rain and cold that he had not taken into consideration.

They had rode for a total of twelve hours before the King commanded they stop for the night. They had only made it about halfway, and took little to no breaks. Link was uncomfortable, both from sleeping outside and the fact that he hadn't really eaten anything since he left Hateno. Although, it wasn’t like he could eat anyways as his nerves and anxieties were off the chart. And the closer he came to the Capital, the worse and worse they became.

He pushed himself upright, to a sitting position, stretching his arms while doing so. Next to him, he heard Epona hum at his movement and gently nuzzled into his cheek. Link smiled as she did this and reached over to pet the top of her head, gently scratching the bridge of her nose.

“How was your sleep, wild boy?”

A new voice rang through Link’s ears, catching his sleepy attention. Currently towering over him was a burly Knight. He had a head full of strawberry shaded hair, and it fell perfectly around his chiseled jaw line. His arms were crossed over his wide chest as his sleek and silver royal guard armor glistened in the drizzled rain.

Link stood up, feeling awkward and unsure on how to respond to the Knight. He didn’t want to come off as rude, but he really didn’t feel like talking. The wound of having to leave home was still fresh, and all Link wanted to do at the moment was seclude himself and sulk in peace. He continued to stroke Epona, carefully running his fingers through her mane. The Knight seemed to notice his silence.

“No answer?”  He pushed. “You hate us all that much?”

Link turned to the Knight then, a burst of annoyance bubbling in his chest. Why won’t this guy just go away? Can’t he take a hint? He thought. The Knight opened his mouth, about to spew something else, but was cut off abruptly by a familiar stern and regal voice.

“Gwen, get back to the tent.” King Rhoam came up behind the red-headed soldier, who turned around startled. He didn’t argue though, as soon as the King’s eyes met his, he sternly turned on his heel and made his way back to the group.

An awkward silence filled the air again. The King still stood in front of Link, his eyes watching him patiently. He spoke after a few heartbeats.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Rhoam asked, a sense of comfort in his voice.

Link looked to the ground, avoiding eye contact. “A little, your Majesty.”

The King sighed. “If you’re going to be a Knight, you’re going to have to learn to look your commander in the eye when speaking.”

Link reluctantly did as he was told, slowly lifting his sight to Rhoam.

“Better.” Said the King, and for a moment, Link could swear he saw a sense of pride flash across his face. It didn’t last though, as in the very next sentence he went back to the same old stone-cold expression. “We’re leaving in five. Pack your things. I plan to be at the Castle by supper.”

Link silently nodded, still looking directly at the King. It wasn’t until Rhoam turned on his own heel and walked away, before Link released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

Swiftly, he gathered the few of his things that were scattered underneath the tree (which mainly were just clothes he had rolled up and used as a makeshift pillow and blankets) and placed them all neatly back into his pack. He walked Epona over to where the rest of the horses were stood and then placed his bag onto the wagon that held all of the groups gear and supplies. With only a few minutes left before take off, he walked over to the river and splashed some water onto his face, his reflection rippling back as he did so.

He looked tired. So tired. Emotionally and physically at this point. He had bags under his eyes, and he couldn’t determine if they were from the lack of sleep, or all the crying he had done the night before. His yellow hair was knotted in the back, (most likely from sleeping in the lazy ponytail he failed to take out) and he had small pieces of grass that seemed to have gotten stuck in between strands.

Link did his best to comb through his hair with his fingers. He wasn’t one to complain when he was dirty, (as romping around in the dirt and grass was a normal thing for him) but he felt a strong urge to fully bathe himself and just soak in the water, letting all of the stress he’s acquired over the past few days drain away. Sometimes, isolation and a good bath was all one needed to relax.

That, and maybe a few pints of rum.

Rum also sounded really good to Link, right about now.

“Mount up!” A Knight from the group hollered out as Link just finished fixing his hair and pulled it back into the comfortable ponytail. He ran over to Epona and Hopped up and on, soothing her once settled into the saddle. A few moments later, the herd was off, and back on the road to the Capital.

Link wasn’t sure how long they rode for. It felt like hours as the breeze flowed through his hair, the wilds of Hyrule rushing past. The group had fallen into faster pace this time around. Link suspected it was due to the King wishing to be home before night fall. He didn’t mind though. The feeling of running freely through the wild was thrilling. It sparked an energy within him, causing him to lean into Epona, giving into the rush and letting the wind carry him away.

By midday, they made it to Hyrule Field. The lush greenland spilled into his view, as the beaming sun hung high in the ocean sky. That’s when Link saw it, for the first time in a decade.

Hyrule Castle.

The intimidating structure loomed in the distance, illuminated by afternoon light. The sight was beyond incredible yet extremely frightening, all at once. With each gallop, the fortress grew closer and closer. And suddenly, in the midst of his calm and energizing atmosphere, Link was terrified. Soon he would be there, standing in is old home. Standing in the rubble that was his old life. His life in Castle Town—his life before the incident. Soon he would be training with the guard, and soon he would be traveling back to the Lost Woods, to face the darkness once again….

Soon, he would become his destiny.

Encaptured by his mind, Link had stopped paying attention to the road ahead and in punishment, practically slammed into the others as the succession came to a halt. Epona neighed loudly as he pulled back (harder than he intended) on her reins, her hooves grinding into the cobblestone path. He looked up to see why the sudden stop of movement, and instead was granted with a severe feeling familiarity and pure panic.

He was home.

<----- Previous Chapter  -  Next Chapter ----->

Just some author notes for this chapter.

1. I know that Epona in the game "technically" isn't Epona, but in this fic, it's going to be. 2. I kinda have a headcanon that young Link is kinda like season 1 Bran from GOT. (so please forgive and bare with my slight GOT references/easter eggs. THAT SHIT IS COMING BACK SOON AND IT'S TAKING OVER ME) 3. I plan for the next 8 chapters to be all of the pre-game stuff. Chapter 9, should start with the first memory and the botw story will really start to take off then.

If you enjoyed this, let me know and be sure to follow me for updates! I will always post the new chapter here and on AO3.

The next chapter should be out within a week's time. (as long as life doesn't get in the way)