#and sees her skill.................... anyways

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Make Food for You

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, kissing, making food, teasing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I already wrote this on my old blog but now is a good time to re-write it.

Jinx knows how to cook pretty well, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not so surprisingly given how she's always the one making things and experimenting. However that also means she might make some really weird meals.

It's something you'll have to deal with if you're with her and might have to develop a strong stomach. She already has it because she grew up in Zaun and ate a lot of different things. For you she wouldn't recommend some of them yet and she will try her best to make something that you'll like. And she won't get too offended if you don't eat her cooking right away.

"I made ya some breakfast, ta-da! It's a little sticky but don't worry, eat your fill and I'll clean up the mess later. Don't look at it like that, it might not look pretty but I promise ya it's so good. I could eat this every day. I hope I'll get to eat it together it with ya every day, sugar."

Vi doesn't know how to cook because she never had the opportunity to learn. The first few dishes are bad, like really bad, almost burn the toast and eggs type of bad but Vi she isn't the kind of person to give up. She'll keep trying until she gets it right.

There have been times where she did burn things and she won't let you eat it since it's not right. She wants you to have the best of the best, even if she didn't. Might get a little distracted when you're in the kitchen with her so she prefers to cook by herself even if you're there with her. Regardless of how many times she gets it wrong she at least wants to learn to cook your favorite.

"Yes, this is burned toast but this time it's not my fault, it's yours. Well you're the one who walked in here looking all cute and distracted me. One kiss is all it takes if it's from you, sweet stuff. Sit down and let me do this right and if you do you'll get something sweeter than this."

Caitlyn knows how to cook really well. She did grow up with people doing the cooking for her however she was curious and wanted to learn how to do it on her own. She's a very hand-on learner, now she can use some of her skills to make you happy.

She gets up really early anyways so she might as well make breakfast for the both of you. The first time she brings you breakfast in bed she thinks your reaction is cute, the way you stare at her, eyes wide and drooling over the food. For her it's not odd to have breakfast in bed. And if you stick with her you'll get used to her pampering you. Be sure to tell her how the food tastes.

"Good morning, darling, I brought you something. See, I didn't just brag about my cooking skills, this is me showing you I can cook. Showing off? Suppose I am a little bit, it's not my fault you didn't really think I would bring you breakfast in bed."

Maddie can cook some dishes but she can cook them well. Her skills aren't anything impressive but they don't need to be because she can get take out too. But she is more than happy to share what ever she makes with you.

She falls back on take out more often than she would like to admit. However not when she invites you over to her place, then she will put her best foot forward. A lot of that is because she wants to impress you hard, but it also gets her to work on her skills either way she wins. She keeps looking at you very intently while you take that first bite. Thankfully she doesn't seem to do a bad job if your smile is anything to go by.

"I'm not weird for watching you eat, it's called being smitten, gorgeous. Anything you do is interesting to me, you know that by now. This isn't empty flattery. I already got you to eat my cooking, I don't need to butter you up at this point."

Ekko isn't the best cook out there, he will be completely honest with you. While he does know the basic things you can't really expect anything fancy. If anything he focuses more on the dish being filling than tasty.

The thing about him cooking for the two of you is that he can only do it on his free time, which isn't a lot. Therefore he wants to make it a bonding activity. A cute date of sorts, mostly in the late evening when the rest of work is done. Sometimes he will try to surprise you but its hard when his living space isn't that big and everyone knows everything in the Firelights. The gesture counts.

"There wasn't much time so it's pretty simple, but at least it's your favorite, Firefly. No, I actually finished the new project, I had extra time to kill. Please, don't thank me! It seemed only right for me to make you something after you cheered me up this morning."

Vander knows how to cook really, really well. He kids to raise, and he was on his own for a very long time, he had to become a good cook. Plus he makes awesome drinks, being a good cook was a bonus skill for him.

He's always the first one to wake up and start the day in the Last Drop and he always makes breakfast for everyone. Not just breakfast but every meal, his kids need to eat a lot, there's always a little left over for later. Even if he feels a little sleepy himself he at least wants to put something on the table. It's the dad instincts in him. And husband instincts, hopefully.

"Don't ya even think about sneaking up on me right now, darlin'. I've got a pan full of sizzling hot oil in my hand, I don't want it all over us. Hugs are fine, I always love ya being close to me, but keep your hands to yourself. We both know ya get handsy in the morning."

Silco didn't know how to cook before he adopted Jinx, since then he's had to learn. It wasn't easy but now he does know a lot and he can impress the woman he's dating. Now when you stay over you can expect good for for your date, and good food when you wake up.

When the dating gets more serious he lets you help him cook, but until then he pretty much does it on his own. Jinx will go nowhere near the kitchen alone, not after that one explosion. He does have a list of recipes that he makes the most. And a few that he made up. Sometimes ingredients are hard to come by so he needs to improvise.

"Pass me the flour would you, love? This time I will follow the recipe, yes, the last time there was a bit too much sugar in there. I know you liked it but it's not the healthiest thing now is it? Fine, call me a worried dad, I know you think it's attractive."

Sevika isn't able too cook that well, she never was, she always liked others cooking for her though. However when you tease her about it she takes it as a challenge. And you know damn well that she doesn't back down from a challenge.

Curses a lot when she messes up, though you can bet that she's not gonna let food be the thing that beats her. When you walk into the kitchen it's a mess which will take a while to clean up. But at least she managed to make the dish this time and it's quite good. For her hard work you give her a very passionate kiss and that just makes her wanna work harder. That's the best reward she can ask for.

"One kiss for at that work, doll? I think I earned myself a little more than that, maybe you on the table instead of all this food. Yeah, I know it's gonna get cold, you're right. Can't let all this hard work go to waste, but when we're done we have to work all that food off."

Viktor doesn't have as much time to cook as he could if he worked a bit less. Not that his skills are award worthy but he can make a few things, at least in his opinion. Give his cooking a chance.

When he was a student in the academy he had to learn how to make quick meals and that is where most of his strength is. Just very simple dishes but he knows how to make them well. There are times when he himself forgets to eat so he makes sure he gets a good meal when he can. If you're part of that that's even better. Having you eat his cooking makes cooking more fun.

"If you think cooking this is so easy then you make it will you, beautiful? Ah so now you like it, I see how it is. I'm just kidding, I love making food for you when I can. But if you want to make it yourself please let me do a taste test first. I promise to be brutally honest, just like you are with me."

Jayce has absolutely no skills in the kitchen unless you need him to fix or build things in there. He knows this too and will admit it right away. Trust him he is much better in science than in cooking food.

That being said he will join you in the kitchen when you cook. He takes an interest in it because the way you cook makes his mouth water. When he learns about what your favorite food is he wants to lean how to cook it. However he does this in secret because he wants to surprise you. Sure enough he's able to get the biggest smile out of you when he presents you with your favorite meal.

"I learned it secretly, all for you, babe. Well I am quite good with my hands and I enjoy working, that was just another excuse to learn. Of course I don't have an ulterior motive for it! But if I did... and if it was kissing... would you kiss me for doing a good job?"

Mel is actually an amazing cook and knows a ton of recipes. Including your favorites of course. Do you really think she'd invite you over and offer you nothing to eat?

It's been a long time since she had to cook for anyone but herself but she's not bad at it at all. She has high standards when it comes to good food specifically because she holds herself to high standards. It doesn't matter how simple or complicated the meal is. When she invites you over and offers to make you food you better believe you're eating good that night. Not strictly food either.

"Beloved, slow down a little, the food isn't going anywhere and neither am I. We have all night. Every time I make food I do so because I want to enjoy a good meal, and you should too. And please be careful, I don't want you to choke, on the food that is."

[toxycodone]

PLEASE! TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT DAISUKE AND A POSSIBLE RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM. I'm begging and crying, please

ship. daisuke x reader

content. sfw + romantic

an. i have not been reading any other content but I’ve seen the massive complaints of people babying him through the grapevine 💀 so well. hopefully my thoughts are good

We all know this but Daisuke is seriously such a cutie.

Just. He’s so outwardly kind and enthusiastic, so before you two are even dating he’s practically just glued to your hip.

I think before any romance is involved he makes a great friend. He’s inviting you to his house to play video games (his mom makes snacks which is lowkey embarrassing but also pretty cute).

Honestly I think his mom is trying to teach him to be an adult but also like. Cannot stop babying him. Like he’s such a good son could you resist spoiling him?

And it just spirals to you too bc like! You’re the guest! Going to his place is always nice bc it’s like yay! It’s like they practically adopted you. (It wears out tho his mom makes you start doing your own dishes or something and it’s like oh. You’re *really* apart of the family.)

ANYWAYS ENOUGH. but before you two get together. Daisuke’s crush on you is like. So obvious.

He tries so hard to keep it to himself bc he’s afraid to ruin whatever you have right now but. Geez.

He lights up when he sees you and is almost talking a mile a minute—he’s just so excited to be with you and be talking to you!! You’re his favorite person!!!

And he’s always trying to impress you…like, it’s always something so dumb too. Showing off his arcade skills or whatever. He’s silly.

I think he can’t resist blushing when you’re around too. Like. There’s always a nice mauve stain on his cheeks and it’s ADORABLE.

He doodles. He doodles you. The stereotypical initials in hearts. YEAH. When he’s in classes or taking notes he most definitely starts daydreaming and ends up with silly doodles and hearts and crap UGHHH

His sketchbook is where it really gets dumb and crappy and romantic. Which he tries SO HARD TO HIDE FROM YOU ITS CRAZY.

when he musters of the courage to tell you his feelings (there’s a lot of stuttering and crap) he’s fist pumping and going LETS GOOOOOOOOO (when you’re not around but you manage to catch it probably)

He’s such a good boyfriend oh my god. In my mind he really values family and stuff so you are EXTREMELY important to him (and by default his fam)

You have a good relationship w his mom off the bat she ADORES you for how happy you make her son oh my god

He does a lot of stupid romantic shit like…pulls a chair out for you at dates, gives you flowers, tries to write love notes 💞

DUMB THRIFTING DATES WHERE YOU PICK OUT OUTFITS FOR EACH OTHER. UGHHHH DONT TOUCH ME.

But dating you also makes him think more seriously about life. Because he gets waaaaay ahead of himself and is like “oh my goodness,,,I have to prepare and get a job so we can get married and have a giant wedding and buy a nice house and get a pet and” (he’s naming your kids in his mind btw.)

[ceratedfish24]

I just saw someone say that Scott has a hard time saying that he loves his teammates. I- have you watched Scott? Scott “‘We don’t need [ender]pearls, we already have the best Pearl’ right to Pearl’s face” Major? Scott “saying ‘I love you’ isn’t going to be a hard task for me cause that’s normal behavior for me” Major? Scott ‘“‘the sweetheart’ as deemed by Skizz, Impulse, and Grian” Major? Scott “‘I love you, say it back’” Major?????????? Scott the most loving person on the server other than maybe Skizz?????????????

“Scott is manipulative. He makes himself look good to protect his teammates.” “Manipulative” implies that Scott is lying. Scott stays true to his word. He’s one of the most earnest people on the server. If he isn’t going to defend someone, he tells them that he’s not going to defend them. If he says he’s going to do something for you, he’s going to get it done, which is why a lot of people value him as an ally. It might blow your mind, but Scott’s openness and honesty is what makes people trust him.

“Scott makes himself look strong.” Scott is strong. He wiped the floor with Impulse. He has escaped being chased so many times. He succeeded at a legendary and remarkably underrated bucket clutch. You think Scar’s bucket clutch was good? It was, but he was expecting to fall and onto flat land. Scott was knocked off of a tower onto a hillside. Nobody talks about that. He’s really good at PvP, and people know that. Additionally, Scott has never made himself look strong. He’s a very passive person. He doesn’t like starting fights. Bdubs is terrified of Scott, and Scott has only ever tried to be friendly to Bdubs. Bdubs just knows Scott’s reputation. Martyn is scared of Scott. Martyn has fought Scott first hand and won, and yet he did not want to make an enemy of Scott after Limited Life. Skizz picks a direct fight with a LOT of people, but he never picks a direct fight with Scott. He knows way too well how that fight’s going to go. Skizz will take on Lizzie and Scar and Tango, but he’ll never target Scott if he can avoid it. Scott knows that he’s strong. His MCC rankings are pretty solid proof. You can’t fault him for having genuine confidence in his PvP skills but not actually wanting to fight if he can avoid it. If he loses, that sucks. If he wins, he’s angered a team.

You’re calling him “manipulative” because his enemies are afraid of him and his allies trust him. That is what happens when an honest person is powerful. Most people who have had any experience with Scott know that Scott is not someone to mess with. After fighting Scott in Limited Life and being on his team in Secret Life, Impulse got WAY bolder on Scott’s team, because he trusts Scott to have his back, and Scott does have Impulse’s back. He’s constantly apologizing for Impulse and was very upset when he was asked to keep a trap secret from Impulse. Scott works so hard to be honest in a game where honesty is not always rewarded, and he does not deserve to be slandered like this, especially when nobody else is being treated like this.

Scott never makes himself out to be anything other than what he is. Lying doesn’t go well for him. He is just a guy trying to keep the fighting away from his teammates, and lying isn’t the best way to prevent that when so many people in this game are so clever or so quick to assume you’re lying anyway. Social games don’t have to be about control. Social games can be about building a reputation of integrity by having integrity.

This excludes Joel because Joel is too close to Scott in real life and will attack him because it’s funny to see your friend get irritated with you.

You know who will never say “I love you” in the life series?? Grian.

You know who was “manipulative” last session? Pearl knew there was a trap, promised not to tell her teammates, knew that Scott knew about the trap, and told him “why are we whispering? why are we crouching? there’s nothing there. you’re being paranoid”. Nobody says ANYTHING about that.

You know who likes to look strong? Bdubs, Jimmy, Ren, Impulse, and Skizz. Those are the ones who make themselves out to be bigger than they are, which is a normal strategy in a competitive situation. Bdubs loves to be LOUD and aggressive. Jimmy loves to puff his chest up and make threats, but he backs off the moment someone hits him back. Ren loves to take the lead (3rd Life, Double Life, and now Wild Life). Impulse loves to get aggressive and petty, and his confidence is often his end. Skizz LOVES to be overly aggressive once he’s allowed to kill, but he’s really bad at backing people into enough of a corner to keep them in a fight. Scott is quiet, because he doesn’t like the attention. Scott likes being distanced from the other Wild Life teams, because he likes being out of the way, but he went with the others anyway.

[generalluxun]

Reblogging my own post again because I have more fun hooks to add.

So going with this Ballet Chloé actually gives a better way to address classism and privilege than we got, too. It even has the twisty-aha moments the show is fond of. Let me break down the layers, which could be episodes or slot into a b-plot of some episodes.l, in roughly sequential order.

1)André buys/intimidates Chloé's victories in competitions. Chloé actually *doesn't* know this. She's still an arrogant and bullying butt about things though. Marinette&co. Work to expose the cheating! Chloé is humiliated! She is forced to confront the trith

Get your haha moment.

2)Thing is she's *pissed* at her daddy over this. She insists she's good and could win/excell anyway! Of course no one will believe that. Teist- no she is good, and she does win her next competition, no cheating. Marinette is forced to face the fact that this horrible person can still actually be skilled at something. Learning moment!

3)Chloé is being mean to another dancer, grab Aurore for this? It would be a fun reuse for her character to have her come from dance too.(Common track for entertainers) Marinette and Co. come to Aurore's defense. They point out Chloé's demands and expectations are insane! Chloé has so many advantages! Not everyone has the money for the best equipment, private lessons, parents(or servants) who can chauffer them around to lessons, a nutritionist, and more. Sure Chloé works but she has so many advantages from the beginning that shouldn't be ignored. It's not about dragging her down, the good kids point out, it's about recognizing how your privileges have helped you and that others might not have them.

4)Via Audrey's introduction Marinette gets a bit of a glimpse into Chloé's life and- oh- sees how the ridiculous demands and Chloé's over the top behavior are just her *way of life*.

Kids rolled their eyes when Chloé brought out the gram scale to measure her portions. They smirked when she had an absolute meltdown over a new outfit not being ready for an exhibition. Her anger and demands arel legendary. But to her that 's just *life*. One parent who wants a shiny gold trophy daughter to reflect his own prestige as the 'Symbol of Paris' and the other who demands perfection just to get a moment's attention.

Marinette gets to see her nemesis break down over being .1KG overweight because it absolutely means her mother won't even meet with her on this visit. Marinette gets to appreciate her own privilege, parents who support and lover her unconditionally. A loving family environment that allowed her to grow at her own pace and in her own ways. She was watered regularly in fertile ground while Chloé was pruned and cut into a pleasing shape.

We see privilege comes in all forms.

5)???

None of this solves the issues between them. Understanding can help and there's plenty of directions to go with, but it isn't an instant fix. What we have done though is provide our child audience with several progressively more complex situations to teach and expand upon the themes. We've hopefully taught them to look deeper.

Isn't that what kids shows are for?

You know, Chloé honestly shouldn't be the way she is in the show, even with André and Audrey. Why?

Ballet.

Specifically the kind of extremely expensive top tier ballet she would be thrust into. As of Frightingale she had 8yrs of ballet. That's starting at 5-6, latest.

No high class ballet teacher will take anything from a 5-6yr old. No mayor will intimidate them. They will boot anyone they feel is slacking. Making it this long Chloé could be a bully, she could be vicious, she could be mean, but she *should* be driven, and disciplined. She should value physical precision and poise. Picking on Marinette for being clumsy flows perfectly from that, but only if we see her comparing herself favorably.

In the absence of a strong parental figure, that teacher should be an integral part of her life.

We got none of that though, because 'lol spoiled rich girl' and the story writing isn't as deliberate as they claim. The '8yrs of dance' was a throw away line made up for one episode without thought.

Going beyond her character, this helps explain a lot of the other ??? Moments and lose ends too.

[bokettochild]

Little Soldier Boy, Come Marching Home

I apparently had some Uncle Aflon brainrot (could y'all tell?) and it spawned this monster!

Not sure if I'm actually going to make a story about this, I mean a proper one, but this refused to let my brain rest until I wrote at least this much, so I figured I'd share it for the folks who kept sending me Aflon asks :)

(Yes I am very aware that the title is from a song, I'd recommend listening to the Reinaeiry cover on YouTube, because it's also rotted my brain since I listened to it and I think it suits Aflon and Legend quite well T-T)

-

  The first time he held Link, it was standing on the edge of the wood, away from the eyes of all the kingdom and under a veil of darkness. The forest chattered and whispered behind him, bringing to mind whispers of thieving Kolkiri and fae, and it had made him hold the babe in his arms all the tighter. 

  His sister-in-law was watching him closely, hands hovering, wary, like she didn’t trust him to hold the child quite right, ready every second to take the positively tiny bundle back from him and tuck that red and fitful face back against her own breast, hushing and cooing softly herself as she’d been when he’d arrived there. She didn’t though, although whether that was due to his own skill or some sort of restraint from the woman, he wasn’t certain. 

  “What’s the little ‘us name then?” He’d asked, pushing down the swaddling of rough fabric, far too rough for so small a thing, but lined carefully with far finer where no eyes could see. The child within trembled, cold air drawing a wavering wail from a tiny mouth. There wasn’t much to see anyways, he was a baby, same as anyone had ever had. Far smaller than Aflon had ever seen before though; so small he almost could hold him in one hand alone, but by all other means the tiny creature wasn’t much to look at. 

  Despite that though, Loretta’s dark gaze hadn’t lifted once from the infant, usually stern features awash with pure adoration as one trailing hand lifted the blanket back up to shield the babe once more. “Link.” 

  “Like the hero?” The dead one? 

  “Like the star,” her hands lingered so close to the face of her child, and in answer, the tiny one stilled, quieting as though some spell was laid over him. “Like the boy who brought hope to dark countries when Hyrule was at her worst.” 

  “Sir Raven’s squire.” 

  She’d nodded. “The same.” 

  And the child was just, well, a child; a tiny wee thing that felt so fragile to hands accustomed to the sword, and Aflon had shaken his head with a sigh, turning to Loretta with the question that had plagued him since he’d been given his riding orders this morning with the command to meet her here. “Why me?” 

  Those had been the words to make her draw back, pain welling up behind dark violet eyes that avoided his own. “There’s no one else I can ask.” 

  “He’s your son.” 

  “Which is the same as a sentence of death,” she’d hissed, tone harsh as her blade, “you know as well as I how Hyrule sees its crown. You took a vow the same as any other knight.” 

  He had. 

  “That child,” her child, “stands no chance, no matter what I do, if I keep him with me.” 

  Aflon had shifted, sparing the bundle in his arms a glance one more before murmuring, “his chances are pretty slim regardless, ‘Etta. Babes this small-” 

  “I know,” She’d run a finger along a tiny cheek, face pinching into something bordering on gentle, on sweet, something no one would describe the woman as save with her steads, “But it’s the best I can give him.” 

  He’d felt the weight of those words, the weight of their expectation, and all the more so when the Queen of all Hyrule had lifted violet eyes to hold his own and given him her final command. “Protect him, Aflon. He’s not just your prince, he’s your nephew, and I swear on hell’s ashes if you fail him, I will flay you.” Typically, he’d have assumed her words to be in jest, but the fire behind her eyes, a furious and dangerous love the likes of which he’s only heard tell of a mother for her babe, had made him take the words to heart. 

  “I won’t fail you, your grace.” 

  “No,” she’d stepped closer, pulled his arms down just a bit further so she could duck her head and press a kiss to a tiny cheek, “don’t fail him. All else doesn’t matter-” 

 “The princess-” 

 “I will mind the princess,” Loretta’s eyes had darkened, “and failing that, the Impa sent is a good one. Your priority is him,” and both of them had turned to the child, a child so tiny he almost weighed nothing, but yet lay so heavy in his arms with duty set beside him. “He needs you.” 

  And he did. He hadn’t seen it then, hadn’t felt it, but even a man made in blood and battle knows the worth of life. And so, somehow, he’d managed. 

  He’d carried his little charge back to the closest village and taken a room, managing to ignore the curious and lingering gazes of the locals at a young knight in full armor with a tiny baby in his arms.  

  In truth, he hadn’t been sure where to go from there. Loretta had entrusted him with her child, which meant all other missions, whatever they might be, were out of the question. His duty as a knight, as a soldier, was now changed, which, all considered, wasn’t the worst fate in the world. Still, he’d mused, staring at the tiny creature that slept more than he stirred, it’s not exactly the life he’d imagined for himself. 

  They’d always been knights, or so his own father had taught himself and his brother. The men in their family take up the sword and the women the plow and reigns of a rancher. Their older sister already is married with her own farm, and goodness knows Banzetta himself, though king consort, still carries his blade as the second in command to their warrior queen. For himself, Aflon has never imagined anything else than to serve as his forefathers, perhaps to marry, although there’s no woman who’s caught his eye as of yet, or at least none he’d be keen to stay beside for all his life. He can’t continue traveling Hyrule though, not with a tiny child in his care, not when the world out there is still so dangerous and dark. 

  For days, he’d stayed at the inn. He’d had no direction or clue, but he’d done his best to mind the tiny princeling in his care, although his attempts must have been very poorly indeed because it wasn’t long at all before two of the local village women had been knocking down his door and scolding him left right and sideways. 

  Without the women of Kakariko, Aflon could say for a certainty that neither he nor Link would have made it through that winter. They had though. The ladies of Kakariko nursed his precious nephew alongside their own children, taught himself how to change and clean a child, how to swaddle them up tight against the cold, how to burp and soothe them. He’d listened with care, listened like they were marching orders from a commanding officer, and he’d taken them all to heart, employing every bit of skill imparted to best fulfill his duty to the child in his care. 

  Thankful as he was for those women, the many mothers of Kakariko, young and old both, there was still, despite their care, a fear that gripped him each time one of them took up Link in their arms. The babe was a prince of Hyrule, and were that known it would be easy to stage some incident to see that the bad omen that was a royal son was no more. The women of the village would laugh, saying that anxiety for a child was normal, but they had no conception how deeply his fear ran each time one of them held the boy, each time he had to turn his back on his helpless charge for even the smallest of moments. 

  Come spring, he’d settled, bought a piece of land with the money he’d saved over the years and made a home for himself. As it happened, an old orchard had been up for sale, just close enough to the village to keep in touch with those who’d shown them kindness, but with enough distance that he no longer felt the need to be on the defense at all times against neighbors who might seek to harm the boy in his care. 

  They’d asked, some of the village folk, if the baby was his. For lack of a better response, he’d said Link was his brother’s. No one questioned it. Why would they? He was a stranger to them, and though chatter would sound on street corners wondering what had happened to lead him, ‘a clueless young man who hasn’t the faintest on how to mind a babe’ to have care of Link, but they’d never asked him anything more, just gone on offering advice. 

  That was fine though. That was better than them all assuming he was the father, because it felt wrong to allow such a misconception. He couldn’t say why, but when a parent still lives and wants their child, there’s no right for another to claim them as their own. Besides, he couldn’t be a father. 

  As it was, some days he felt he was doing a terrible job of being an uncle. 

  And he hadn’t thought of himself as such at first, but somewhere amid long nights sitting up, just watching labored breaths from a body almost too frail to take them, somewhere amid whispered words with doctors who’d told him to let go already, with midwives who’d urged him to keep fighting as long as his little one did, somewhere along the line of spending every day forever in the presence of the child, there’d come a day when he’d stopped worrying about his charge, and where he’d started fretting about his nephew. 

  Maybe it was those moments of clarity and wakefulness when big bright eyes would stay up at him, so curious. When floppy little ears would follow the sounds of his voice, or tiny hands would cling fast to an offered finger, toothless jaws working at its tip with little coos and warbles. He couldn’t say. But somewhere in that first winter he’d gone from a knight with a charge to an uncle with a nephew, and he’d never wanted to go back. 

  Sure, it was hard some days. Link was a sickly baby from the start, and he grew slowly. He was bright though, so very bright, like a star as his mother had said, and with every passing day those eyes so like the queen’s own had filled up with their own constellations of joy and smiles, tiny hands clapping, little feet stumbling.  

  Despite all concerns and doubts, his little Link beat the odds. 

  The child was his sunshine. He’d never been a very social man, so the company of a single boy wasn’t bad at all in his opinion. Granted, with just the two of them it had raised concerns when Link hadn’t learned to speak when he should, and for a time he’d wondered if perhaps it was for a lack of him having used words enough for the little one to know them, but in time he’d accepted that words weren’t to be had, and while some village folk would murmur that a changeling might have been traded for his precious bundle, stolen by jealous kolkiri in vengeance for their own lost little one, he’d never minded too much. He’d learned to speak with his hands from the village elder, and so Link had as well, and by that means they’d gotten along quite well until the wee one had made up his mind to try for actual sounds. 

  His old friends from the army were company at times, stopping in between missions and runs, catching a drink or a place to stay. He used to worry about exposing Link to the life he’d known among them, but in front of the child they’d all minded well, many even offering help and kindness he’d never dare to ask for. Some had children of their own, they said, others younger siblings. Regardless of the reason though, not a man would enter his home as didn’t have a kind word for his nephew, and while worry still brewed up within to see Loretta’s child among men sworn to prevent his existence, not a one had ever guessed at the truth. 

  And then everything had changed when Link turned eight. 

  He’d been talking by then. Belated though it was, words would come to him at times, although he’d prefer his hands over his tongue. Despite the murmurs of locals though, the boy was bright, sitting up more often than not with whatever book Aflon could find for him and positively devouring anything inside of them, big violet eyes near glittering in delight at the world painted for his eager mind, at the discoveries and worlds and words and stories- heavens did his little star love the stories! He had ever so much to say about what he read, and a smile brighter than the sun itself, and small though he still was, weak though he’d likely always be, Aflon adored the boy that ran to his arms at every day’s end and shared home and heart with him. 

  He’d had doubts, in the beginning, that he could settle to a quiet life, but it never felt quiet with Link so eagerly learning about it beside him, indeed, it felt like he’d only just learned what it was to be alive for himself! 

  And every day was a new adventure, teaching his nephew something new or finding himself taught some lesson or fact. Every night was settling down before the fire and holding firm against the plea of “one more page!” before smothering his precious Link in mustachioed kisses and tucking him in tight against the chill of the night. Sometimes they were disturbed with guests and his efforts would be in vain, but nine times out of ten when that did happen, Captain Bertram or Major Wilkins would take the lad back to bed and recount enough stories to finally have him dozing off against them, ready to be tucked back in again upon their departure. 

  He wouldn’t have changed that life for the world though. 

  Yet, the world seemed to have other plans. 

  Link had startled awake in the middle of a storm one night, tearfully insisting that something was wrong, that there was danger, that Zelda, the sister he didn’t know was his even then, was in danger and that she’d told him so herself.  

  To another man, it might have been nothing, just a bad dream, but Aflon had himself woken before to the sound of startled cries sounding through an army camp. He could remember when the queen would awake from a vision while traveling with himself and his brother, and many a time, Banzetta had recounted to him when it happened that he hadn’t seen. It was in their blood, the people of Hyrule would say, that those of the royal line would sometimes be given visions, often of future events and or trouble brewing beyond even the eyes of the Sheikah. That was how all the prophecies surrounding his own family had come about, how the reappearance of a hero had been foretold. 

  So, upon hearing such strange words from the mouth of his nephew, rather than beg him return to bed or otherwise ignore it, Aflon had taken it to heart. After all, he’d been reminded, looking down at the tear-stained face at his bedside, Link may be his nephew, but he was also still Loretta’s son; still born with the blood of the crown, a prince of Hyrule. 

   So, although Loretta had told him to leave Zelda’s care to herself long ago, back when she and Banzetta were still alive and before some mission had gone awry and the both were lost forever- despite the fact that the Impa chosen by the sheikah had, indeed, never once failed in her duties, he’d still chosen to attend to the fears of his nephew and brave the storm, just in case. He’d chosen to risk it, even if it did mean he’d strayed from his orders. 

  He wishes every day that he hadn’t.  

  If only he’d done as Loretta said and minded Link first and foremost, maybe nothing would have changed. If only he’d promised that in the morning they would go together- although, looking back, he knows the princess would have been dead by that time if he had. 

  He’s long come to grips with the fact that whatever he had done, there would have been no happy ending, but even so, he still hates himself that he had allowed what happened next. 

  Rather than tell him to go home, rather than protect him, shield him from the world his mother never wanted him to know, Aflon had looked into the terrified eyes of his nephew, down in the depths of the castle sewers where the boy had followed him against his orders, he’d used his final breaths to push a sword and shield into hands too small to hold them, bidding the child go to save Zelda. He’d known he was dying, he’d known Link was scared, but at that little obedient nod, he’d also known something more: 

  His death would leave Link the last of their bloodline, and a prophecy given to a queen long ago had once said that it would be the last of them that would face Ganon when next he emerged. Looking at eyes the same as Loretta’s own, albeit far kinder, he’d found himself reminded of those words, and sickeningly certain that he was witnessing the birth of that hero. His little Link who wanted to be a farmer, who didn’t know how to fight and who was still so tiny, so young, was going to become the Hero of Hyrule. 

  Though he’d been bleeding out as they spoke, he’s rather certain it was heartbreak that had been his undoing, not the wound in his side, and he’d drawn his final breath to the sound of sniffled tears. 

  Yet, it seemed his eyes had only just closed before they were opening again, pain gone and so too his young charge. At first, he’d thought perhaps he’d struck his head somehow and dreamed the whole thing, but both sword and shield were gone as well, although when he reached the end of the sewer system the prison was quiet, empty of any princess, and when he’d turned back and returned to the outside world, not only was it daylight, but it was spring. 

  It had been a late autumn storm that he’d traveled through to reach the castle. 

  He’d thought, hoped, that it was some trick, but when he’d hurried along back towards town, to the house, everyone he passed seemed to think nothing at all of the fact that they were plowing fields and making ready for a planting. They were preparing for a new year of work, as though the winter itself wasn’t supposed to be coming, as though it had already happened! And there were still bits of snow lying about. There was a dampness to the ground of a fresh fallen rain. The world itself seemed insistent it tell him that he was wrong. But if he was, then where had the time gone, and what had happened? Where was Link and why was his side unmarred as though never an ax had plowed through it? 

  His feet had all but flown down the paths, paying little or no mind to those he passed or the startled shouts they sent his way. His goal had been set; his destination desperately darted towards. 

  The house looked entirely normal when he’d finally reached it. The orchard was beginning to brighten, not yet blooming, still expecting another snap of cold before the season truly sprung, but they were well along to blossoming. The path was clear, nothing and no one on it, and when he’d come to the door, he’d found it locked up tight. As it should be, as he’d left it, as he’d taught Link to leave it. He still had his key with him even though his sword was missing, and though his hands trembled he’d still managed to fish it out and, with some struggle, had gotten it into the lock. 

  The house looked the same as it had when he left. Clean as a whistle because a soldier’s training still lingered with him even after eight years and that expectation was one that he’d taught Link to hold himself to as well. Their beds were made sloppily, as though the boy had tried to do it for him after he’d left and maybe given up after, or else simply been unable to see, from his height, how crookedly the blankets had been lain. Most notably though, Aflon had noted, there wasn’t much in the way of dust. There wasn’t much in the way of dirt. The only difference that he found was that the pot, which he kept by the door for spare rupees, was empty. 

  His breath had evened some at that. A clean house meant someone had minded it, and missing rupees were nothing if it meant Link hadn’t been left to starve in the unidentified period of time where Aflon had been absent. 

  Or so he had thought. 

  It was two days later, two days he’d spent searching the whole neighborhood, quite at the end of his rope in fear as Link hadn’t been seen at all in that time, when at last he’d laid eyes on his nephew. 

  Or rather, when he’d met the hero. 

  Because the wary creature that entered the cottage door and froze, hand on a sword and dark eyes so large in a thin face, was not his nephew. Because his nephew would have run to him with maybe a few tears or a cheer, jumping into his arms with a hug rather than start and draw a blade the moment Aflon made a motion towards him. 

  Link didn’t fear him. 

  The boy who came to him in Link’s stead did. 

  When he voiced his worries to the women who’d helped to mind the lad over the years, some would say perhaps he’d been taken, changed for a changeling by the forest children, at last getting their hands on a hero to replace their own. Others just shook their heads and sighed, unwilling to explain why. 

  He’d known though that the child in his home wasn’t a changeling though. No, because that child had eyes every bit as much like the late queen. Eyes that knew war, and battle, that bore the burden of a kingdom which dragged on too small shoulders, eyes that Knew, that Looked, and eyes that Saw people for what they were, not simply what they’d claim to be. There was no doubt, looking at that boy, that he was Loretta’s son. 

  But he wasn’t Aflon’s nephew. 

  Link was bright and bubbly, quieter by nature but prone to prattling when the mood took him. The silent little thing that lived in his house, wary like a rabbit hunted and hidden, was a stark contrast. Link liked to travel with him, going to town for any errands and skip-tripping along the path at his side, getting distracted by small creatures and ever full of questions.  

  Not only did the hero avoid going out of the house when he could, preferring instead to stay inside behind a locked-up door and shuttered windows, but when he did go out, the lad was ever scanning the world, ever watching the sky and the path as though expecting an attack from one or the other. He didn’t stray off towards sudden changes, curious ears cocked, he put a hand to his shoulder and looked for a blade. 

  The child that came back to him held the manner and look of an old knight, not a child too young to even be a page, and it disturbed him. He tried though. This was Loretta’s son, the prince of Hyrule, and as he’d later learned, the boy had indeed become the country’s hero. Not that the boy had told him that himself. No, the child in his home didn’t speak, tongue faltering and sounds stuttering before hands would lift to answer questions in as few words as possible. 

  Two of his fingers were crooked, Aflon realized, watching him, heart aching. Two fingers and, in those first days, he’d favor one leg over the other. 

  He wanted to help, but the boy was wary of touch, starting and panicking as a first reaction if he didn’t see it coming and wincing even when he could. He kept a wide space between himself and anyone, a swords-distance, Aflon realized after a spell, although as for the blade he carried, well, that had disappeared after the first few weeks. It wasn’t the sword he’d handed to his nephew though. The sword that the hero held was unfamiliar to him; radiant, beautiful, masterfully forged so that his own blade paled in comparison. His was absent, and the one time he had asked what happened to it, he’d just watched violet eyes fall and shoulders hunch, and immediately changed the subject. 

  It was hard. His nephew looked the same as Loretta’s child, same face, same form, same stature, although time had made her changes too. The boy was scrawny, and though he had hoped his lost rupees meant his charge was still fed even with him gone, he’d come to doubt that. 

  He wasn’t sure what to make of it when, at learning of his own return, one of the neighbors down the road had invited them both for dinner, and the hero child had only stared at his own plate, stirring the food around but not eating. He’d dismissed it at first, but soon it became abundantly clear that the hero would not eat food he couldn’t watch being prepared, not unless it was a meal offered by Aflon himself, and, to his own surprise, Dolly, the village elder’s wife. 

  Somehow, both she, Dolly, and Sahasralah, the elder, were the only ones who seemed unaffected by how his charge had changed. In fact, more than once, Aflon would find himself watching, wistful, as the two would speak with or even handle the hero with not a thing done to show fear in response. Simple acceptance met their motions, their words, and at times he’d almost been tempted to ask if maybe the boy that wore Link’s face wanted to stay with them instead, as he seemed so much more at peace in their home. 

  He didn’t though. He’d sworn a vow, a vow to do his duty to his prince, to his queen, and though he wasn’t certain if Loretta’s spirit would haunt him if he failed that, he wasn’t exactly keen to find out. 

  He couldn’t leave her son with strangers, with people she didn’t know or trust. Still, as the days passed, house silent as a crypt and the boy inside nearly the corpse it housed, he’d found the temptation growing daily. 

  At night as he’d blow out the lamps, now knowing full well not to approach his charge in the dark and sometimes fearing to even look at him (because what looked back was a slip of a shade with eyes glinting red like a rabbit’s in the low light of the hearth and by all means hardly human) he’d fight his own mind on the matter. Stay or leave, linger with what wasn’t any longer what he’d sword to protect, the child that wasn’t his nephew but was a hero. 

  Loretta said to protect him, he’d remind himself as he lay beneath the blankets. Yet, small hands knew the touch of blood, and the boy who’d wandered in at his door knew a blade like knights four times his age still hadn’t learned. Lying there at night, he’d wonder to himself, what was there left to protect the boy from? Loretta’s child already had seen everything she wanted to shield him from, so what was even the point, when there was no more innocence to shield? 

  It was that thinking, after weeks, months, that had led to him gathering up clothing and books, toys left behind because the person who would leave with him wasn’t a child but a young soldier, so what did they matter? He’d packed things up, watched the hero slip to his side to help, dutifully but silently gathering Link’s clothes and folding them up with the same careful effort Link always did, ending with the same misshapen result, and tucking them away like they would do every summer for the trip back to his own childhood home. 

  He’d locked the door tight that summer. Shut up the shutters and minded that nothing was left untended, no mess within or without. Long ears had cocked sideways, big eyes watching, curious, but nothing was said with scarred hands holding their bags while he prepared the house for their departure. 

  Most summers, he’d take Link down to Lon-Lon so the boy could stay with his grandparents and Aflon could attend to the heavier tasks of their orchard without worrying over minding the lad or leaving him feeling alone. This year though, after Mother had ushered the boy within the ranch house, shooting him a startled stare over his shoulder, he’d not gone back to the cottage. 

  Aflon Lon had, instead, taken to the road. 

  Guilt ate at him, but he’d known there was no going back.  

  He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t return to the house. It wasn’t home without the laughter of his nephew, without bright eyes and brighter smiles. It wasn’t home without a presence at his side working away at the trees, muttering and talking at times to the birds who’d stop to watch them in their labor. It wasn’t home without Link, and Link- or at least the boy he knew, was gone. 

 So, he’d wandered Hyrule. He hadn’t traveled in a long while, but it was easy to take up again, to wander the roads by day and make camp at night. He stopped in old haunts he used to visit as a knight to see how they had changed, and he’d thought nothing of his wanderings. After all, it was summer; the summers were always free for him to do what he wanted. It was when autumn had begun to show her colors that guilt had well and truly began to build up inside of him. 

  Link would be waiting at the gates of Lon-Lon, watching the road for his uncle to come and bring him home. He knew it wouldn’t be the same eager stare, ears crooked and head rested on folded arms as the boy would perch on the rungs of the fence, leaning his whole weight against it and keeping eyes and ears on the road. The hero child would likely sit with more wariness, but despite all changes there was no doubt in Aflon’s mind that he’d wait all the same. 

  The difference though, the real one, was that this time, Aflon couldn’t come back. He couldn’t. 

  He couldn’t go back to that house, that child, he couldn’t live like that forever, with the shade of what should have been. 

  Mother and Father though, they could handle a soldier boy. They’d handled Banzetta after his first battles, they’d know how to work with Loretta, and if they could manage the parents of his own charge, he was sure theft were the best suited to handling a young hero. Not only that, but they were safe, they were good, and they’d never hurt Link for the circumstances of his birth. They would be better to him than Aflon could be, and given time, he was sure the hero would settle there again, into a life with a knight, a lady, a history of heroes all around him on the walls and swords ready for his hands; the life he’d taken on, but one Aflon couldn’t watch lived. 

  As for himself, he’d wander. He’d travel, he’d embrace the world he’d had to forsake for a small bundle. By winter, he’d gone further south than he’d ever strayed, gone where word of the hero didn’t reach, where peace and simplicity beckoned. He’d meant to resist, but an evening in a bar with a pretty woman at his side had changed that. 

  “Here alone, stranger?” She’d asked, voice thick with a drawl and gaze bold as she’d settled beside him. 

  He’d never been a bold man, quiet by nature, so he’d nodded. 

  She hadn’t been dissuaded, motioning to the barkeep for a round for them both before striking up chatter, asking where he was from? What brought him here? Where was he going? And his answer of course had been that he was from central Hyrule, seeking his fate and unsure where he’d find it. 

  “D’ya have a family?” She’d asked, honest and friendly. “Can’t be easy for them not knowing where you are.” 

  And he’d hesitated, just a moment, before offering a stilted smile and answering “just my parents and a sister.” 

  A sister who’d left, he told her, to marry a man from across the border, who visited at times but was busy with a farm and a family of her own, much like his own parents were even in their older age. He’d said nothing of a nephew, just the same as he’d left out the dead older brother and sister-in-law. 

  He’d lingered in that town for a few more days, and she’d been at the pub each night, coming to join him when he entered and striking up chatter until they were both looking forwards to the evening when they’d happen upon each other. Somehow though, that had turned to arranged meetings, to wandering, to talking, to a kiss that left him speechless and a courtship that left him stumbling and eager like he hadn’t been since he was just a boy. 

  He’d wondered how she hadn’t had a fella before he’d come, but he’d thanked the heavens for it too, especially when he’d proposed, when they’d taken a home together, when they’d made the choice to live life together. 

  It was easy to forget, for a while, in that early bliss, in the whirlwind of emotions, what he’d left behind to find it. He was reminded though when their own little one was born, when a little boy had been laid in his arms and he’d started when blue shone back at him rather than violet. 

  Liza would laugh and tease him, calling him a worrywart when he fussed. She’d say it was like he’d never held a child before; he was so cautious. She’d remind him to relax, when she found him sitting up and watching the wee one slumber, because he was healthy, he was fine, they needn’t worry so much because while babies need care, they won’t break if you breathed wrong. 

  Aflon couldn’t help himself though. 

  He was used to looking for signs of trouble, for any hint of illness. He’d started when their boy had started babbling, started talking, at only two years old. Liza had said that was normal, that they wouldn’t stay babies forever, that it was part of growing up. Still, he’d found himself signing more than speaking with the boy, and more times than he could count, the wrong name had slipped to his lips. 

  Their son had dark hair like his mother, blue eyes like Aflon himself, but it always startled him to see them. It was supposed to be strawberry blonde, with starlit skies veiled beneath. He expected a slip of a child who was quiet but eager, not a loud little thing that ran and darted and climbed and made him panic because Link was fragile! …except this wasn’t Link, and his son was strong, like him, like Liza. His son was bold, loud, like a little boy was supposed to be, not timid and wary like the boy he’d left behind. 

  It never stopped catching him off guard though. Their little Rusl didn’t care anything for books, or reading, or sitting still. He was always off with other children of the village; he was always climbing trees and ‘sword fighting’ other young ones with twigs they’d find on the roadside. 

  He was a normal boy, all told, but somehow that was more jarring, in so many ways, than if he hadn’t been. Because Aflon had never dealt with a normal boy, he realized. Even Before, his Link hadn’t been normal, he just hadn’t known to see it. 

  It was strange, how often Rusl would stare, watching people without those hesitant little falters that Link always had when someone met his eyes. He didn’t pay attention to the little details, didn’t care to watch the sky or the sun. He didn’t care about stars or tiny creatures or pouring over books the same size as himself for hours. 

  The one thing that the two boys did have in common though, was a love for stories of heroes. 

  Link used to bury his little button nose in the volumes of history that told of the Hero of the Four Sword, the Hero of the Skies: the chosen hero. Rusl didn’t read much, but one day he’d come back to their home with Liza after errands, and he’d had nothing on his mind except some story he’d heard about the Hero of Legends. 

  Aflon had paused in making dinner, frowning because he’d never heard of that hero before, because Link never spoke of that title. 

  “Who is the Hero of Legend?” He’d asked, turning to the dirt streaked four-year-old at the door. 

  “He’s who killed Ganon and saved Princess Zelda!” Had been his answer. “He’s so cool, I wish he’d come to our village so I could meet him!” 

  He hadn’t realized, until Liza had darted across the kitchen and scooped up the pot, that their meal had boiled over, or that it’d burned his hand when it did. 

  Rusl and his friends would talk about Link, pretend to be Link, say they wanted to be heroes like him, be knights, be brave. He’d be in the village and stories would sound, gossip between neighbors recounting the latest exploits of the Hero of Legend. He’d killed Ganon twice, he’d traveled the world, he’d saved Labrynna from a witch, he’d fought some tyrant down in Holodrum. Everyone had a different rumor that they’d heard, everyone a different thought on what the hero might be like. Despite all they’d chatter about though, all he could see in his own mind was a boy with heavy eyes and crooked fingers that trembled when he used them to talk. 

  Aflon had gone home that day, after hearing all the chatter, all the stories, all the news that had come down to them from some merchant who’d strayed to town, and he’d told Liza he was taking a trip. 

  “Just for a few days,” he’d said, wrapping arms around her and trying to smile, even though he’d known she’d see past it. “Just to see how my parents are doing.” He’d left out the part about his old house, about the child he’d raised inside it. He knew it was wrong, felt guilt eat away each time his mind turned there, but he’d never let slip about the boy he’d raised before meeting her, the child he’d left behind. 

  Link, as he’d known him, was gone, why speak of what wasn’t there any longer? Why drag everything he’d tried to leave behind into the perfection he’d stumbled himself into? 

  Still, he needed to know, needed to see, and maybe, just maybe, he’d wanted to see Loretta’s boy again, just to assure himself that he was alright, because try as he might, much as he wished, worry still plagued his heart for the little soldier boy he’d left at Lon-Lon. 

  He’d stopped by the house first, if only out of curiosity for what had become of it. It had been years, had the village elders sold it? Left it be? He didn’t know, so he’d taken the road around Kakariko, hood up as he passed old neighbors, boots stumbling some on a path he knew better than that back to his own wife and child. 

  The cottage hadn’t changed a bit. Standing on the path, apple trees shivering in a slight breeze, he’d almost felt a decade younger, almost tricked himself into thinking he’d need only open the old wood door, the door whose key still sat heavy in his pocket, and a bright little face would whip around to meet him, gap-toothed grin his welcome home as feet would pit-patter across the worn-out floors. Maybe it was that image that tricked his feet into walking, following a path altered only by shade of trees grown taller in his absence, their fruit hanging heavy but not yet ready to be plucked.  

  It’d be cider making season soon, he’d mused to himself, hand digging through his pocket for a key he couldn’t name why he still carried. Absently, he wondered if the old press was still down in the basement, if Link- because it must be Link- had minded to keep it oiled and tended, or if he’d left off using it. After all, the former knight chuckled, the boy couldn’t even turn the handle fully on his own, now could he? 

  His mind had been so caught in his thoughts he hadn’t been minding his surroundings, pushing the door open after a moment’s struggle (the key stuck more than it once used to) and moving to enter his old home. He hadn’t expected to be immediately whacked over the head, nor, when he’d picked himself up again, to find himself face to… face(?) with a masked figure. 

  “We aren’t open!” The purple clad individual had declared, mallet in hand, and a small creature with wings- which could in no ways be considered a bird- fluttering about at his shoulders, squawking and hissing something terrible. “And if you thought you could break in, you’re dead wrong!” 

  Aflon had blinked, slowly, and then started, gaze flying about the house briefly. 

  It wasn’t changed, not really. Pictures were all taken down and boxes were tucked against the walls, but the couch, the rocking chair, the china-cabinet, it was all still there, still in the same places, now with new stains and scuffs, but he could recognize them all the same. Really, the only major difference was the desk near the door scattered over with glittering items and objects, little price tags set before them in poor mimicry of a shop. 

  He wasn’t sure if the purple clad figure was meant to be here or not, but given that the house still technically belonged to him, he’d been more than slightly caught off guard. 

  “I’m not here for a shop, I- who are you?” 

  “Who are you?” The apparent merchant had demanded in answer, face shielded behind a hood that looked like it was meant to resemble a very, very odd face. “And why are you here?” Their voice was trembling slightly, but they stood firm despite. 

  “I live- or, well…” he’d paused, picking himself up and dusting himself off, “I used to live here. This was my house- still is actually, I’ve just been away.” 

  Despite not being able to see the merchant’s eyes, he could feel the apprehension in their gaze, weighty as it was as they looked up at him, one hand on their hip and the other holding fast to their oversized mallet. “You must have the wrong house; this one belongs to Mister Hero.” 

  Oh. 

  “You mean Link?” 

  “You know him?” Their head cocked on one side, hood following with a flap of long ear-like attachments. 

  Aflon had nodded briefly. “Do you?” 

  “Of course!” And suddenly the mallet was gone, the figure gesturing about with a cheery chirp now entering their tone. “He’s my housemate! Lets me stay here, keep up the shop while he’s gone and all that lovely sort of thing. Didn’t realize he had a landlord himself though! So terribly sorry if he’s been stiffing you on rent, he’s been out of town for forever now, you see.” 

  He’d nodded. He hadn’t known what better to do. 

  The stranger had introduced themselves as Ravio, offered to show him their wares, but when asked about Link had firmly insisted that he knew nothing more than that the hero was off on some mission for the crown or something and that he was just keeping the house in order for him. 

  It had been all Aflon needed to hear though. Link was still alive, apparently having embraced his role as the hero, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. He must have left the farm at some time, but seeing as he was approaching fifteen it made sense. He’d been rather eager for his freedom at that age too. 

  The kid would be fine, he’d told himself, walking back to Liza and Rusl. Link didn’t need him; he was getting along fine. 

  Somehow, even with the whole trip home to convince himself of that, it hadn’t worked. In fact, now he couldn’t stop thinking about it, slipping more with Rusl, drifting off at home. Liza wouldn’t let him in the kitchen anymore, insisting that he was too prone to forgetting what he’d been doing, too likely to hurt himself because he wasn’t paying attention. She’d begged him to see a doctor, or talk to her, but he’d waved it off, saying he was just tired, just thinking, he was fine; he just needed to rest. He knew she didn’t believe him, but she’d stopped asking at least. 

  If only he could stop himself thinking as easily. 

  But as the months and seasons passed, more worry had grown, more thoughts. 

  Link is turning sixteen this winter. Sixteen years since he’d stood on the edge of the wood with the queen of Hyrule and taken her child in his arms, promising to guard him. Only eight of those years were spent keeping that promise, only half, and he’d startled when he’d realized it. Even now, he’s left wondering, as he braves a storm so like that night that robbed him of his precious nephew, has Link changed? What is he like now? Did he ever grow into those too-big ears of his? Did he learn to look men in the eyes when he spoke to them, to steady his voice and hold himself with surety and not simply just skill? 

 His boy will be becoming a man, and he doesn’t know what that man looks like. 

  Or rather, he didn’t. 

  Because when he comes home, drenched to the bone but with a fresh kill in hand, ready for dinner, ready for him to show Rusl how to skin and prepare it, he finds his house full of strangers, his wide smiling and telling him that they’re travelers, more boys than men, and they need a place to stay but the inn is so far. Of course he greets them, of course he looks at men in armor and offers a smile like he would to his old brothers in arms, welcomes them to his home. 

  He didn’t realize, until just now, how much he missed hosting people fresh off the path he once used to follow, how much he missed their stories or sharing a smoke or a drink with men like himself once in a while, not just farming folk (nice as they are). 

  He’s midway to offering the a warm welcome when his eyes stray to the fire and he finds himself freezing. 

  Great violet eyes, shaded heavy under strawberry blonde, plastered down by dampness and the storm that howls just outside the door, stare up at him. 

  His breath catches. 

  It’s Loretta’s face, freckled and fine, fae-like features and faint traces of scars, upturned nose and steady jaw, but the galaxies that gaze out from violet pools aren’t the queen, even if everything else about the figure at his fire is. No, those stars are all Link, all his nephew, and the weight of that stare, not sure and stern like his sister-in-law but yet also not startled and wide like that day eight years back when he’d first met the hero. 

  In the same breath, it’s the dead queen and the young hero that sits before him. It’s Loretta with accusing eyes, fire burning in their depths as his own words ring in his head, sounding a promise, a vow to do as she’d said, to guard and guide her son, to protect him, no matter what. Yet it’s Link, it’s that little boy with eyes that know a demon’s smile and remember him bathed in his own blood. 

  If his heart had failed him when he’d first put a sword in the hands of his nephew, it’s ache is a thousand times worse as he stares at the result of that action, even as it refuses to cease in an endless flutter inside him as shock touches the face of the little soldier boy he’d left behind eight years ago, but who’s somehow, some way, found his way back before Aflon’s fire, staring up at him with the same startled gaze that shook and broke his world so long ago. 

  His knees hit the floor even as Liza cries out in concern, hands fluttering about him, but he can’t lift his eyes to look at her. Instead, he’s trapped in an endless expanse of dying stars. 

  “Link.” 

  Long ears, still too big for his nephew, turn his way at the sound of his voice, the answer coming out breathless and disbelieving. “Uncle?” 

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Session Recap and Alliance Analysis

Pearl opens her episode clarifying she and Impulse did nothing wrong. Finally I don't have to write “get over double life, tumblr” every week.

Yes, another Saturday means another instalment of the Life Series. This session was far more chill and slow paced than last weeks, ironic considering that this week's Wild Card was a perpetual speed increase! Going from a complete time freeze to full hyperspeed. Naturally, this led to about a 7.5 on the madness scale, so let's see what those teams were up to.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Cleo, Pearl, Impulse & Bigb (not anymore ;3 ))

On the topic of Pearl and Impulse, Cleo decides that they will fully enable all of they're future actions. Yes, she might sigh when they talk about all the evil stuff they're going to do, but she's fully on board.

Right about now Scott is probably regretting being team mum for three chaos gremlins as he's already had to instruct them not to give Gem any more reasons to kill them & had to break up the fight that was issued once they all went Matrix mode.

Speaking of Gem & Joel, a new development in the great drama sees Impulse explain himself and apologise to Gem. She doesn't buy it but it's the thought that counts. During this apology Pearl, the attack dog, is ordered by Gem and Impulse to slaughter grian. So while Cleo and Scott go off to make friends, Impulse and Pearl pop over to Rens for some very serious murder discussion, with an eventual “let's murder Grian” party forming consisting of Pearl, Impulse, Ren, Martyn, Bigb, Scar & Jimmy. If even a fraction of these people stick to this next session Grian is pretty firmly doomed.

In other news Scott manages to make allies with the Bamboozelers through several means, including staring at Jimmy's ass. Cleo & Impulse have a little caving adventure and Impy manages to make a working Creeper farm that they may or may not be sharing with Renwood. This leaves Pearl once again building the tower, which is good since she has arguably to much experience in that

While building the tower we get more Drama! Grian and Mumbo managed to get a quick kill on Scott early on the session by digging a big pit under the tower and spleefing him in. Mumbo and Skizz later come back to this trap only to be discovered by Pearl. The Suits try to get her to lure Scott over, but Pearl is far to loyal for that…. But not loyal enough to kick them out, reasoning that it would be really funny if it happened twice. On top of this she negotiated the ability to kill grian without them stepping in, very useful given her current plans & the second spleefing doesn't work anyways, so no harm no foul.

No one would actually agree to luring their team to their Death intentionally… right Bigb?

I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not. He's worked again every team he's been in except Nosey Neighbours. I guess the “B” must stand for “Betrayal”

Bigb pulls the same thing Pearl did only not under the pretence of a joke, when Grian is around to actually make sure his team gets the kill, actually agreeing to lure Scott and doing it INFRONT OF CLEO. This being the second time this has helped to them, Cleo immediately goes off to find Scott to warn him about the traitor…Scott still falls into the trap anyway but that was a skill issue on his part. Bigb actually tries later to gaslight Scott into thinking that he didn't mean to betray the team, which almost worked until he started saying Cleo was the traitor, which obviously Scott would never buy. Oh he also did this in earshot of Cleo so she set her attack dog (Pearl) on him.

Bigb also later betrays the “Let's Kill Grian Gang” and warns Grian about the plan to murderficate him. I guess someone hasn't gotten over Double Life after all.

The Fast And The Furious - (Joel & Gem)

Actually, the fast and the paranoid might be more accurate as while Joel is just off having a grand old time prattling speed bridging, Gem is terrified that everyone is out to get her and doesn't seem to understand that putting your base on the main path means more people will come visit.

Aside from sending everyone they can to kill Grian and disregarding Impulses genuine apology, the team due doesn't really do much themselves

Gem was officially the last person to lose a life though, with no less than 4 people, including 2 greens, having to help kill her.

Also Joel added racing stripes to the car and… it actually made it a lot less hideous, well done Joel.

The Bamboozelers - (Jimmy, Scar & Lizzie)

Jimmy has regained the title as most confident member of this team…scarily confident in fact, just this session he was able to steal a potential kill from Skizz & kill his teammates, get another good kill on Joel using Lizzie as bait, managing to turn his relationship with Joel around to become allies and reaffirming his alliance with Renwood. Honesty 100 IQ plays from Tim all around.

He did die once this session, but that wasn't his fault and was also incredibly funny to watch Martyn bimbo his way through traps made for Bigb and accidentally kill Timmy. Great job everyone.

Speaking of failed traps… oh Scar… he started of strong, absolutely annihilating Etho in slow motion and living up to the villain he shares a name with by tossing him off a cliff, but after that every single attempt to trap someone fails miserably and he's forced into a cheap kill on Grian that results in him calling for vengeance… wouldn't be to worried about that tho considering Skizz and Mumbo's track record.

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Skizz & Grian)

How are these idiots not dead yet.

They get one (1) successful kill this session, spleefin’ Scott. A trap Mumbo tries his luck with several times after this despite knowing the Final Girls already knew about it.

Skizz gets no kills despite Grians efforts. An attempt to build a super TNT minecart launcher is made… on Scars mountain… and Grian spends several.minutes explaining to his worst enemies how the trap works… and then he and Mumbo stand directly under where they know the TNT will land. Yeah obviously Jimmy sneaks in and pulls the lever to kill them.

A second attempt to launch TNT is made, but this launcher is pathetic and ends up being turned into a party game. oh, and then Grian gets hotguyed by Scar. Grian immediately screams vengeance and blows up the reputation board, ranting about how little it meant since he was in good favour… which only proved he never read the damn thing but it's the thought that counts.

In their last hoorah for this session the team goes on a proper hunt The Bamboozelers as they hide in Joel's car. Mumbo sneaks up to pure lava on them… and burns himself to death. He then tries to hypersonic pvp Gem and you can guess how that went. He then joins in trapping Gwm in a big hole and burning her, only for the kill to go to Ren anyway.

These guys are Doomed. Especially because Final Girls & The Family are allied with Scar & The fact that Renwood actively wants to murder them.

Predictions: Grian goes Yellow next session, Mumbo goes out-out and Skizz is somehow still Red.

Renwood - (Ren & Martyn)

We actually covered everything these guys did already, The Grian Murder Crew, Martyn being a trap bimbo, Ren allying with Impulse to make up for beheading him, really the only thing we haven't discussed is Martyns strange choice to make the first 5 minutes of his episode unlistenable

The Tuff Guys - (Etho, Tango & Bdubs

Etho finally admits they're the comic relief. Like any good comic relief, these three stooges spend the entire session failing at everything. Tango fails on the same trap 3 times. Bdubs almost kills himself in said trap. There's more fights and bickerings than you could count on 15 hands and a toe

Oh also Tango also perma-died to Pearl after going invis and being pumped full of arrows.

Honestly it's not a question of if someone dies next session, it's a question of who.

[archive-of-wax]

I don't even know where to start with my love for this post, I've literally been rereading it over and over all day. This is by far the best interpretation of Trudy's parenting I've ever seen. It really captures the complex family dynamic we see onscreen with the twins, both with their mother and each other.

It's easy to focus on Trudy's evident abuse of Bo in the opening scene, but I think this is the first time I've seen anyone really analyse her interaction with Vincent. It's also one of the few times I've seen anyone speculate about his perspective or thoughts regarding his mother and her parenting, and I think you're spot on. Vincent wasn't showered with unconditional love while Bo got constant abuse. He was smothered with overbearing attentiveness that probably caused more issues than it fixed. Helicopter parenting certainly lines up with many traits fans have inferred from Vincent's portrayal, such as perfectionism, overdependence, and an anxious disposition.

I also felt that his perception of their mother wasn't as idolised as Bo's, and would go as far as to say that during his and Bo's kitchen convo I felt a hint of...exhasperation? Even weariness. At Trudy, at Bo's idolised view of her that he seemingly can't reject out loud, maybe even the purpose of their murderplot. I always imagined his feelings towards her to be something like 'I love you but please stop I'm begging you, why are you like this, why can't you be better for us', and I feel like part of that frustration came from knowing that none of the hovering and fussing was ever really for him as much as it was for her to feel better about herself, so any conversation about his feelings on the matter would have been pointless. If not immediately dismissed it would have just caused an argument, and this family has enough of those already, right? No need to rock the boat.

I have also never seen that newspaper clipping about Victor?! Could I ask where you found it? It completely throws loads of backstory theories out the window. Your version makes the lead-up to the murderplot make so much sense too. Bo and Vincent didn't just wake up one day and choose violence for no reason, but rather the pressure slowly built up: their father passing, the mill shutting down and all the jobs disappearing, then the town's inhabitants leaving, and lastly their mother's death. I imagine they found themselves alone in their now dead hometown, feeling washed up, lacking the practical and social skills to set off on their own (Vincent in particular), grieving the most pivotal person in their lives, and fit to burst with rage at the world. With their minds already cracked from their upbringing, and nothing to lose, it's easy to imagine how one thing led to another...Maybe some lost jackass gets a little too cocky with Bo at his mechanic shop, a fight ensues, Bo doesn't quite pull his punches like he knows he should and accidentally kills him. And then all it takes is a 'Yes, I know this is bad, Vince, but listen. You know how you've been having trouble sculpting like mama used to...?'

Anyway yes all this is to say this was a fantastic read! Thank you for sharing your thoughts, hope you don't mind me going on a mad ramble on your post haha. (Also could I ask you to link that study of a similar conjoined case? I've been looking for a real life counterpart to the twins' condition and could not find one for the life of me!)

Trudy refills Vincent’s cereal. He’s 2-3 years old and blind in one eye. He doesn’t need more cereal, he just needs his bowl rotated so he can see the cereal that was left over on his blind side. Not that we necessarily know how Vincent communicates without speech, but she hardly gives him time to answer her question about more before she’s refilling the bowl anyways. This is her approach to parenting her boys in general.

There’s no interest in fixing their actual issues. Rather than help Vincent to see what he already has in front of him, she’d rather add more, inadvertently also adding more onto the side he can’t see. At some point, this would just add to the issue. Overcompensation into overwhelm. Bo is brought in for breakfast kicking and screaming and it’s sort of evident why Trudy puts all her love into Vincent to the point of it being suffocating and unhelpful. Sure it could be a simple case of favoritism, but with the aspect of overcompensation specifically, it seems that she wants to balance her guilt over failing to parent one of her sons by pouring more effort than necessary into Vincent. Rather than giving the extra attention to Bo, it’s refilling a non-empty bowl of cereal.

I don’t think that necessarily mean she loves Vincent more. She finds him easier to parent. Fill the bowl whether or not he needs it because that’s easier than unpacking where Bo’s massive emotional outbursts are coming from. It seems more like love-bombing than genuine kindness. He’s “being such a good boy today,” but the implied part is an unsaid comparison to Bo. As twins, and conjoined twins at that, they’re not independent of each other. Vincent’s behavior exists only to contrast Bo’s, from her perspective. “Fix” his needs, and she can fix them both. Hence, preferring just to duct tape Bo to a chair than help him any.

Then Vincent grows up to become her protege, starting in his childhood but lasting until even after Trudy’s death. Over thirty years have passed since they were toddlers in those high chairs, but Bo gives a hint about why Vince got that ‘special privilege’ to not be as physically abused. “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Only, God didn’t take anything. Victor Sinclair doing illegal, unqualified surgery on his babies is why Vincent lost half of his face. Trudy only uses God’s name and religion as a shield for her own guilt about how her boys turned out. But it’s more likely she included Vincent in the wax business because she again, was dumping affection onto him over and over as her strategy.

Otherwise there isn’t as much favoritism between the boys. In their childhood photos, they both play piano, both play pool and baseball, both get to sit at the table with their birthday cake (without highchairs or bindings) and they play on the floor together. It's not entirely divisive between them, though it’s still obvious from which brother she’s slapping across his face and which brother she’s love-bombing which she’d prefer to deal with. Just not which she actually cares for more. Vincent wasn’t somehow spared from abuse in a house like the Sinclair household.

Interestingly, when Bo tells the story of Trudy and Victor, he mentions that once the Doc died, they were alone. Except, there’s at least one version of a prop newspaper stating that Trudy created a wax memorial for Victor. So this is just a false version of events most likely. Sure it could be that a decision changed, but there’s also the fact that, in the guns and ammo store, there’s a sign that says “Trudy’s Town or Wax.” And Bo tells Vincent, “We almost finished what mama started.” She’s also much older than the Trudy we see in the family photos and articles (even with the amount of cigarettes that woman smoked.) Ambrose is confirmed to have been abandoned for a decade, but to be turned into wax, Trudy would’ve had to die sometime between the abandonment of Ambrose and the present. Else she would’ve been properly buried most likely. The plan to fill Ambrose was hers, it’s just Bo that suggests using real humans (according to his apology to Vincent, he takes credit for the idea anyhow.)

Which makes her boys at least in their mid twenties when she died. In an older version of the script, Bo had killed her and Victor, but knowing it would put them all in foster care, that doesn’t quite make sense unless they were older. So the order of events is, Doc dying, the sugar mill closing, Trudy planning to reimagine Ambrose, and then dying herself.

The reason that’s important is because it’s emblematic of just how much pressure she was putting on both of her boys. And that’s not love. With two mentally ill, abused sons, (maybe three, since Lord only knows how they treated Lester once he came along,) that’s just manipulation. Victor and Trudy aren’t cartoon super villains for being bad to their boys. But when you can’t even just rotate a bowl slightly for your half blind little one, it’s shallow. Trudy has her cigarettes right in the boys faces in the opening and in most of the photos. Smoking was in one study linked to about 1/3rd of conjoined pregnancies, and in a similar case of conjoinment to the boys, one of the twins had lost an eye and had a prosthetic, but with minimal scarring because of the surgery being done in an actual legal hospital. It’s not about God taking anything, or about which is a little monsted and which is a very good boy- it’s about Trudy and Victor both messing up from the very beginning and causing the boys losses, then refusing to take accountability for it. Or, in the symbolic sense, to just do the right thing and turn a damn bowl of cheerios towards your blind kid.

[tickly-trashcan]

Transformers: One Tickle Headcanons!

A/N: look away LOOK AWAY im still obsessed with these silly little robots and i cannot get them out of my head so i wrote this while avoiding my other responsibilities LOL i hope the few transformers fans on my blog enjoy and if you're not a transformers fan read anyway and join the fandom i promise its so fun!!! (ps i might do headcanons for the other continuities as i watch more... tfp fans unite)

Orion Pax

this stupid little guy i love him to bits

he is really ticklish and he is so silly about it

hes such a switch like. he doesnt mind being tickled at all i bet he probs loves the attention LOL but he LOVES tickling other bots like d-16 hehe

he's veeery tickly under his arms ESPECIALLY if you get the seams that connect his arm to his torso that will make him scream. get him there

hes ticklish in most of the normal cybertronian tickle spots as well (dont ask me what those are. they are up to interpretation!) but i think hes also got a pretty sensitive chassis (tummy...) and if you get the little seams that go across his chassis he will be GONEE

hes got a really loud laugh i think... one of those rapid fire squealy laughs yup yup

he squeaks! and gasps! and makes other funny noises! but only if you catch him off guard otherwise he's just laughing lol

he will put up a fight if someone tickles him!!! he will go down kicking and actually has a good shot at turning the tables LOL

d-16 has had those tables turned on him so fast but he never learns! poor dee

like i said before hes pretty chill about getting tickled but he thinks hes literally The tickler of all time

hes very confident about his ler skills bc d-16 is so ticklish its actually not fair but if you put him up against elita he would fold so fast

wiggles his digits at d-16 every fucking chance he gets somebody stop his ass before he kills dee

i think he and d-16 tickle each other a lot without it escalating to a tickle fight or full-on murder (orion is the murderer.)

like they poke each other! all the time!

they're good about not doing it on shift (most of the time... side eyes orion again) but as soon as they clock out its a free for all

orion is pretty teasy but not overly so if that makes sense? hes more taunty than teasy HAHA like he'll say to d-16 "lol why do i keep forgetting how ticklish you are" and dee is screaming

he does not tickle elita. ever. she scares him.

also he tried to tickle her once and she wrecked his ass so bad he could hardly stand up. d-16 never let him hear the end of it either

d-16 will still randomly bring it up like "hey pax remember when you tried to tickle elita haha that was so- AUGH!!" and then orion jumps him

D-16

DEE MY BELOVED GAAAAH

he is ridiculously ticklish because i said so. I don't make the rules. also im right d-16 is the biggest lee on this list

hes also a switch but hes so ticklish its hard to get away with tickling other bots like orion because one poke and the tables are turned!! orion is nice to him sometimes tho and lets him get in a few tickles mwahaha

im pushing my d-16 hip agenda. are yall seeing a pattern with me giving my favs ticklish hips ITS BECAUSE HIS HIPS ARE RIGHT THERE!!! anyways. d-16 has the most grabbable and tickleable hips and his hips should be grabbed and tickled until he screams

hes also tickly on his thighs! and his chassis (more tummy!!)

d-16 is one of those people who will try to keep his laugh in but he literally lasts two seconds before hes giggling. two seconds is actually a generous estimate tbh!

his LAUGH i feel it in my bones hes got massive giggles and its kind of high pitched and hes so embarrassed but its adorable and im so upset about it

like once hes laughing its a much deeper laugh but initially since hes trying to keep himself from laughing he just giggles frantically and its so cute bc its so pitchy

HE SNORTS

he snorts and he hates it but it is literally The best thing in the world and orion loves to tickle him until he snorts

for a week after orion learned what the word "speedrun" meant he tried different speedrun challenges with d-16 (how fast can i make him mention megatronus prime, etc.) and one of the days was "how fast can i make d-16 snort"

the answer is 1 minute and 34 seconds in earth time i aint doing the cybertronian equivalent. google is right there.

when he tickles other bots its crazy tho he can be MEANNN if he gets the chance

like he will taunt worse than orion and hes also a really good tickler methinks.. knows how and when to be more rough and when to be more gentle so he can really drive someone up the wall

once he got orion pinned face down and just. shoved his servos under orion's arms. had him screaming and begging but tbh orion probs deserved it!

d-16 has never tried to tickle elita and does not plan to. he will make fun of orion's attempt but he knows better

i think d-16 was also the first one of the gang to give bee a little tickle!!! got him giggling and actually got him to stop yapping a lil bit hehe but it was fun for everyone

B-127

I will tolerate absolutely ZERO bee slander alright if you beef with him you beef with me get off my blog

bee is almost as ticklish as d-16 but had absolutely no idea until he met orion, d-16, and elita. zero clue.

he knew what tickling was! he had tried to tickle himself before after seeing some bots in a tickle fight but hes never been tickled until d-16 poked at him a bit and he jumped 10 feet in the air

d-16 is really nice about tickling bee.... gives him soft tickles bc he knows hes not used to it and tickles him just enough to get him giggling IM SO UPSET

orion is also pretty nice about it but hes too teasy and bee gets embarrassed (also hes learning abt teases from orion. more on that later!)

i think he's really tickly on his chassis!!! most tickly spot for him definitely... all over too not just tummy part but his sides and hes also got tickly knees! watch out tho bc this dude kicks LOL

he has one of those cackly laughs but also has really sweet giggles and he DEF squeaks i dont make the rules

hes pretty shy about tickling others at first but because hes just not used to being around other bots!! hes been told before that hes too much so hes worried that tickling other bots is going to cause other bots to shut him down... BUT HE LEARNS ITS OK TO BE SILLY!!!

he sees orion tickling d-16 and starts yapping about how hes never been tickled and d-16 and orion tickle him a bit and its really sweet but he does NOT know how to react

"WHY AM I LAUGHING WHAT" "we're tickling you bee thats what happens" "OH THATS AWESOME HAHA IT FEELS FUNNY"

bee definitely likes being tickled but he also loves tickling the other bots... id say more lee in general but will tickle when he feels like its okay to!

hes normally yapping about something completely unrelated when hes tickling someone which is really funny but he learned from orion (BAD INFLUENCE!!!) how to tease people

so! now when he tickles other bots he does the really evil teasy stuff... it hasnt come back to bite orion yet but d-16 is suffering!

Elita-1

ahem... women... women women I LOVE ELITA

okay i think shes pretty tickly but not nearly as much as the rest of them... she can take a few pokes and barely smile but also can you even get a few pokes in before shes wrecking ur ass? not really!

shes 90% ler and 10% lee and yes i would definitely piss her off so she would tickle me who said that not me. i love women.

shes tickly on her knees and under her arms!! good luck getting her tho she is very squirmy if you manage to get her and even then she will fight BACK

she has a really bright and bubbly laugh if she gets got really good and it is so lovely and GAAAAH

she doesnt actually tickle other bots that often its mostly if people piss her off or try to tickle her that she goes after them mwahaha

which is why orion is such a frequent victim of her attacks

she is also one of those people who is either silent when shes tickling someone or is the MEANEST teaser on planet earth and bots like orion have experienced both and he cannot decide which option is worse

she has tickled d-16 and bee before but not nearly as bad as orion... he pisses her off so bad LOL i love their dynamic

shes actually so sweet with bee compared to d-16 and orion like okay elita we get it you have a favorite (hes my fav too i totally understand)

i want to talk more about her as a lee tho bc i feel like... she actually wouldnt mind being tickled that much its mostly reflex and its also cuz she feels like shes gotta be tough and being soft kinda goes against that orz

she keeps this mostly to herself but she does occasionally let bee tickle her more than she would let another bot because she knows hes just a Guy and is too busy yapping about other stuff while he tickles her to be like "wait why are you letting me tickle you rn"

her soft spot for bee... makes me so ill...

she also shows clear favoritism for bee when shes tickling him the teases are so much sillier and shes not as evil in general. for orion pax it is on sight

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Death on drums

Agatha was having so much fun.

Rio watched with a mix of frustration and delight as the woman she loved belted out some seventies covers of her murder ballad, arms spread wide, playing to her invisible audience.

She had not realized until then how much she’d missed Agatha singing. It had been a constant on the road in the days when they traveled together, Agatha always picking up new songs everywhere they went or simply making up her own.

“You’re welcome to join in,” she told Rio once, early on in their relationship.

Rio had only shaken her head. “I like listening to you,” she answered, already well on her way to realizing how madly in love she was with this beautiful, irritating witch.

She had more-than-liked it, Agatha’s voice raised in song on a road in the middle of winter, her breath puffing out in the cold air. She’d never had much of an opinion on music before, but now—

“That’s beautiful,” she said and then regretted it, because Agatha stopped.

She expected a cocky grin of the sort she would have gotten if she’d complimented Agatha’s skill at magic or in bed, but instead, Agatha looked away and gave a small shrug. “Passes the time.”

“Keep going.”

“We should focus on—“

“Agatha, keep going. I want to hear it.”

“Demanding,” the other woman complained, but Rio knew she wasn’t upset, Agatha loved showing off. And she had picked the song back up and it had, indeed, been a lovely way to pass the time.

Once she’d tried singing to Agatha, when the other woman had been fighting a bout of miserable illness.

“You’re terrible at that,” Agatha said, laughing weakly with her head in Rio’s lap. “Who knew Death was tone-deaf?”

Rio only rolled her eyes, preening Agatha’s hair. “…Don’t stop,” Agatha instructed. “It’s nice anyway.”

When she’d been feeling better, she’d tried to teach Rio, but Agatha was a terrible, impatient teacher at the best of times and Rio did not appreciate being condescended to, so after a couple of fights about it, they’d both given it up as a bad idea.

And then Rio had watched from the shadows as Agatha taught Nicky to sing, laughing at his mistakes, praising his natural ear, delighting in making up silly little songs with him.

She’d watched as Agatha weaponized one of those silly little songs, turned it into a lure for her hunger for power and also a hook to hang her grief on, a song sung by an innocent turned to single-minded, deadly purpose. She’d watched Agatha kill with that song again and again, gathered and guided the souls Agatha left behind.

Now Rio played the drums to fight a curse in someone’s fantasy of a place that never existed, listening to Agatha sing like all of their lives depended on it. And drums were a good choice, she liked having an instrument she could hit, because there was Agatha, a few feet away, and she was—

She was so beautiful. Her voice, of course, but also her, showing off, getting into it, secretly having fun. Agatha, enjoying herself as she hadn’t in centuries prior, when her song and voice had only been a means to an end.

Agatha, who had manipulated her only a few moments ago, teased her with promises of peace and one last, big adventure, and then thrown it in her face like she always did, playing with Rio for her own sadistic pleasure.

Rio was going to kill her.

Rio wanted, so badly, to kiss her.

Instead, she played the drums and didn’t point out what a terrible farce this whole thing was, didn’t try and stop whatever game Agatha was playing this time, didn’t take her knife and take what was hers here and now. She let it play out, play on, because she hadn’t gotten to see Agatha have this much fun in centuries and she couldn’t bring herself to ruin her beloved’s last big show. She would be content with watching and waiting until they reached the road’s inevitable end.

Want to read something else? Try the many husbands of Agatha Harkness for Agatha being a complete pain or the Ritual of the Rose for post-show shenanigans

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

i keep thinking about this scene and sydney talking about how all she wants is to cook for people and make them happy and season 2 when sydney says she wants a michelin star and carmy goes ??

like is it 1) her actual dream to have a star and she just kind of didn't think it was possible bc she was consumed with her catering failure and working with carmy made her think it could actually happen

or is it 2) the highest level of success in the food industry but not acTUally what she wants (and what she wants is actually much more in the vein of michael jordan's steakhouse which is not a michelin star place) ??

[musubiki]

danmarch 🐉💎

[terracottakore]

i think false should be able to do anything she wants 💚💛❤️

week one of @shepscapades hermit character design challenge! thank you for hosting this lovely event

[fishareglorious]

i do a light chuckle once i remember hofmann and semmelweis are friends but then i remember semmelweis and marcus' suitcase interaction where they talk about her and i am once again inconsolable about this old woman's death

[lunarharp]

shirahama-sensei reminded me she has a thing for the teacher from pokemon s/v so i randomly went off on an au where qifrey is the professor. etc

[juthemagicalclown]

using a new character in reverse 1999 like dealing 20k+ damage and triggering 19 extra actions while having ZERO idea of how you did that, then trying to do it again and dealing 758 damage in total

[chiropteracupola]

She was a seal, of course, everybody knew it.