#awakening a dormant skill like this

[amaranthdahlia]

for valentines day have this cheesy mini animation of these two lol

[dailyadventureprompts]

So, from a worldbuilding perspective, wizards have schools, right? It's an easy 1:1 to go from the idea of people who gets their magic from study to the cultural touchstone of academia, and that helps us figure out what institutions and cultural norms are like in our setting.

Correspondingly, clerics have temples, place where their connection to the divine was fostered among a community of fatihful who share their devotion if not their magical gifts. If you were in a d&d world and needed someone with cleric skills, you'd head toward a temple.

But what do Sorcerers have? They're usually presented as one off oddballs or magical oddities but if power exists it's a logical consequence of worldbuilding that there's going to be institutions dedicated to preserving and refining that power.

I'm going to argue that Sorcerers have dynasties, an extended family who share the collective potential for inheriting the magical gift of their powerful ancestor(s). Dynasties would likely be closely tied to the reigning power structure, extended privileges and patronage the same way that noble families are in exchange for their marital support. If you were a ruler in a d&d world, having Battlecasters on hand to shore up your powerbase is just as important as having cavalry and footmen, so you want to make sure the people who are capable of passing down their magical gift are having kids so that their heirs can support your heirs.

This puts a sorcerous dynasty in an interesting position depending on how people in your world think that magic is inherited. Is the gift recessive? Do you breed for it or follow your heart? Are you having too few children or too many? How does that factor into material inheritance? What do you do with all the children who don't show signs of being able to do magic? What if the gift skips a generation or two one of THEIR children show signs of sorcery? Can you let them marry into other families knowing you might be giving away some of your power? Could you use that as a political bargaining chip? How do you handle bastards? What's your stance on monogomy? How do you handle fertility issues? Is the magic waning over time or is it just diluted or are none of your heirs just not living up to your potential? Is there some unadvised ritual or alchemy or dark pact you can make to restore greatness to your line or awaken dormant potential? Does intermarriage with other magical practitioners of different disciplines strengthen or weaken the chance of inheritance? Is there a way to bend politics in your favour to ensure you get this infusion of new blood? Is that baseborn adventurer with the sorcerous gifts a threat to your power or a potential spouse for your firstborn?

All these are brilliant adventureseeds that I don't think I've seen explored all that often. There's only a specific type of player and a specific type of adventure that are concerned with court politics/brigerton style affairs of the nobility, but making those nobles into spell-slinging-sorcerers make them FAR more relevant characters for the background of an adventure.

[luveline]

hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home 

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text. 

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me? 

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner? 

What kind of dinner my love  

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken 

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you 

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable 

What’s wrong??? 

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there 

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You don’t have to rush over.” 

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.” 

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?” 

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.” 

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?” 

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.” 

“You’re always good company, you loon.” 

“You what?” 

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.” 

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.” 

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?” 

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Spencer!” you laugh. 

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?” 

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.” 

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.” 

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear. 

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway. 

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.” 

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.” 

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?” 

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?” 

“It’s in my back.” 

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.” 

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.” 

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?” 

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise. 

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?” 

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.” 

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.” 

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.” 

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly. 

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised. 

[orcasoul]

Din Djarin Headcanons:

Touch Starved Din

Warnings: None, just fluff

A/N: Our poor tin can man is so deprived of human touch it breaks my heart. He deserves some love and affection xxx

Word Count: 900

It started so unexpectedly. The odd, accidental brush of an arm or leg while passing each other in the confined areas of the Razor Crest, the delicate meeting of fingertips when passing Grogu back and forth, the playful shove you would give him when he accidentally startles you as he quietly approaches from behind. He'd spent most of his life honing his skills as a Mandalorian, and after years of stealthily hunting people down, approaching quietly is second nature to Din.

He doesn't do it on purpose, but if it means more personal contact with you, then it's definitely worth it. Din can't remember the last time someone had touched him - not counting the physical altercations with bounties or enemies - until you came along. He hadn't realised just how much he needed the soothing tenderness of your touch, something warm and natural.

It had awakened a deep and dormant longing within him, and he'd noticed that the more comfortable you became around him, the more intimate those moments became. Weather it be his hand finding the small of your back in crowded places, or your hand, gently squeezing his shoulder when you bid him goodnight. Din had come to yearn for your touch.

Even through the worn leather of his gloves and the thickness of his flight suit, the warmth of your being would find it's way into his pores, spreading throughout his limbs and filling him with a sense of serenity he rarely experienced. You are like a drug to him. The more he has, the more he wants, needs, craves!

That's why when the faulty wires he was fiddling with zapped him and burned through his glove, he made no attempt to stop you as you removed his glove to inspect the burn. Din's breath gets stuck in his chest as his brain registers the feel of your skin against his for the first time.

Your hands are soft, so soft, skin like velvet, holding his much larger and calloused hand so delicately while applying a bacta patch over the charred area. Thank the maker for his helmet, lest you see how his eyes slowly close in contentment at your attentive ministrations. How can just a simple touch have such an affect on him?

But then again, it's not just a simple touch, it's your touch. Something sacred to him, something that is uniquely you in every way. It grounds him, unsettles him, calms him, frightens him all at once. He can't make any sense of it. Din's eyes open at the sensation of your fingers slipping inside his open palm and your thumb, slowly and ever so lightly caressing the back of his hand, a 'There all better,' whispered lovingly.

That's when he sees it. The longing in your eyes, the small smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth while you maintain a gentle grip of his hand. Maybe you need to feel him too? There's very little Din knows about your past, never pushing for more information than you're willing to divulge. But from what he's been able to piece together, it hasn't been a happy one, and maybe all this time you've been longing for human contact as much as he has.

Din's heart thumps against his rib cage, uncertainty taking root in the pit of his stomach. This is new territory for you both. There is an undeniable shift in the air, thrumming with anticipation. Your other hand reaches for his still gloved one, bringing it to rest next to the other already in your lap, eyes asking a silent 'can I?'

Din swallows thickly, answering with a slow nod. With a reassuring smile, you pull off the remaining glove and place it by your feet. He tries his best to control his nerves as your soft palms and slender fingers continue to explore his hands, tracing over scars that stand out slightly paler against the rich tan of his skin.

Without even realising it, his hands have begun to stroke yours. He marvels at how much smaller they are than his, so delicate looking, fitting so perfectly inside his own. He languidly slides his hands along your wrists and up to your elbows, his entire body alive with electricity and want. Your closed eyes and faint sigh is enough of an indicator for him to continue.

His fingers tremble, slightly as he works his way up to your forearms, then to your shoulders, stopping at the base of your neck. Your next move almost causes Din's heart to stop, as you calmly take a hold of both of his hands and bring them to cup your cheeks, leaning your face to the side so your lips are brushing against his fingers. He could die right now and he'd be a happy man!

He wants you to know how much you've come to mean to him, but words were never his strong point, so he'll show you instead. With a feather light hold on your face he gingerly pulls you to met him halfway as he lowers his helmet, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

Din had once explained what this gesture means in Mandalorian culture, and the fact that you are now returning that gesture confirms what he had begun to hope; That you want him as much as he wants you. Foreheads still joined together, Din whispers "My Cyare."

[nayziiz]

Speed | CS55

Summary: In a chance encounter at a gas station, a mysterious woman on a Yamaha YZF R6 catches the attention of Carlos, a charming Ferrari driver. Little did they know the journey they would both go on.

Warning: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC (Lola)

Masterlist

Chapter 1

As she stood there, the thrumming pulse of the Ferrari reverberated through the asphalt, sending subtle vibrations up through the soles of her shoes. It was a sensory experience, feeling the raw power of the sports car resonate in the ground beneath her, almost as if it were alive.

Impulsively, she turned her head to the side, her curiosity piqued by the familiar rumble. Her gaze landed on the sleek lines of the Ferrari, its glossy exterior catching the sunlight in a dazzling display. And there, behind the wheel, was a figure that exuded an air of confidence and charisma.

The Spaniard seemed engrossed in inspecting her motorcycle, his keen eyes scanning over every detail with a discerning gaze. It was a moment of unexpected connection, two individuals brought together by their mutual appreciation for the machines they rode.

With a casual wave, she acknowledged his presence, the gesture a simple yet genuine expression of goodwill. In that moment, she didn't dwell on the significance of the encounter, merely allowing herself to be swept up in the rhythm of the city streets.

As the light finally shifted to green, she smoothly accelerated, the engine of her motorcycle roaring to life as she merged onto the highway. Unbeknownst to her, Carlos, drawn by the allure of the chase, followed suit, his Ferrari seamlessly blending into the flow of traffic as he pursued her.

What ensued was a thrilling game of cat and mouse, each manoeuvring through lanes with precision and skill, their vehicles dancing in harmony with the rhythm of the road. With every twist and turn, they pushed the limits of speed and control, the adrenaline coursing through their veins fueling their determination.

In her mirrors, she caught glimpses of the sleek Ferrari gaining ground, the distance between them shrinking with each passing moment. It was an exhilarating pursuit, the thrill of the chase igniting a competitive fire within her.

And then, in a daring move, Carlos surged ahead, the Ferrari darting past her with effortless grace. In that moment, a surge of determination washed over her, igniting a fierce resolve to reclaim the lead.

With unwavering focus, she pushed her motorcycle to its limits, the wind whipping against her as she chased after him, the highway stretching out before them like an endless ribbon of asphalt.

After a heart-pounding ten-minute exchange of speed and strategy, she made the split-second decision to veer off the highway, her sights set on the nearest gas station. It was a calculated move, a chance to catch her breath and regroup after the exhilarating pursuit.

As Carlos pursued her off the highway, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins was unlike anything he had experienced on the racetrack. As a seasoned Formula 1 driver, he was accustomed to the thrill of high-speed races, the precision of every turn and manoeuvre ingrained in his muscle memory.

But this... this was different. The chase, the unpredictability, the sheer exhilaration of the moment stirred something deep within him, reigniting a passion that had lain dormant for far too long. Behind the wheel of his Ferrari, he felt alive, every twist and turn of the road awakening his senses in a way that no race ever could.

Gone was the familiar routine of the racetrack, replaced instead by the raw excitement of the open road. Here, there were no rules, no boundaries—just the exhilarating rush of speed and the thrill of the chase.

As he followed her into the unknown, a sense of liberation washed over him, the weight of expectations and obligations fading into the background. In this moment, there was only him, the road, and the enigmatic figure ahead—a tantalising mystery waiting to be unravelled.

For Carlos, this impromptu pursuit was a welcome departure from the structured world of Formula 1, a reminder of the pure joy that came from simply letting go and embracing the thrill of the ride.

As she sat astride her motorcycle, preparing to refuel, the familiar hum of the gas station's pumps reverberated through the ground beneath her. Turning slightly, she caught sight of the sleek Ferrari gliding into the station, pulling up to the pump behind her with a quiet confidence.

With practised ease, she dismounted her bike, the rumble of the engine fading into the background as she focused on the task at hand. As she began to pump gas into her tank, she felt his eyes on her, the weight of his gaze lingering like a tangible presence.

Carlos, unable to resist the magnetic pull of curiosity, stepped out of his Ferrari, his movements graceful and deliberate. Though he tried to appear nonchalant, his stolen glances betrayed a deep-seated intrigue, an unspoken desire to learn more about the enigmatic figure before him.

As she continued with the task of refuelling, she sensed his presence lingering nearby, his gaze never straying far from her. And then, in a moment of quiet confidence, she reached up and removed her helmet, revealing the face that had captured his attention.

With a fluid motion, she released her two plaits from beneath her jacket, the cascading strands of hair framing her features like a halo in the soft light of the gas station. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes—revealing not just her physical appearance, but also a glimpse of the person behind the helmet, the individual beneath the facade.

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she casually placed her helmet on the seat of her motorcycle, her gaze meeting Carlos's with a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Hey.” She greeted him, the word laced with an easygoing charm that seemed to dissolve the tension between them.

“Hey.” He replied, his voice soft, almost tentative, as he returned her greeting with a shy smile, his eyes lingering on her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, the air tinged with a palpable sense of anticipation. And then, with a casual observation, she broke the ice, her words light and playful.

“Nice car.” She remarked, nodding towards the sleek Ferrari parked behind him, her tone casual yet appreciative.

Carlos's smile widened at her compliment, a faint blush colouring his cheeks as he returned the gesture.

“Nice bike.” He countered, his eyes flickering briefly to the motorcycle beside her with genuine admiration.

With the teasing glint in her eyes, she extended an invitation that hung in the air like an irresistible dare.

“I could take you for a ride.” She teased, her words laced with a playful challenge that dared him to seize the opportunity for adventure.

Carlos chuckled at her teasing remark, a warm smile gracing his lips as he shook his head lightly.

“I'm happy with my four wheels.” He replied, his tone light and playful, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

She chuckled in response, her laughter a melodic sound that filled the air between them with a sense of camaraderie.

“Too bad, then.” She teased, her words carrying a playful undertone as she finished pumping gas into her motorcycle.

As she replaced the nozzle and secured the gas cap, the moment lingered, suspended in the air like a shared secret between them.

Carlos's curiosity piqued as he took a step closer, his eyes scanning over the sleek lines of her motorcycle with genuine interest.

“What type of bike is it?” He wondered aloud, his curiosity evident in the way he lingered over each detail.

Her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, a flush of flustered surprise colouring her cheeks as she fumbled for an answer.

“Oh, this is a Yamaha YZF R6.” She replied, her voice slightly breathless as she struggled to compose herself in the face of his scrutiny. Carlos chuckled at her response, a knowing glint in his eyes as he took in the information.

“Sounds fast.” He remarked with a playful grin, his admiration for her motorcycle evident in his tone.

As he stepped closer to inspect her all-black motorbike, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his genuine interest. It was a rare moment of connection, a shared appreciation for the machines that fueled their passion for the open road.

“I wasn't expecting to see a Ferrari Roma today.” He stated, changing the subject as she removed her gloves, the gesture a subtle invitation to continue their conversation.

Carlos's bafflement at the woman's unexpected knowledge of cars was evident in his tone as he posed the question.

“You know cars, too?” He asked, his curiosity tinged with a hint of admiration for the intellectually captivating woman dressed in full riding gear.

“I like pretty things.” She countered, her words carrying a hint of mystery that only served to deepen Carlos's curiosity. She responded with a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief as she offered a simple yet intriguing explanation.

His laughter filled the air, a warm and genuine sound that echoed in the space between them.

“Good to know.” He replied with a grin, his amusement evident as he marvelled at the enigmatic woman before him.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, the air charged with unspoken tension as they lingered in the aftermath of their playful banter. And then, with a boldness that surprised even himself, he seized the opportunity to extend an invitation of his own.

“You don't perhaps fancy going for dinner sometime to tell me more about your... Yamaha XYZ?” He proposed, his tone teasing yet genuine as he met her gaze with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

“YZF R6.” She corrected him with a breathy chuckle, her amusement evident as she clarified the name of her motorcycle. Carlos chuckled in response, his tone light and teasing as he acknowledged his lack of knowledge.

“Precisely. I have so much to learn.” He teased, his eyes dancing with playful banter.

But she wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and with a quick-witted retort, she turned the tables on him.

“Depends. Will the nameless man with the Ferrari pick me up too?” She countered, her words laced with a hint of mischief as she playfully tested his manners. Carlos, caught off guard by her boldness, felt a flush of embarrassment colour his cheeks at his oversight.

“The man with the Ferrari most certainly can. His name is Carlos.” He replied, determined to make amends for his earlier oversight. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she met his gaze, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Well, Carlos, it sounds like you have a date with Lola.” She remarked with a playful grin, her tone light and inviting.

“Lola?” Carlos repeated, a note of curiosity in his voice as he echoed the name she had given him.

“Technically, it's Louise, but everyone calls me Lola.” She explained, her smile widening at the revelation. Carlos nodded as he retrieved his phone from his pocket and handed it to her.

“Your number, please, Miss Lola.” He insisted.

Carlos's insistence drew a warm smile from Lola as she typed her number into his phone, taking a moment to add a playful touch by including the full descriptor of her bike beside her name. With a chuckle, Carlos accepted his phone back, the corners of his lips perking up at her playful gesture.

“Now you have to remember what kind of bike I ride.” She joked, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she watched him lock his screen and tuck the phone away in his pocket.

“It was lovely meeting you, Lola.” Carlos greeted her warmly, his voice tinged with genuine sincerity. “I'd love to stay and chat, but I need to get to a meeting.”

“Nice meeting you too, Carlos.” Lola nodded in acknowledgment, her smile lingering as she watched him climb into his Ferrari.

With a wink, he pulled out from behind her, the sleek sports car purring to life as it rolled past her, leaving her with a sense of anticipation for the adventure that lay ahead.

[k-daydreams]

The Pursuit of Feeling Alive: II. Acting Coy

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: swearing, angst, angst, angst!! Ooc Azriel being a dick?, flashbacks, mentions of trauma

Author’s note: wow wow, thank you everyone for the support! Kinda strayed from my original idea of this fic, but I’m loving it more. As always like, reblog, and please give feedback if ya can! I love all the messages I’ve been getting! It makes me so excited for this! Anyways enjoy and lmk if you want to be added to taglist?!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You stood on the corner of the balcony attached to your bedroom in the House of Wind, gazing up at the remarkable Night Court sky. The stars twinkled above, painting the velvet canvas, while a gentle breeze enveloped you, carrying with it the faint scent of jasmine, a delicate reminder of Velaris' beauty. Aware that this might be your final stay in the city for a while, you cherished every precious moment, savoring the sights and sensations that had become familiar and comforting.

Tomorrow morning marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life—a journey to the Spring Court with your parents and the rest of the night court, where you would wed and live with your soon-to-be husband, the eldest son of the High Lord. Leaving the House of Wind was no easy task, for it had become your sanctuary, but it was your duty to follow the path laid before you. The weight of tradition and family expectations had been ingrained in you since childhood, shaping you into the dutiful daughter you strived to be, hoping to bring honor to your family's name. Sacrificing your own hopes, dreams, and aspirations was not in vain, or so you convinced yourself, fearful of the consequences of pursuing a different path.

As you basked in the soft glow of the moonlight, you allowed its radiant embrace to caress your bare arms, feeling a connection with the celestial bodies above. The gentle luminescence seemed to emanate from your own skin, illuminating the periphery of your vision. Tonight, you felt too numb to dim that light, to suppress the thoughts that consumed you. You had just embraced it all. It had been almost a year since your dormant abilities had awakened, making every fire and faelight burn tenfold, announcing your extraordinary powers. Since then, you have dedicated yourself to honing those powers, training relentlessly while also still excelling in your studies and various skill sets. It had also been almost a year since you were promised to a man in whom you held no interest.

The weariness had settled deep within you, amplified in recent weeks by the wedding preparations and the intense mental shield training by Rhysand. The purpose behind this training was to safeguard Velaris and the secrets of the Night Court from the prying minds of daemati, ensuring no slip of information would jeopardize your mission. Rhysand didn’t hold back with training, pushing you, and when you thought he couldn’t push anymore he found away to break you past the point. No amount of tonics and headache powders could help the pain that raged in your head, even making your body ache. You wished to snap, to surrender to the madness— senility seemed like a preferable alternative to the path laid out before you. You knew better than that.

A rustling sound behind you alerted your senses, accompanied by sturdy footsteps that landed with certainty. Without needing to guess, you knew who had joined you on the balcony, and for the moment, you wished for the company of only your own thoughts. That's why you had taken dinner in your room, denying even your handmaiden's presence. You didn't want your family or the court to witness the turmoil brewing within you. How vulnerable you actually were.

"You've been avoiding everyone," Azriel stated, his voice carrying from the opposite side of the balcony. His massive wings were relaxed hung over the railing, his elbows propped on the ornate material. Though he stood a step away, his shadow slid across the tiled floor, subtly wrapping itself around your ankle in a comforting greeting—a gesture you were too stubborn to admit brought solace.

"I've been preoccupied with making sure everything is ready for tomorrow and the wedding," you replied coolly, feigning detachment.

"You have people for that," he countered, a sliver of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Azriel possessed the uncanny ability to read you like an open book—it was, after all, his skill as the Spymaster. It was more than the skill he had as he has been your friend for almost a century already, and he just knew by this point. He could sense whenever you were distressed, angry, happy, or on the verge of breaking apart.

"I'd like to ensure that all my belongings reach the Spring Court safely," you retorted with a nonchalant tone, your hands resting on your hips. Even if he was right, he was the last person who should be visiting you without a chaperone. The high lord was very strict with orders on who could visit you. Azriel was not one of them.

"Bullshit," he coughed, crossing his arms. You turned to face him, glaring, carefully observing his appearance. Dressed in his customary Illyrian fighting leathers, black and glazed, black gloves concealing his scarred hands, his blue siphons shining bright against your own radiant glow, his onyx hair neatly pushed back, not a strand out of place, and his jawline clean-shaven, he looked as fresh as a daisy, despite his busy schedule.

"Have you considered the possibility that I simply don't want company?" you queried, your tone laced with defiance. He chuckled at your stubbornness in a humorless way, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Your affairs are encroaching on mine at this point," he sighed, his frustration not directed at you, but rather at the fact that you had become a pawn in the grand scheme orchestrated by the High Lord, Kier, and your father. Another piece sacrificed in this intricate game of war, and it was unfair to you. While you remained oblivious to what lay ahead, Azriel had an inkling of the ordeal awaiting you. His spies had informed him about your soon-to-be husband and the nature of his family. He had known the court was everything you despised despite having everything you loved. He knew you were about to become the Spring Court's most prized olive branch and trophy once the night court handed you off, and he couldn’t do nothing about it.

"Sorry if my call to duty is so bothersome for you, Spymaster," your blood began to boil, indignation rising within you. He was upset? You were the one marching toward your sole purpose in life, or so you had been led to believe. It felt like you were going to your own funeral. Yet he wanted huff and puff in annoyance?

Azriel raised his hands in defense as your anger escalated. "I say this out of genuine concern for you, dear dove," he said, his voice gentle. Your heart fluttered at the nickname your friend had used for you—an endearing term that had started as teasing but had evolved into something deeper for you. "I know this isn't easy for you. Morrigan sends her wishes as well."

You scowled, your heart aching for what your family had put Morrigan through when she refused a preordained fate. You wished you possessed even a fraction of her bravery. But you were not her; you were yourself—the Night Court's shining jewel, the rare black diamond that they had painstakingly cultivated and finally gotten right.

"Azriel, what if I can't do this? What if I make a mistake?" Your throat tightened, your body trembling as you fought back the anguish welling up inside you. "I'm so fucking scared," you whispered, a tear escaping and trickling down your cheek. Azriel approached, closing the distance between you, and pulled you into his strong arms. He cradled your head with his gloved hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back, while his shadows gently played with the ends of your hair. The dam burst, and sobs wracked your body as you silently cried in his embrace, finally succumbing to the weight of it all. You could smell the mist and cedar on him, and it sent waves of solace through your body. It was one of your favorite smells, if not the top favorite on your list.

"You're going to do more than great," he whispered, his voice a gentle reassurance amidst the storm. "You're going to be the most intelligent, talented, and powerful woman to ever grace the Spring Court with your presence." He gently pulled away, cupping your tear-streaked face, wiping away the evidence of your pain. His hazel irises bore into yours, and a sincere look on his face as he continued. "Did I mention the prettiest as well?" A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you rolled your eyes, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood. You pulled him back to you, just needing to savor his warmth and presence for a little while longer. He didn’t protest, just rubbing your back as his shadows still continued to play with your hair.

After a while, you pulled away feeling your eyes were getting heavy. "I suppose I should get some sleep. Thank you, Az," you sniffled, your voice still shaky. He nodded, offering you a closed-lip smile.

"Of course, dear dove," he nodded, the moonlight still casting its ethereal glow upon you, making even your stray tears appear crystalline. Retrieving a small box from his pocket, he handed it to you—a black box adorned with a deep purple ribbon. "From all of us. You don't have to open it right now."

You took the box from his hand, your fingers lingering for a moment on his gloved one. He seized the opportunity and pulled you into another embrace, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. Your heart swelled at the gesture. Azriel may have been aloof most of the time, but when it mattered, he was compassionate. You could only hope your husband would possess a fraction of his considerate nature. He pulled away, and you wiped the remaining tears from your face.

"Goodnight, Y/n," he murmured.

"Goodnight, Az," you nodded, watching him as he moved away. His wings rustled before taking flight into the shimmering night sky of Velaris. You allowed him several meters of distance before entering your room. Sitting on your bed, you toyed with the small box, anticipation building within you. Unable to resist any longer, you opened the gift.

Inside, nestled on a bed of purple velvet, was a stunning jewelry set adorned with black diamonds. They were the most exquisite pieces you had ever laid eyes upon. A note was tucked beside them, signed by Rhysand, Morrigan, Cassian, and Azriel:

For our little star.

You had been heavy in thought all morning, memories haunting you, filling your heart with a weird sense of deja-vu. Preparing to leave for the Night Court proved to be a daunting task while nursing a hangover. At least you were staying for another few days, only gathering some belongings to leave with Morrigan when the inner circle left this morning. You wanted to tie up loose ends before leaving the Day Court and returning to the city of Velaris. You couldn't bear to leave Helion clueless on what stood in your affairs at his court; you had left too many loose ends in your life already. This time you were determined to at least end this chapter of your life closed and on a better note than all the others in your life.

The faint smell of the wildflowers and honey from the colorful gardens below breezed through the windows, and light from the morning sun glittered your skin where it was exposed as you moved around your room. You savored the feeling on you as it absorbed through your thin night clothes and robes as you packed. The light was hard to ignore as it buzzed in your veins, the frequency low compared to what it felt like when you weren’t hungover. Your head was already spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and nerves churning about. It was hard to tell whether the flutter in your stomach came from nerves or the remnants of the wine you had indulged in the night into the early morning. A big thanks to Mor, who never allowed your glass to be empty.

You had packed a decent size sack of clothes, but glamoured it into a small coin purse so Mor could easily bring it to Velaris without straining herself too much. Her room was further down at the end of the hall from yours, where she had always stayed in the Day Court (when she had not occupied Helion’s room). Not feeling the need to change out your night clothes yet, you left your room with the coin purse to go visit your cousin.

The day court palace was ethereal and heavenly. Everything from the statues, the molding around the high domed ceilings, the pillars that lined the halls of the palace, to the tiles of the floor were made of marble and quartz. The dome ceilings had murals painted of past day court rulers, great battle scenes from the Great War, and even some of Helion’s closest friends and court members. The halls had endless windows to let the sunlight in with balconies and verandas attached that held sitting areas of gold and champagne colored silk chairs and tables scattered about facing the best views of the grounds.

As you strolled down the hallway, the sunlight embraced your skin, leaving a warm sensation lingering upon you. The rings adorning your fingers glimmered, casting reflections on the polished floor. It was these little details that you would surely miss once you departed—the comforting warmth of the Day Court and the ability to harness your power so effortlessly. In the Night Court, where the moon and stars reigned supreme, the sun’s brilliance was muted, and manipulating light consistently proved more challenging. Lost in your own world and lost in thought, you failed to notice who was walking your way.

“Y/n!”

You looked over and saw Cassian, Nesta, Elain, and Azriel walking towards you. You mustered up a brave face, offering a meek smile. Azriel’s shadows came out of nowhere, swirling and circling up his arms. Almost like they were chirping to him. He subtly shook his arm to rid them, not looking impressed.

“Good morning,” you greeted, tucking your robe closer to your body, trying to cover up a bit more. You couldn’t help but notice the awe in Elain’s and Nesta’s faces as they looked at you. You didn’t think it was because you were in your night clothes either.

“You're glowing,” Nesta said with inquisition, ignoring your greeting. Your skin even through the mesh of your robe shined lightly emanating a soft glow.

Your cheeks reddened and you willed the light down into your being, not doing a great job as it seemed to shine brighter. Cassian smiled broadly, his wings rustling in amusement. Azriel had remained stoic close behind Elain. His facial expression was unreadable, a big contrast to the wonder in the young woman’s face.

“Didn’t I tell you she did that?” Cassian wrapped his arm around his mate, and her eyebrows furrowed together looking at him. She reminded you of a black apothecary cat that hated almost everyone, and Cassian was the stray golden long haired dog that roamed around the streets of Velaris begging for pets and food. It was odd, but sweet.

“I thought you meant figuratively.” She pushed him away slightly, fixing her hair.

“No, no it’s actually literal.” You tried to add a playful tone to your voice in an attempt to diffuse your unease. You felt naked and improper in front of them in just your night clothes. It didn’t help, they were already dressed for the day, all in their traveling attire.

“Intriguing,” Nesta hummed in curiosity.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Elain spoke up. “You’re truly the star they say you are.” You looked at the middle Archeron sister, her features soft and dainty. Her brown eyes are warm like toffee and her hair matched. She had reminded you of yourself many many centuries ago. “I had a lot of time to read in the libraries.”

“I’m in books, I didn’t realize I was of significance.” The statement came out harsher than intended. The feeling of indifference was powerful towards your biological family.

“You are one of the most important court members to exist. Of course you're in the Night Court texts.” Azriel muttered. “No need to act coy.” Though his voice was calm and level, you knew that had been intended as snark.

Your softened gaze hardened as you glared at him, “I’m not being coy, just genuinely surprised because I was also one of the most shunned members.” The air was now heavy with an unsaid tension as Cassian and the sisters looked between Azriel and you. This was the first time you’ve talked to him in over fifty years, of course it was meant to be an argument. Cassian should’ve expected this, knowing his brother's feelings and how your temper got. Knowing how you ended things and the complex history between you two.

“Surprised you’re always put on a pedestal, no matter what your status is?” He jeered. Your could feel your inner rage ignite in your veins. You weren’t some pretty prize or trophy. Not anymore at least.

“Nesta, Elain let me show you the gardens.” Cassian suggested casually. Nesta looked entertained that she got to see the shadowsinger break his mask of cool, but quickly got annoyed at her mate who was pulling her away. Whereas Elain looked hesitant, bracing a hand on Azriel’s muscular bicep, showing her concern before trailing behind her sister.

“We’ll see you back at Velaris, Y/n.” Cassian put his hand on your shoulder walking past you and shooting Azriel a pointed look, escorting the women to the gardens; leaving the other Illyrian male and you alone. You watched as Elain walked away, Azriel’s shadows came out once again alerting the male in front of you.

Your narrowed eyes and the lurch in your stomach betrayed the surge of emotions you felt as you observed him staring after her. That look, the same one he used to give Mor when he thought no one else was watching, the one you used to yearn for—now it made you sick. An insatiable, jealous feeling clawed at you.

“Moved on, I see.” You chided, not being able to filter your mouth. You knew it was a low blow, knowing what you did know, but at this moment you didn’t care. Any warmth you felt from the past night had dissipated and you let your heart iced over once more.

“That’s none of your concern.” He uttered. His eyes a dark hazel as he took you in finally, without the stares of others following. You wanted to shudder under his dark gaze, but you held your composure standing taller, chin jutted out. He stalked towards you until his face dangerously close to yours, his frame towering over you. His steady breath hit your face as he spoke lowly. “Nor are matters in the Night Court.”

You could feel the flames building and intensifying inside you. “Is my appearance not wanted by you Spymaster?” Rhysand said he wouldn’t admit that missed you, but surely this couldn’t be the same Azriel that your cousin had spoken about last night.

He scoffed, “you ran away from us after you were freed. You didn’t even send a letter. I-we had to find out from Rhys once he came back from the cabin!” His smooth voice now gruff from his raising it. Azriel hardly raised his voice at anyone, but when it came to you, he would raise his voice until no words came out.

Your blood was boiling at assumptions he made. “You don’t know what I went through! You won’t ever know!” You exclaimed, feeling your eyes burn tears ready to spill.

“Your right, I won’t ever know.” He said with a scary calmness. “I don’t want to know either. You’re selfish for running away, leaving us. When you don’t want to deal with shit that’s what you do— run. Then what happens? We rescue you from whatever shit show you’re in. If it wasn’t an order from my high lady, I wouldn’t have come last night to your pity party.”

You were speechless, you could feel your stomach drop. Those were choice words he made, and each one was a stab to the stomach. He knew you hadn’t had a choice when you were married off to that monster. Azriel knew it wasn’t your fault that he went off and murdered your cousins. It wasn’t your fault his family was so scared of you for being too powerful so they had done terrible things to you. But he still threw it in your face as if it was your choice. You never had a choice. His face was expressionless again, “but anyways welcome home, Y/n.” His tone was void of any kindness as he brushed your shoulder passing you.

You could feel a couple tears finally slip down your flushed cheeks as you stood alone in the hall. Unsure of what had gone so wrong between Azriel and you for him to act so out of character. What made you want to get under his skin so bad that it only ended up with you hurting more. He had acted the same way before you followed Rhysand under the mountain, when he had tried to convince you not to go. He screamed, shouted, cried, and almost had his shadows restrain you, just so you wouldn’t leave. Now he wanted nothing to do with you.

You choked on the lump stuck in your throat, turning back to go to your room. When Mor was ready she knew where to find you. For now, you had decided it round two of your pity party.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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Taglist: @rachelnicolee @tcris2020

[mrigasiras]

Ashlesha's symbol is a coiled snake. Representing the dormant Kundalini housed at the base of the spine.

When Kundalini awakens, she is pure unconditional love. But what happens before then?

The hypnotic, cat-like nature of Ashlesha is sensual and sexual. It gives someone an innate mastery over astral and sexual energy. This is why it can have the reputation for being manipulative and cold. I have noticed when I meet an Ashlesha dominant person they appear in my dreams.

When the Kundalini wakes up, she purges out all of your attachments, as seen in Purva Bhadrapada. While Purva Bhadrapada is the ability to manipulate with an awakened Shakti, totally removed emotionally, Ashlesha is the opposite. Ashlesha is housed in the comfort loving home of Cancer, and its yoni animal is the domestic cat.

It is also referred to as the "clinging star", and these people manipulate based on their attachments. Whether or not this ability beneficial only to them or to their loved ones is up to the individual horoscope. But the deities associated with this nakshatra are the decadent Naga serpents, with their love of jewels, gold, and fine sattvic food.

In pop culture, we can see this ability to draw things in using sexual energy in Ashlesha celebrities like Marilyn Monroe, Madonna, and Megan Fox. They often times get a demonized reputation for this, but this is the dark nature of Ashlesha. They are the ones who are most willing to undergo plastic surgeries and take up new personas, because of this cold Mercurial nature.

As a male example, Brian Jones from the Rolling Stones was not only a very technically proficient musician, but he also used this ability to draw an exuberant amount of lovers in.

Also, Jackson Galaxy, the My Cat From Hell guy has Ashlesha moon. And his whole career is based around being a "cat whisperer", and helping people to understand how to get their cats to behave. Again, very sensitive and skilled at manipulating energy, and with its yoni animal no less. He is a more positive example, I think.

[bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue]

Beboptober 2024 Day 2: Crash

Thanks to @bebopcrew for the prompt list! This one takes place about ten years before the events of the series, and slightly before Spike joined the Syndicate—I used this timeline from The Cowboy Bebop Attic, which places Spike’s Syndicate years at about 2061-62 to 2068. This fic turned out WAY longer than I planned, and I stayed up WAY later to write it than I'd hoped, so apologies if some of it makes no sense at all, but I had fun with it!

Okay, so technically speaking, Spike didn’t have a real spaceship’s license yet. And technically speaking, this wasn’t even his ship. One could even say he’d stolen it. But did it really count when it was from the garage of one of those crazy Martian billionaires who probably had fifty identical, sleek and newly-purchased ships in their garage? They wouldn’t notice this one was missing at all.

Spike had engaged in petty thievery before, sure, but this was different. This was the big leagues. A ship of his very own—now that he’d wiped the tracking and identification as best he could with his shoddy, hodgepodge tech skills—opened up whole new worlds to him, literally. After seventeen years of being stuck on Mars, hopping ineffectually from city to city whenever he could hitch a ride, he’d crossed a Hyperspace Gate for the very first time and, after some annoying waiting, was by a whole new planet in a matter of minutes.

Once he arrived, it was an adventure in itself to try and navigate the overlarge ship past all the debris and space junk that circled Earth, almost like an old video game. And then he could see it, the pockmarked blue marble floating in space. A whole new planet. Although he was alone, he couldn’t help but give a low whistle at the sight. He wasn’t given to poetry, but he had to admit a sight like this would be breathtaking to anyone.

And the flying itself! Okay, so technically he’d never been in a ship’s cockpit before, but it wasn’t too hard to figure out the controls. He’d driven a car, and the mechanics of this weren’t too different. But flying? It was light-years away from driving.

He loved everything about it: the way the stars raced past him in the cockpit window, the whooshing sensation of freefall in his stomach as he dipped and glided and spun just for the hell of it, the way the ship responded beautifully to his every little touch to propel him faster and faster into the darkness as he whooped in delight. The way no one could find him or catch him way out here. It was freedom, so much more than he’d thought he’d had before on the streets, so much more than he’d even thought possible. It awakened dormant parts of him he didn’t even know existed.

It was bliss.

That is, until he pushed too hard and too fast—or maybe the dumb ship’s controls responded too well—and found he’d somehow fucked up. The ship was rapidly losing power and altitude, careening down towards Earth.

Shit, shit, shit! Spike wrenched at the controls and pushed frantically at all the buttons he could reach, pretty much at random, trying desperately to silence the beeping warnings that flashed all around him in the cockpit. And maybe it slowed down his entry speed a little. But it didn’t stop the warning signs from flashing faster and faster and more urgently, and for Earth’s surface to grow larger and larger below him. And eventually all Spike could do was curl up in the cushy pilot’s seat and brace for impact as best he could.

The ship crash-landed at what had to be a horrific angle, leaving a trail of cratered dirt and debris up until its final resting point. Rocks and detritus rained down, marring the ship’s perfect surface and adding another strain to the deafening noise. Airbags deployed all around Spike, burning against his skin. For the first few minutes, Spike wasn’t entirely certain he’d survived.

Figures. My first-ever real taste of freedom, and I almost die not even twenty-four hours in.

Well, if he really was dead, at least they couldn’t catch him for stealing that ship.

~~~~~

Of course, after a while Spike had to realize that he was, in fact, alive, and unfurl himself from the ruined cockpit to clean up his mess.

The trip had been pretty impulsive, and he didn’t know what, exactly, he’d been expecting to find on Earth, but he had expected to return to his home planet eventually. He knew that owning a spaceship of his own could open up a lot more opportunities to get money and power and a bit of food in his stomach. It could even make him look more attractive to some of the bigger crime syndicates on Mars, even if he still had to start out as a grub doing all the grunt work. At least they’d consider him.

But for that, his spaceship had to be working. And as he surveyed the ship, having extricated himself from the wreckage and now looking up at it with arms akimbo, he figured that his hodgepodge tech skills wouldn’t be of much help here at all.

At least it wasn’t on fire. Maybe a better mechanic could somehow revive it, even if they had to replace all its parts one by one, like that old Earth story about the wooden boat. It would be better than no ship at all, especially if it made him harder to catch by the guy he’d stolen the ship from.

He should be as destroyed as the ship, he thought. He really shouldn’t have survived that crash. Maybe he had a lucky star up there, somewhere, watching out for him.

Somehow, he doubted that.

There was only one thing he could do. He hated feeling dependent like this, and if it didn’t work pretty soon, he may as well pack up and set out on his own—find some decent food and shelter, try his luck on Earth, maybe eventually find a way back home, such as that home was. But for now, he let out a defeated sigh, leaned against the ship’s ruins, and held up one thumb.

He saw rockets taking off in the distance; he heard the distant purr of cars’ engines. There had to be someone willing to pick him up eventually and take him to a place where his ship could maybe get fixed. If his lucky star was still watching out for him. If it even existed at all.

~~~~~

“This isn’t getting fixed today, kid.”

“Whaddya mean?” Spike scowled at the mechanic—Doohan, according to his assistant who’d driven Spike here—an old, cantankerous-looking guy with goggles perched on top of his wild gray hair. Every part of his clothing was either singed or actively smoking. He’d thought a guy like this could bring his ship back to life right away, as if by magic.

Doohan was still peering around the ship with an appraising eye, examining the mangled remains of its dashboard, the hunks of metal that used to be its hull. “I can keep it here and modify it. Or, if it turns out to be truly useless, save it for scrap. But if you were planning to be out of here in an hour and race home on this pretty little number, that’s not happening.”

“But—but the person who drove me here, your assistant—Jimmy or something—he said you were the best mechanic this side of the planet. He said you could work miracles.”

The man snorted and turned away. “Flattery like that is exactly why he won’t last around here.”

Even though the news was a disappointment, Spike honestly kind of appreciated that Doohan wasn’t bullshitting him. And obviously, the guy knew ships. As Spike gazed around the hangar, he saw several ships of all sorts—some that must have been historical artifacts from the early days of hyperspace gates, some brand-new ones like the one Spike had just crashed—in varying states of repair. One, a half-finished model with a slender red body and a long nose, particularly caught his attention. Surprisingly, some sort of looked like what he had originally expected: old relics, nursed back to health. He wondered how many of those could actually fly. He wondered what it would feel like. Already, his hands itched for the controls of a spaceship again, any spaceship.

“It’s been through quite a crash,” Doohan said, squinting up at Spike from the other side of the ship. “Where’d you get a ship like this? Only to junk it up right away?”

Spike had long since learned that the best response to questions like this was to stay silent, so that’s what he did.

“Rather not say? Okay. What’d you do to crash it?”

Simple as possible. “I went too fast.”

Doohan grunted. “Seen that before. Teenage boys who think they know everything. They always think they’re invincible.”

Something about that smarted. It hit Spike in the chest, white-hot on his already-frayed nerves.

Doohan turned back to the wreckage. “They always eventually get cut down to size.”

Spike felt his hands involuntarily balling into fists.

“You think I’m some privileged little rich boy?” he said, and it came out as an unexpected growl. “I sure as hell know I’m not invincible. I’m from Mars, I just got here. I’ve got no family. I’ve been cut down to size plenty of times in my life.” His voice was getting louder, more insistent. “I need a ship, any ship. I can work off whatever debt I owe to you. But don’t go thinking I did this just for the hell of it!” His last words were a yell, echoing in the silence.

Doohan just grunted again, not looking up. Silence fell once again for a while as he fiddled with the inside of the ship, tinkering with his tools. Spike’s breaths came out shuddery, but slowing.

“I think something was fucked up with the accelerator,” Spike said, quieter this time. “It was my first time piloting a ship and I went through a Gate no problem, I could do loop-de-loops and shit, and I guess I went a little overboard. But I barely touched that pedal thing and next thing I knew I was crashing here. I think I could do better with another craft.” He looked up at Doohan, choosing his next words with caution. “Or if I could find out how this one worked. How ships work. And how to fly them for real.”

Doohan inspected a panel of metal sheetwork on the side of the ship, his face inscrutable.

“That was you,” he finally said. “Doing the loop-de-loops in the sky. That was you.”

“Uh, yeah.” Damn. Spike hadn’t been as surreptitious with that stolen craft as he thought.

“And you say that was your first time ever piloting a ship?”

“Yeah,” Spike said again.

Doohan made eye contact with Spike for the first time. “How’d you feel when you were up there?”

“Uhhh…good? Happy?” Dammit, Spike wasn’t good with talking about feelings or whatever, and Doohan looked thoroughly unimpressed with his attempts. He didn’t even really know why Doohan was asking about it, but he could tell there had been something different, something distinctive, about that feeling. He racked his brain for the right word to describe how it had felt, soaring through the stars.

“Free,” he finally said. “I felt free.” He cupped his hands as if around the controls in a ship’s cockpit, and he felt his eyes narrowing in determination. “I wanna feel that way again.”

Doohan nodded slowly, then put his hand on what used to be the hull of the ship. “New ships like this, they tend to be trigger-happy. They advertise responsiveness, they say they’re user-friendly, and then they go way too far with it.” Spike nodded. Reminded him of some people he knew back on Mars. “You’ve got some natural talent,” Doohan continued. “But if you want to learn how to fly a ship right, you have to know how it works. You either work for the machine, or it works for you.”

Spike nodded again, at first slowly, but then with more determination. He could do that. In fact, the thought excited him. Something to fill his days that wasn’t petty crime and rooting around for his next meal. Something that actually felt purposeful. Like he was born for it.

Doohan looked over the ships in the hangar, appearing contemplative. “Been working on fixing up that old MONO racer for a while now,” he finally said, gesturing to the red ship that had caught Spike’s attention earlier. “Now, get me a 3/8 gauge from the toolbox in my office.” He turned to the assistant, who’d been leaning against the car he’d driven Spike in and watching the conversation with interest. “Jimmy, you’re fired.”

“Aw, man,” the assistant said, staring down at his sneakers. “Mom’s gonna kill me.”

~~~~~

Spike had worked for Doohan for a few months now, learning the ins and outs of amateur spaceship repair, not to mention how to actually pilot different types of crafts so they wouldn’t crash. Over the course of weeks, they’d watched ships transform from beaten-up hunks of junk, or broken-down relics that belonged to a museum, to actually usable, sometimes even restored to their former glory. It was a hell of a hobby, but no one could say Doohan wasn’t passionate about it. He worked from sunup to long past sundown, through mealtimes and rock showers and explosions that signed off his eyebrows. And, Spike had to admit, it was gratifying seeing their progress every day and week, bit by bit.

Spike had memorized every tool Doohan owned, where to get or borrow the ones he didn’t, and which ones just flat-out didn’t exist. He was used to getting barked at by his boss, sent on so many impossible tasks and wild-goose chases that he could no longer count them, sometimes having sharp implements thrown at him. (He’d learned to only piss Doohan off when he was holding something soft like a newspaper.) But he’d managed to avoid getting unceremoniously fired, like poor Jimmy. Or quitting, like a lot of assistants in Doohan’s past apparently had.

It wasn’t like Spike wasn’t used to rebukes or harshness. In fact, he kind of appreciated that Doohan didn’t baby him. And he thought maybe Doohan respected that he didn’t crumple under the pressure—although that may just have been wishful thinking on his part.

Still, after a few months of practice, even Doohan couldn’t find fault with the way he flew. (Or at least not very much fault.) The controls felt natural in Spike’s hands, like an extension of himself. He could effortlessly swoop and dive through the sky, at least in Earth’s atmosphere, as easily as moving his own body. And no matter how often he set off from the hangar with a whoosh, or how often he practiced all the proper measurements and calculations to land the way Doohan had showed him, it still felt just as freeing as it did the first time. It gave him a strange, bright sense that maybe he could do more when he got back to Mars. Maybe he could have an actual future.

But it still caught him completely off-guard when Doohan took a satisfied look at the newly-refurbished MONO racer—the Swordfish II, he’d called it (Spike decided not to ask what had happened to the Swordfish I)—and declared, “It’s yours now.”

“M-mine?” Spike babbled, like some sort of idiot.

Doohan nodded quite sensibly, as if this were the only logical option and any idiot would understand that. “You’ve done enough work on it to have earned it fair and square. You know it inside and out. And besides, it’s sturdy enough that it should survive a crash or two.” And for the first time, he flashed a smile at Spike, a knowing gleam in his eye.

Spike smiled back. The ship really was beautiful, lithe and maneuverable but still tough. Not some delicate thing that would crash and burn at the slightest provocation. It had been through some shit, just like he had. And it had come out alive. Maybe it was an old model, but it was his.

The words Thank you felt awkward on his tongue, tripping it up. But he hoped his face would show his gratitude.

Doohan patted the ship’s hull in satisfaction. And okay, technically speaking, Spike knew it wasn’t meant for him, not really—but it felt almost like a pat on the back.

“Why don’t you take it for a spin?”

[teddyniffler]

The Power of Five. The 'something' that was broken in Scott was his link to Flint.

'Something inside Scott had been broken'

Throughout the books, there have been instances where echoes of the Gatekeepers' past lives have reached across the years to their current selves. One of the most important echoes is when Matt's powers first awaken during his stay at Hive Hall, after his first encounter with The Old Ones. His health, strength, and power returned in full, although his power was still not in his control, as soon as he is referred to as 'One of the Five' by Chaos. Before, Matt had been helpless and left weak from his sickness, but once he encountered The Old Ones in his fevered state, it triggering a memory within him that he was once the leader of the Five.

This switch is mentioned a few times, although not directly. It's always a moment when one of the Five experiences an awakening after being triggered by a memory of the past. It's almost like they are recalling their former selves, and even though they have no memories other than their own in this lifetime, something within them remembers the power and strength they once possessed ten thousand years ago.

Jamie was forced rather brutally to be reminded of Sapling. Despite never having ridden a horse, he found himself able to do so once he had taken over from Sapling. He had never wielded a sword, yet he instinctively knew how to use one. The most shocking moment was his ability to recall what Sapling named his sword - Frost - without looking down to read the name on the blade. He knew it from his own mind.

In Oblivion, Jamie is rather happy to see Flint again, both boys being happy just to see the other, even though they may have to separate again. Almost instinctively, Jamie moves to fight alongside Flint, despite having met only once before. Similarly, Flint feels a pull towards Jamie, even though Jamie is not the twin he was born with. Jamie even feels confident enough to say he wants to stay with Flint, his brother. That bond is there, but it's not Jamie who has a bond with Flint, it was Sapling.

Another instance involving Scarlett is when she hears her old nickname 'Scar' uttered by Matt, which triggers her ability to control the storm. She simply needed to hear Matt call her by that nickname. It was a part of her identity, just laying dormant within her mind. While others, such as Aiden and her dad had given her nicknames like 'Scarly', it was never Matt. She needed to hear her true nickname from Matt. The instant Matt spoke her nickname, her forgotten power to command the weather resurfaced.

In the case of Pedro, it was hearing the story of the Inca people and then seeing his own image upon the old disk image of Manco Capac. His past form was named after the sun god, Inti. When Pedro then goes quiet for a few days, it's likely Pedro was recalling feelings of his past life: Similar to what Matt and Jamie and then later Scarlett would have discovered. He was Inti, who rode at the front, leading his people into battle against the Old Ones.

This was what give him the courage to lead his people against Diego Salamander.

Scott is the only Gatekeeper without a connection to his past. There are no callbacks to Flint after Scott was taken by Nightrise. We do sometimes hear Jamie talking about Scott as he was before, such as finding food (Explained more below) and never letting Jamie down, always being the protector. Once Scott was with Nightrise, any similarities to Flint ended.

When Scott was nearly killed by Jonas with a sword, he had no natural reflects, no instincts. He was able to dodge the blade from luck and pure terror, but he wasn't successful and got injured badly. Flint, like Sapling, was a skilled fighter, he knew how to work with a sword and how to defend himself. It's likely he and Sapling had years of practice, as all their past incarnations were all skilled in weaponry due to the times they were living in. Flint was shown during book 3 to be more than capable of ducking spears and defending against swords.

Scott had none of these skills, yet Matt from the past confirmed that the past learns from the future, and the future learns from the past. When the present day forms faced the Old Ones, they should have been equal to their past forms, according to Matt, and this is true for current day Matt, Pedro, Jamie and Scarlett. But not Scott.

Then there's the matter of Matt being their 'unofficial' leader. The five slowly came together, and three of them all turned naturally to Matt for guidance. Matt is confused by this, considering Jamie to be a more suitable leader, both because of Jamie's upbeat and welcoming nature and because Jamie was fighting the Old Ones ten thousand years ago. He was there while Matt wasn't, yet time and time again, everybody looks to Matt. But not Scott. Three of them are remembering their bond with the original Matt. This can be seen in Raven's Gate, Evil Star and a lot in Necropolis. The other four - Which includes Scott pre-Nightrise - are often calling out to Matt to come to them. Inti/Pedro gets a boat to sail out to Matt to bring him back to shore while Matt is stuck on his little island. Scarlett can't wait to go to sleep each night because she knows she's going to see him again (and the others too) when she finally sees Matt in person, she can't hide her excitement to finally be with him. These feelings did not just come from nowhere. The past selves' love for Matt is reaching the present day. This fondness is deep and its rooted in a friendship that spans millennia. It's very clear that Sapling trusted Matt; Matt already knew one of the twins needed to die in order for them to win. Sapling found comfort in whatever Matt had told him and he rode away to his own death, knowing that Matt knew this was the only way they could win. Flint never seemed to doubt Matt, he might have been overcome by grief about his brother, but he was right there, riding on his horse by Matt's side. He never lost faith in Matt, he wasn't angry with him. Matt was Flint's leader and Flint followed him. Scar was the only one to confront Matt, and she regretted it, apologizing to Matt afterward because she felt so bad shouting at him. Matt is their leader, the first of the five. Everybody in the past looked to Matt, the boy who would end the darkness, the one who had all the answers. The current Gatekeepers share this affection for Matt; They don't know why they love him for, he is their friend, their leader, but there's something more there. Pedro who has likely mugged a million people felt instantly bad the second he noticed he had stolen from Matt. Jamie looked at Matt right away and was admiring him and his power, then felt a surge seeing Matt again in the current day. Scarlett followed an echo of Matt without thinking. They all love him. Scarlett sees him and hugs him. Jamie sees him and he's all smiles. Pedro would follow Matt to the end of the world. Scott, however, feels differently. He harbors no warmth for Matt, unable to understand why Matt is the leader when they should all be equals. Scott was quite close to fighting with Matt in Necropolis and the hostility only grows from there, to the point that Oblivion comes and Scott and Matt are on opposite sides. If Scott had access to Flint, perhaps he would be very different to how we knew him.

It is likely the Old Ones may have known something of this past connection. In the current day, they learned about the Five, they know if you kill one, their past / future form would travel back or forward to replace their fallen counterpart. They can clearly see the leader of the Five looks exactly the same now as he did back then. Both Matt from the past and Matt now uses his powers by flickering his hands from time to time, although he doesn't need too. It's a natural movement for them both.

Matt from the past likely knew about the Old Ones looking into how the Five worked, he warned Jamie that if the Old Ones had hurt Scott, he may be different to how Jamie remembered him. Matt from the past knows an awful lot of things (Even sad things) from reading his own book, but that wouldn't have told him that they would be replaced by their counterparts from the past or future. It wouldn't have told him about the doors, about their powers. Matt had knowledge from another source (Likely the Librarian) so he may have known the Old Ones would find a way to harm them in the future.

Nightrise knew of a way to neutralize the Five's power and it's confirmed in the book 'Nightrise' that Nightrise had been taking teenagers with any hint of powers or gifts for more than a year before Matt had even been arrested and sent to Yorkshire. The Five were mostly unknown, living their normal lives (They were watching Matt from age 8, but they needed confirmation he was one of them) yet the Old Ones were actively researching through Nightrise any teens for years for any hints of power. It's not impossible to think they could have discovered how the Five's powers work, what triggers them into waking. It is likely if they remember who they truly were - as seen in Raven's Gate when the entire village wanted Matt locked away because they were scared he may remember his past life - they become more dangerous should they discover a link to their past lives, so they found a way through all the chemicals and electric shocks to prevent that member of the five from rediscovering their past lives. In the case of Scott, they succeed and cut him off entirely from Flint.

He never had anything recalled to him from Flint, no dreams, no...nothing. Even when hearing his past name from Jamie later, it meant nothing at all to Scott. He never felt any warmth to Matt. To Scott, Matt was just any other teenager who was bossing him around and trying to take Jamie from him. He didn't feel kinship to Pedro, he felt nothing for Scarlett and wanted to leave her to The Old Ones, yet Flint and Scar were almost like siblings themselves in the past, all the five were.

The Old Ones, of course, know Flint was the boy riding into battle with Matt. They knew one twin had died, they could see his brother was with Matt. Maybe they didn't know which one he was in that moment, but in the present they knew it was Sapling who had died and Jamie who had traveled back to Flint. They would then know Flint was the one with Matt. Nightrise wanted both twins under their control, but when they got Scott it's quite possible they knew they had the same twin who was by Matt's side in the past. Flint and Matt together led the charge, they would want to destory any echo of Flint inside of Scott, the twin whose loyalty to Matt never wavered, even when Scar's did. Who else better to turn other than the boy following Matt into battle that day.

Scott is the only Gatekeeper who is worlds apart from his past self.

During Nightrise, Flint disappears for some time after the battle. He had gone around just like the other five and tended to the injuried and tried to help the survivors, and one way he did was to find food. It's here Jamie compares him to Scott, knowing Scott would be the one who found food too. Scott (and Flint) were resourceful, if somebody was hungry around them, they wouldn't rest until that person (Mostly Jamie/Sapling) had food to eat. Flint had to go into enemy terretory to find the food, without knowing if there were any traps laying in wait for him, left over from the Old Ones to protect their food. Flint and some others dragged back a wagon to bring enough food to go around.

If you were to compare Flint with Scott here, you can see how unlike they are once Nightrise got Scott.

Scott is feasting at a banquet held in his honour from the Old Ones. He knows Pedro is below him in a cell, freezing cold and starving slowly away. Still he eats more than what he needs, he's even left food on his plate for it to be taken away and likely binned. Scott watches as Giovani sneaks food into his mouth as that boy is also starving. Giovani is the same age as Scott, yet Scott is amused that somebody his own age is so hungry that he will risk his own safety to sneak Scott's left over food into his mouth. Scott thought it was funny. Flint would never do that, he would make sure everybody had food, even if it risked his life. He was at his most happiest in Nightrise when he called out to the last bits of humanity that he had food for them. Scott was like that once too, going to find Jamie food if he were hungry, but once the Old Ones got him, he changed. He didn't even care too much about Jamie in the end.

It's really hard to remember Scott is the same boy who once was amazed over seeing the sky full of stars for the first time.

Your thoughts and views are welcome.

[isa-ghost]

Isa my darling! Happy Birthday, albeit a couple of days early.

Seeing you screech in Philza's streams because Apollo hit you with that dodgeball yet again makes me giggle a lot.

How about since headcanon's for qPhilza's past/pre island relationship with qFit. How they got to know each other, and how quickly they became friends?

Idr if I said this on Tumblr yet but deadass I asked Apollo on my pendulum if qPhil is his blorbo and he said yes. He's been as invested in shit as me and it's been hilarious. I literally have crows yelling at me irl to keep writing rn but I'm answering headcanons first.

The entire time I've been distracted between writing these, crows have been yelling at me about it. Which. Is how Apollo communicates with me when I'm not actively talking to him through readings LMFAO.

Also thank you for the birthday wish :D [desperately hoping nothing else horrible happens this weekend please god]

Anyway qPhil headcanons masterlist let's go

Disclaimer that I didn't know of Fit before QSMP (I've only been in mcyt for 4 years monkaS) so these are gonna be largely pulled out of my ass and a lil repetitive.

These two both have experiences in anarchy and war, they've definitely brushed shoulders a couple times bc of it

They admired each other's work ofc. Phil is a macro scale kinda guy, total annihilation and victory that makes a statement. Fit's more of a micro scale kinda guy, zeroing in on one person or group individually and making their lives hell until the end in the name of surviving a little longer

On that note, I think we all sleep a little bit on the fact that Fit is Also a survivalist like Phil, just in a very different set of high stakes conditions. These two are equally skilled in it and equally sharp strategists

On that note, anyone who knew them from the past would fear the idea of them coming together to create a plan of any kind, especially of the anarchist-fueled variety. If the Federation has done their research right, they should know full well how terrifying this duo could be in an effort to dismantle their authority

Btw by brushing shoulders I don't just mean brief passings by, I mean they've like. Camped out for a night together, temporarily truced for the sake of safety in numbers, etc. More than a few conversations have been had even if the time they've spent together totals to less than a week.

However, even when they weren't actively paired together, they'd still occasionally trade or gift each other surplus resources. It was a genuine kind act, even if it simultaneously served as a reason for each of them to not come after the other. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.

Like why do you think Fit was one of the first threats on Phil's mind in Purgatory. He Knew(tm). And he knew Fit has an affinity for picking off the weak first, like a lion after a herd of antelope. To him, Purgatory was the awakening of a monster who'd been dormant for a long time.

See, present day they're QPR as fuck, they'd never do this now without 10x the pressure Purgatory put on them, but back in the day they took close notes on each other's strengths and weaknesses. Just In Case, yknow? They could very much kill each other. Back in the day they would've if it came to it, no matter how good an ally they were.

Something about how these two used to be so cold and hard to the world. Be it to self-preserve or some other reason. Something about how now they've both softened and warmed after becoming parents. They never could've imagined the other would "weaken" like this, especially back then.

Phil 🤝🏻 Fit - Phil being a historian of the deities/builds of his Hardcore World, Fit being a historian of 2B2T

A lot of this boils down to mutual respect, common interests, and secret admiration tbh. And what's more homoerotic than that?

They're both crisis preppers. Not doomsday type shit, just. Being ready for shit to hit the fan. They both come from places where life is significantly more dangerous than it is in other realms.

The crazy thing is though? Despite the above, they can't imagine being from each other's realms. Phil would LOATHE 2B2T and Fit would hate the absoluteness of Hardcore. Isolation is absolute, death is absolute. There's no wiggle room or margin for error.

With how adaptive the two of them are due to their origins, they could probably acclimate to any conditions. They'd complain about having to, especially if it was inconvenient, but they could. They used to swap tips & tricks with each other on how to improve their adaptability too.

Fit would've 100% been down to join Phil on Doomsday in DSMP. He was thoroughly impressed when Phil told him the story.

[speedyartist30]

Divine intervention pt1 It was fated to return, the ever lasting evil that laid dormant underneath Hyrule castle. The Calamity Ganon. This evil has returned time and time again, but with every defeat it has been dealt with it seemed to give it more strength and fueled its bloodlusted malice.And after witnessing this never ending war for millenniums, the golden spirit Farosh couldn’t standby and watch this newfound malice spreading across the land.

The sparking dragon flew above the spring of courage and through her eyes, the goddess could see the royal guard escort the young princess Zelda through Damel forest. It would of been the fifth time in the last two months she came there to pray to the goddess for help. Hoping to find a way to awaken her sealing power to use against the calamity. But oddly enough the princess has been struggling to achieve this task unlike the ones before her.

*How can Hylia put a child through such hardship without any aid.*

Faroshs eyes lingered on the small princess, her head was held high and her face remained smooth and elegant. But inside, her soul wasn’t at ease it worried the goddess deeply. How can hyrule defend itself once more without the power to seal the darkness?

The goddess hung her head and waved her hands through the water,effectively disconnecting her mind from her dragon. All she could see now was her reflection in the spring and the luscious forest in the spirit plane. She felt useless to only be able to watch the calamity grow stronger every day while her own godlike power remain trapped within her instead of being put to use in the war against Ganon. D*mned by the unspoken rule of diven intervention.

“D*mn you, Hyila. I won’t stand for this. I refuse to watch this land slowly fall to its knees.”

Standing up, the goddess left the spring of courage, she waded through the water with accompanying sparks. She knew she couldn’t do anything for the one’s living. The most she could do was let them have her scales,claws, shards of her horn and shards of her fangs. But that’s only if they can get close enough and have enough skill to line their bow to actually meet its mark. That was all she could give, so she decided to make a creation of her own, a descendant to aid the princess in her steed.

With ease Farosh flew to the sky and retreated for the Riola spring. When she landed she saunter through the water until she was in the middle of the spring. Clasping her hands together she sat on her knees and close her eyes as she prayed for a soul. One to live within her creation.

Her sparks circled around her and the water glowed with golden sparks. She felt her dragon like features beginning to shift and she felt her form change into one of a hylian woman. Tan skin and jewels covered her while flowing hair glowed and fell on her shoulders and back. Thunder filled the sky and lightning stretched across it, but Farosh felt it, the soul that would be sent to her.Opening her eyes the water slowed down as a small blue soul glowed in her hands. She could tell this soul was young, too young to do what she wanted it to. But she knew she could only do so much with divine intervention, so this will have to do.

Giving a gentle smile, Farosh leaned her head down and let her horn touch the soul. She was instantly flooded with memories of the souls life and she saw what led the soul to a early demise.With sad eyes a tear slipped down her cheek and landed into the small soul.

“Poor thing, you were only trying to protect your mother.”

The soul hummed in her hands and held the soul to her heart. Listening closely she heard the child’s name.

“Jay , you have a courageous soul little one. A soul fit for my power.”

The goddess gently placed the small soul into the spring and protectively wrapped her tail around him. The water rippled under the little soul and Farosh took a scale from her tail, a fang from her mouth, a shard of her horn and a claw from her hand. Pain didn’t exist in her plane and everything she took from herself grew back within seconds. The only thing left to do was fuse her blessed offerings to the young soul. But there is a catch, for one to become a descendant of a goddess the soul must accept the offering from a goddess.The soul is never aware of this offer, it doesn’t have a mind to think for its own. It’s decision is purely based on if fate allows a soul to exist once again. The only goddesses successful of doing this is Hyila and Farore. The only evil capable of doing this is Demise. Her power wasn’t nearly as strong as theirs and the chances of her creation being successful was slim to none. But she had to try.

Farosh placed her offerings around the soul and she clasped her hands in prayer again. She stared at the soul longingly before closing her eyes.

*I know what I’m asking of you is no small task. But Hyrule needs a new power to combat against Ganon and his malice. I fear he’s grown more cunning over the years. So please hear my prayer little one and accept my offer to return back to Hyrule.*

Opening her eyes,Farosh watched the little soul dim before a small spark buzzed around it and one by one her offers started to spark as well. Standing up Farosh watched in awe as the little soul consumed her offerings and the blue turned into a powerful gold. The spring water circled the soul in a mixture of colors and the soul began to take form. The goddess floated into the air as the water turned into a sphere, she could see a silhouette of the child. She hovered around ball of water anxiously and right before her eyes the water calmed and slowly unraveled. In the spring, Farosh could see a boy with white hair floating in still the waters.

She did it, she created the very first dragon descendant!

Floating back into the water, the goddess took a tentative step forward, Farosh wrapped her tail around the boy and gently picked him up. Still unconscious the boy head drooped against her tail and she could see two small horns ontop of his head. She looked down to see the boy had a tail of his own,but unlike hers he had white fur mixed with shards that scaled the top and puff out at the end.The boys nails were sharp as the claws on her hands. Farosh brushed his hair out the way to get a view of his ears, he had scales on the back of them and he had earrings along with other jewelry.

Touching the small horns on the child’s head, Farosh saw his ear twitch at the contact, she began lightly tapping his cheek to rouse him.

Placing a hand on his head she whispers

“Time to wake up little one.”

The child’s eyes slowly opened and he yawned with a dazed look on his face, Farosh could see the little yet sharp fangs in his mouth. He blinked at her and looked down at her tail with drowsy confusion. Quiet but calmly Farosh asked her descendant

“Do you know where you are child?”

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

“Do you remember your name?”

The boy shook his head again and his tail whipped against the water and his ears pressed against his head.Her descdeant looked around and tensed before trying to squirm out her hold.Farosh let him go and the boy floated above the water, he immediately curled up and wrapped himself with his tail.

“Don’t be afraid little one. I merely brought you here to guide you to the princess. But first an introduction. I am Farosh,the goddess of lightning and the guardian of the spring of courage. Your name is Jay…”

Pausing she adds

“Tell me Jay. Do you remember anything at all from you life before?”

His eyes slitted,but he didn’t say anything, she wonder if the boy could speak at all. His hands sparked and Farosh showed her hands and did the same. He stared at her green lightning as it wrapped around his gold, Farosh gently held his hands in hers.Lightly squeezing his hands she calmly explains…

“You are my descendant,Jay. You now have a blessed power that can be used against the calamity. Your soul is now linked with mine and you must use this power I bestowed upon you to help princess Zelda unlock her sealing power.Which is why I have to send you to Hyrule to aid her. Once you arrive there you will become a mortal again, you’ll need to live and survive like everyone else. You need to build your strength to be able to fight by the champions side, to aid the one who wields the sword that seal the darkness, protect the princess and defeat ganon. Do you understand?”

The boy pupils smoothed out and a gold glow filled his irises, he uncurled but he kept his hands in hers and gave them a light squeeze.Farosh gave a smile and turned towards Damel forest, it was time to let him go. Oddly she felt herself feeling rather attached to her descendant and a feeling of protectiveness was brimming in her soul. She let go of the child’s hands and held him to her chest and she began flying to the forest. The child stared at her with a slight frown, his head faintly sparking. She could sense the princess’s soul, it was time for them to depart.

“When you return to the mortal plain the memories you’d have of your previous life will be dormant in the back of your mind. You’ll retain knowledge of some things, most likely due to muscle memory,but you will have to learn how to live again. You’ll be weak,but that’s why you must grow strong. As you grow older you’ll have a better sense of your abilities and you have to keep your identity hid-“

Farosh felt small arms loop around her neck and a fluff of white hair tickled the side of her face. Stilling from the contact, Farosh looked at their reflection in Dracozu Lake and she blinked at the sight before her. She unawarely took the appearance of Jays mother.

*He thinks I’m his mother? I guess after seeing his memories I took on her appearance subconsciously. But there is also something else I felt on his soul. A strong love….His mother must’ve left a imprint on his soul. Hmm,your mother loves you deeply little one.*

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, the goddess new she wasn’t Jays real mom but she was willing to pretend if it brought the child comfort. Farosh felt him nuzzle his head against her neck and she knew he must have some memories left of his past. She hoped they were all good ones.Letting him go she had him floating as she placed a hand ontop of his head.

“Your time here will feel like a dream when you awake in Hyrule and you won’t see me again. But if you ever feel alone just remember that I’m always with you. In the sky and in your soul.Now sleep my little dragon it’s time to say goodbye.”

Her hand glowed and her descendants eyes fluttered closed. Backing away Farosh watched her descendant glow into a bright light and in a flash of lightning he was gone.

When Jay awoke it was from something nudging his face, he frowned and turned away from the touch but it persisted and started moving his hair. Blinking his eyes open,Jay feels a paw of a glowing blue creature staring down at him. He didn’t know what it was but bumped its bird like face against his cheek. When Jay turned away again the determined creature hopped around him. Jay pouted at the fact this thing wasn’t going to leave him alone.

Sitting up,Jay watched the creatures plant like ears perk up, he felt his own ears copying the animal but in more so irritation.Jay was still sleepy. Tilting his head, he noticed that he was in a forest and the only companion he had was this bird like rabbit with a staring problem.

*Why am I here? How did I get here?*

Scratching his stomach,his ears pick up a jingle and he looks down to see he had a cuff of jewels on his arm.Jay looked down to see a bracelet around his ankle and he felt more jewel on his ears and neck.Standing up he felt his legs wobble underneath him before something behind him helped him balance. But he could feel it connecting to his back.Turning around he saw a long tail snake behind him, he watched the blue creature mess with fluffy white hair on his tail.Jay held a hand to his forehead and tried to recall what led him to get here, but all he found was white locks on his head.Then his stomach growled. He was actually really hungry.

The boy picked a path and began his search for food. Luckily he found a bunch of trees with bananas, he used is sharp nails to climb up the tree and he tried not to think about how he didn’t remember having these new physical features. He quietly munched away at the yellow fruit while his tail wrapped around him. The blue creature watched him from below so Jay peeled a banana and dropped it towards the animal, it didn’t seem to care. Tilting his head,Jay eyes widened when a arrow bounced off the little thing, it squeaked and ran off as it dropped some blue and green rupees.

???:”I told you it was a blupee!”

Jay tensed when a man emerged from the bushes, he looked like a knight with all the armor. Maybe he was? Jay watched the knight claim his prize when another voice yelled at him to stop dragging behind. Curious,Jay took his fruit with him and climbed down to follow the knight. He kept a distance from him,but he saw a whole group of them on horseback while others went on foot, but the girl with blonde hair caught his eyes.There was a presence around her he could sense. It was like the sight of her trigger some of his memories.

*Im supposed to help her. My mom said that….Zelda has a power that can make ganon go way, but she doesn’t know where it is. I have to help her find it!*

Jays head sparked and his ears perked up as he followed behind the group.They traveled to the spring of courage and Jay could sense a strong familiarity within it. He watched the princess walk into the spring by herself while the knights stood guard at the entrance. It was the perfect opportunity to meet the princess!

Keeping his ears open to his surroundings Jay crawled behind them and used the large plants as cover. By the time he got passed them he found a small hole behind the spring and he could see the goddess statue inside. Faintly he could hear the voice of the princess, he quietly crawled through and peeked from behind the statue. She had her eyes closed and her hands clamped tightly infront of her, she prayed…

Zelda:”I come to you seeking help. I pray you awaken my power to seal Ganon away…Please give me a sign or….”

Jay strained his ears to hear the rest, but she was mumbling into her hands. Quietly, Jay slowly moved from the statue and into the water,he shivered from the cold and lightly touched her hands. Zelda’s eyes shot open and with a startled shriek she fell on her back and loudly splashed the water on both of them. A knight yelled if she was alright and she hastily turned and yelled she was fine and just slipped.Jay blinked the water out his eyes and wiped his face. He didn’t know who she was talking to since there was a cloth behind her so he couldn’t see anyone outside.Jay shook his head to rid of the water and Zelda stared at him suspiciously, he waved.

Zelda:”Um, Hello.”

Jay waved again and the princess gave a faint smile before turning to the statue behind him. Jay followed her gaze,but let out a startled gasp when he cold hands touched his tail. With curious eyes Zelda beamed at him and asked…

Zelda:”I don’t think I’m aware of your race. I actually never seen anyone like you before. Are you a zora hybrid? No, that can’t be true since the Zoras lack hair. Are you a lizalfos hybrid?”

*Whats a hybrid?*

Zelda combed her fingers through hair on his tail while she waited for him to answer,but all he did was frown and tilt his head. He had no idea what she was talking about. She suddenly stood and walked in front of him, Zelda crossed her arms and Jay had to tilt his head up, she was taller than him.

“Where are you from?”

Jay pointed up. Zelda frowned and looked at the starry sky,she didn’t look like she understood him.When she asked again Jay pointed to the sky with a little more enthusiasm.The princess finally understands and quickly fell into excitement. Turning back to him Zelda asked with a hint of hope…

Zelda:”Are you here to help me?Your my sign aren’t you? Is that why your here?”

Jay grinned and bobbed his head, he was sparking and the shards on his tail glowed just like the tiny horns on his head.

“Hel..p…Zel..da.”

His voice sounded hoarse and unused,but he was so happy that he couldn’t help but say it again out loud. He splashed the water with his tail,Zelda laughed and Jay repeated his words more confidently as he sparked brighter, he started giggling and he felt her grab his hands.Jay grinned and showed his fangs while she shushed him with laughter of her own. She placed a hand over his mouth and glanced over her shoulder.

Zelda:”Shhh, I’m happy too,but we have to be quiet here. We have to show respect to Hyila. And the royal guard might hear you. We don’t want that, okay?”

Jay wrinkled his nose at the goddess name, but he complied and signed ‘ok’. He doesn’t remember learning sign,but his body does, so he signed, ‘help find your power.’

Zelda:”You sign? I’m sorry I haven’t learned that yet. I want to learn eventually and I want to study the guardians as well when I’m older.”

Guardian? Jays face must’ve gave away his thoughts because the princess suddenly started going into detail about these things. Apparently there machines that’s going to help them fight back the calamity,which brought him back to his purpose of being there. Waving his hands to stop her explanation he pointed to her chest.

“Fi..nd…yo..r…pow..er.”

Zelda:”Find it? I have it already,but…I just can’t seem to use it.”

Jay shook his head and putting his hands over his heart as gold sparks cracked at his finger tips, he could feel its warmth and energy inside him.Reaching out he pulled her hand and placed it on his chest, he hoped she could sense it and use that feeling to unlock hers.

“Fe..e..l…po..wer.”

Zelda:”I’m supposed to feel my power?”

Jay nodded his head and the princess suddenly looked sad. Pulling her hand away she sullenly looked at him with her big green eyes.

Zelda:”I don’t feel anything.”

*What? But it’s right there?*

Jay shook his head and pointed at her chest, he could see it right in front of him, so she had to feel it. A soft yellow orb was in the center of her chest, it glow was faint compared to his but it was there. Determined Jay held a sparking hand and placed it on her chest. If he could feel her power then maybe he can unlock it for her. His tail twitched behind him in concentration, but he didn’t feel anything and he felt unknown force aggressivly shutting him out. Flinching Jay yanked his hand back he held his head, his tail wrapped around him as he sunk to his knees. Zelda held her hands over her chest and excitedly smiled.

Zelda:”I think I felt something! But I’m not quite sure how to describe it.Lets try again I think-Are you ok?”

*Somethings wrong…*

Jay stared at her soul and he noticed it looked normal just like the knights outside but….No maybe he didn’t try hard enough, he can help her. Standing up Jay reached for her again but his ears rose when he heard the creak of a bow string. Listening Jay heard the arrow cut through the air and he instinctively pushed Zelda down with his tail and caught a arrow nearly inches from his face. With slitted eyes Jay growled when another arrow sliced his arm, he grabbed his arm and his power hissed as the knights rushed towards him with swords raised and bows drawn.

???:”Stand back princess!”

Zelda:”Stop! Cease fire!!!”

Deaf to princess commands Jay distanced himself from her in fear she might get hit,he ducked another arrow and ran behind the statue, he dove through the hole he found earlier. Tripping, Jay stumbled to his feet and ran deeper into the forest. The only evidence of him being there was the bloody handprint he left behind.

This was the little dragon’s first encounter with the princess of Hyrule and it wouldn’t be his last. As years passed by, Jay grew up and became stronger and just like fate he found himself crossing paths with her once again.

[cooking-with-hailstones]

Forever Bound to the Soul of the Hero

Fi's retelling of the Breath of the Wild Memories

(Rated T: Canon typical violence)

For @linksthoughtbrambles

Awakening

I have been asleep for a very long time.

The woods where I was laid to rest have flourished since their destruction in the last war. The spirits of the forest are chittering with nervous anticipation as I spark back to wakefulness. The Great Deku Tree rumbles his warm welcome, even though my awakening signals a portent of doom.

I feel the evil gathering in the land. Even in my sleep, I have sensed the aura of dark energy seeping into the earth, the trees, the wind, the shifting of stone on stone.

It is hard to tell how long it has been between cycles. Sometimes millennia will pass, sometimes only a hundred years.  But every time the evil comes, someone will be chosen to fight back.

I can feel him out there. He sees me in dreaming, and he knows a great destiny awaits him.

It will soon be time. I shall be raised skyward once more.

Ceremony of Innocence:

“ Hero of Hyrule, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness… You have shown unflinching bravery and skill in the face of darkness and adversity. And have proven yourself worthy of the blessings of the Goddess Hylia. Whether skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight… The sacred blade is forever bound to the soul of the Hero. We pray for your protection…and we hope that-- that the two of you will grow stronger together, as one…”

I am afraid.

Much has been lost in the generations since the last champion of the Goddess bore me across his shoulders. I can see remnants of the technology, lingering vestiges that have not decayed over the millennia. But so much knowledge is gone. 

There is no mystery here as to why this spirit maiden is unable to awaken her powers. The Sheikah elders from whom she must receive guidance and instruction in every generation have lost their influence over the royal family. They are only now, through their adept understanding of ancient technologies, able to regain some of their former status. But the king and these so-called priests of Hylia take no account of the Sheikah’s wisdom. Instead, they have her bathing in the sacred springs, without any of the other rites of purification. They have her speaking prayers that carry no meaning and no power. And this blessing she speaks over Link, over my new master… 

This cannot be all there is. There is so much more to do. The hero’s soul has not been tempered, not been tested. While the sacred realm has long been sealed, the Sheikah of generations passed have devised many trials to strengthen our bond. But they are dormant, so it seems that this, too, is forgotten. 

I have been reduced to some mere symbol, a figurehead in this war. 

I am very afraid.

Listening 

“From here, we’ll make our way to Goron City. Then we’ll need some adjustments on that Divine Beast so Daruk can manage it as easily as possible. He’s figured out how to get it to move! However, it’s apparent that we still have much more to learn. But to think, that Divine Beast was actually built by people… That means we should be able to understand how it works and use it to our advantage. 

These Divine Beasts…so much we don’t know… But if we want to turn back the Calamity Ganon, they’re our best hope.”

My master always listens keenly to the spirit maiden Zelda, even though he lacks sufficient technical understanding to truly follow her excited monologues. She has much of Hylia’s wisdom and ingenuity. She is passionate and dedicated to her craft. In some ways, she is the most like Hylia of any of the spirit maidens I have ever encountered. I estimate that, given proper training and access to the correct tools, this spirit maiden would have a 78% likelihood of being able to forge an entity similar to myself. 

The lack of technical comprehension in this era continues to trouble me greatly. The slate the spirit maiden is holding is an invaluable tool, designed by the Sheikah to interface with my technology and assist in the transmission of information, transportation, and a myriad of other utilities that they cannot even fathom. All of these have been designed by the Sheikah to aid the fight against Ganon, and it is only being used at a fraction of its capacities. 

“Tell me the truth… How proficient are you right now, wielding that sword on your back? Legend says that an ancient voice resonates inside it. Can you hear it yet…hero?”

My master stops in his tracks. He cannot, I think forlornly to myself. I can see his thoughts, I am coming to know him little by little, but still, he cannot hear my voice. No matter how much I scream, my master only perceives me as an echo in his subconscious. 

Being the hero is not just a matter of drawing the sword – he isn’t tested. He has not passed through the goddess’ trials and forged the bond with the master sword through the goddess’ flame. His spirit may very well shatter when he confronts the agent of Demise. 

He is angry and sad and cannot tell her. He tries to listen for the sword but no one has ever taught him how, and I am too weak to reach him. 

And even now, I can feel the stirring in his heart. Every reincarnation of the Goddess draws the soul of the hero to her side. Whether friends or lovers, they cannot bear to hold hatred between them. I can feel the way his heart quickens when he has to grab hold of her. I know the thoughts he does not allow himself to think. 

He says nothing. She turns away in a huff, thinking this means he has nothing to say.

Devotion and Resentment 

My master has awoken, suddenly aware of Zelda’s absence from Tabantha stable. This is hardly the first time she has tried to evade him, but over the last few months he has become far more adept at finding her. 

There is a 75% probability that he has deducted that I am the reason he is able to trace where she has escaped, no matter how clever her trickery. He feels it not like the dowsing I used to perform, but rather as an itch behind his eyes. A compulsion that pulls him forward, towards her, demanding that he be near her. It was designed by the Goddess, that their souls should find each other. And I will always pull them together. He can no more stop following her than he can stop breathing.

After a fierce gallop across Tanagar canyon bridge and nudging his horse up to the ancient columns, he finally starts to relax. I can feel the tension leave his shoulders. 

Zelda, however, seems far from pleased. 

“I thought I made it clear that I am not in need of an escort,” she says with great indignation. “ It seems I’m the only one with a mind of my own. I, the person in question, am fine, regardless of the king’s orders. Return to the castle. And tell that to my father, please.”

She was in the process of examining one of the shrines left by the Sheikah monks, meant to temper the hero’s spirit and strengthen him for the trials ahead. These are objects of curiosity for Hylians, and for Zelda in particular, but they are meant to play a vital role. It is essential that the hero be able to access these shrines. Without completing a significant portion of the shrines, I predict a 98.2% chance that the hero’s spirit will break. 

My master takes this in stride. It is hardly the first time he’s weathered such outbursts. He steps in line, always three paces behind her. 

She whirls around. “And stop following me!”

She is so angry with him, all the time.  She does not understand that Hylia’s chosen hero will follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond. He will follow her through time, through space, through any hardship, just to see her safe and the land protected.

She does not yet know that she and the land are one. And he is now starting to realize that his duty, his destiny, is to protect them all.

A Champion’s Compassion

“Ah, well…you certainly got here fast. I should have expected as much from the princess’s own appointed knight.” The Gerudo champion looks down at the sleeping Zelda. “She was out on a survey all day today. Still as the sands now…” Turning to look at my master, her eyes sparkle in the desert night. “So…? Spill it, boy. Have the two of you been getting along all right?”

Quite the opposite, I think to myself. He must have heard the thought, because he winces. 

The champion laughs. “It’s OK… I know. Your silence speaks volumes.” She sighs, looking down at the sleeping princess on her lap . “She gets frustrated every time she looks up and sees you carrying that sword on your back. It makes her feel like a failure when it comes to her own destiny.”

And hardly fair, given how little progress this hero has made in his own right, I think sullenly. They are both so unprepared, so untested. Training drills and prayer are hardly enough to strengthen their spirits. The champions have been through much more rigorous trials to connect with their divine beasts. I am happy to say that Zelda’s confidence in them is well founded. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not like you carry blame in any of this.”   She sighs, stroking Zelda’s hair.  “It’s unfortunate. She’s put in more than enough time. Ever since she was a young girl, she’s gone through rigorous daily routines to show her dedication. She once passed out in the freezing waters trying to access this sealing power. And she has nothing to show for it… That’s the motivation driving her research. I’d be doing the same thing.”

I appreciate the Gerudo champion. She is a formidable blademaster, a dedicated champion, and a wise and supportive presence in Zelda’s life. Far more than can be said for the useless aristocrat that calls himself the king, without a drop of Hylia’s blood to his name. 

“She really is quite…special. You be sure to protect her with your life.” She looks at my master with a piercing maternal gaze. “It’s quite the honour.”

He knows this. I know he dreams of it every night. He knows he will fight and die for her. He meets Urbosa’s gaze, and I sense she knows it too. 

The champion reclines on her cushions. She has done much to make her divine beast a more comfortable abode, befitting a Gerudo chief. 

“The night brings a chill… It’s probably time we take her in. Or...” She smirks as some mischief crosses her mind, then with a snap of her fingers, the desert sky lights up with electricity.

My master stumbles at the quaking thunder and Zelda wakes up, frightened. Neither of them have ever been particularly fond of storms and lightning, even if they don’t know why. 

“Urbosa! What was that?! Did you feel that?!” Zelda gasps, before catching my master’s shadow by the doorway. 

“Wait, what--how did you-- what are you doing here?!”

He blushes furiously, and though the darkness might conceal the pinkish glow from some, Urbosa’s gaze is far too sharp to miss it. She leans back with a hearty laugh. 

“Wha-what’s so funny?”

“Ah, you, my dear.” Urbosa wipes a tear of mirth from her eye. “One day you’ll laugh about all of this.”

I hope she is right. They deserve to laugh. 

Blood on the Sand 

MASTER! I am screaming as loudly as I can. MASTER! DANGER! GO!

He feels my desperation, dropping the bundle of arrows he was examining from a merchant in the Kara Kara bazaar, and takes off sprinting towards the pull that he’s grown used to, the itch behind his eyes that’s always there. But now it is more acute, so loud he must be able to hear the ringing of the dowsing call in his ears. 

He rounds the corner and sees them. Those cursed agents of evil, seduced by the false promises of Demise, and they are chasing Zelda over the sands. They cackle, their wicked sickles glinting in the hot desert sun. There is a cold rage in my master’s heart, and he puts on another burst of speed, drawing me from my scabbard. I brace myself, ready for the battle, as the Yiga’s blade curves towards Zelda’s fallen body.

My master is quick, and ruthless. I feel myself slip through the Yiga’s neck with a cold efficiency as warm blood soaks the edge of my blade.  The body drops to the ground as he wheels around to face the other two. I can sense their fear, and I calculate only a 26% likelihood that they will attempt to continue the fight.  

Sure enough, they scatter and vanish into the desert wind. My master does not take his eyes from them until they are truly gone, only then sheathing my bloody blade and turning towards Zelda. He gives her his hand to help her upright. “Are you hurt?” he asks fearfully. I can feel his heart still pounding in his chest. 

Her eyes. She has never looked at him with any fondness before, but her eyes are brimming with gratitude and care. “ No, I’m fine, I just…” she pauses, and bursts into tears. 

I know Link is thinking nothing of propriety when he wraps his arms around her. I know she is thinking nothing of resentment when she buries her face in his shoulder and sobs, the fear and adrenaline rushing through her body. 

Maybe this is the beginning. Maybe this is how their spirits will grow. Maybe this is how evil will lose.

Laughter

I am not supposed to feel emotion. It was not part of my design. Yet after spending millennia borne by Hylians and getting to know their innermost thoughts, I have inevitably adapted to many of their traits. 

To that end, I am beginning to feel… frustrated. 

“There’s one! Oh! And another! The flowers we have in Hyrule aren’t just beautiful…They’re also quite useful as ingredients for a variety of things.”

Today the spirit maiden and my master are out on a field survey. I am grateful that they are getting along better, and that her resentment seems to have given way to a nascent friendship. My frustration is not with them. It simply irks me to see the Sheikah slate being used like some ordinary pictobox. 

She gasps with excitement, and Link quickly settles down beside her. 

“This one here is called the silent princess. It’s a rare, endangered species. Despite our efforts, we can’t get them to grow domestically yet. The princess can only thrive out here in the wild. All that we can hope…is that the species will be strong enough to prosper, on its own.”

She smiles, sadly, and my master’s heart flutters. He understands her meaning as clearly as I do. Neither of them can thrive here. They know that their destinies are not waiting for them inside the castle walls. 

The prayers, the training, the wasted time, the technology that they’ve only uncovered 18% of the capabilities of… they must feel as frustrated as I do. 

The somber moment is dissipated as Zelda gasps with excitement and lunges forward.

“Is that what I think it is?! Look at this, I don’t believe it, but I actually caught one! This delicacy is known to have very, very potent effects under the proper circumstances. Tada!”  

She opens her hands to reveal… a frog. My master recoils slightly.

“Research from the castle shows ingesting one of these can actually augment certain abilities. We wouldn’t be in a controlled environment out here, but with your level of physical fitness…you’d be a perfect candidate for the study! Go on! Taste it!”

Link makes a truly disgusted face. 

“Oh come now, I’ve seen you eating Goron rock roast. Surely you’re not put off by a little bit of mucus for the sake of scientific inquiry?”

She may have a point there. This particular incarnation of the Hero’s spirit seems to have a stomach made of cast iron. 

With a resigned sigh – he truly cannot refuse her anything – he leans down towards her hands… and the frog leaps straight into his face. He startles, falling backwards on his rear as the frog scampers away. 

Zelda collapses to the ground in a fit of infectious giggles, and soon enough the pair of them are leaning on each other as their laughter echoes through the hillside.

The Question of Destiny

In truth, I do relish sword drills. It is for my benefit as well; learning how my master moves, what his grip is on the sword, the gestures he favours. My algorithms internalize and optimize every movement. As we practice together, we grow closer. Even if he cannot hear me, he knows that I am with him, helping to guide his actions and see that each strike lands true.  

Zelda watches him closely from her shelter beneath the tree.

“I doubt this will let up anytime soon… Your path seems to mirror your father’s. You’ve dedicated yourself to becoming a knight, as well. Your commitment to the training necessary to fulfill your goal is really quite admirable. I see now why you would be the chosen one.”

He stiffens slightly. His father had only died a year ago, and the wound was still fresh. But Zelda seems too lost in her own thoughts to notice.

“What if… One day…You realised that you just weren’t meant to be a fighter. Yet the only thing people ever said…was that you were born into a family of the royal guard, and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight. If that was the only thing that you were ever told… I wonder, then…would you have chosen a different path?”

There was no other destiny for my master. He was born to be Hylia’s chosen.

Not for the first time in my long existence, I wonder at the cruelty of the Goddess’ choice of mortal champions in this cosmic war.

Link pauses a moment before returning me to the sheath across his back. 

“This… isn’t about me, is it?”

Zelda blushes. “I… well…”

He takes her hand. I can feel both of their heartbeats quicken.

“I think…” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I think that no matter who I was, where I was born, whatever was expected of me…”

“Yes?”

“I would find my way to you.”

Prayer and Dedication

It is a unique pain that my master must experience, and thus I experience alongside him. The unique pain that comes from watching someone you love torture themselves for circumstances beyond their control.

These prayers are useless. She is not praying to a Goddess. She is meant to awaken the Goddess within her own spirit. But they still cannot hear me, and nothing I could suggest to my master would have any effect. And so, I sit, sheathed and silent as my master and I ache at the desperation in Zelda’s voice. 

“I come seeking help, regarding this power that has been handed down over time. Prayer will awaken my power to seal Ganon away… Or so I’ve been told all my life. 

And yet… Grandmother heard them--the voices from the spirit realm. And Mother said her own power would develop within me. But I don’t hear, or feel anything! 

Father has told me time and time again… He always says, “Quit wasting your time playing at being a scholar!” Curse you…”

Holy water splashes against clenched fists. 

“I’ve spent every day of my life dedicated to praying! I’ve pleaded to the spirits tied to the ancient gods. And still the holy powers have proven deaf to my devotion.  Please just tell me, what is it…? What’s wrong with me?!”

Link’s composure finally cracks. I am truthfully relieved when he drops me down on the stones and splashes into the spring, wrapping a sobbing Zelda in his embrace.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. We’ll figure this out, together. I promise, Zelda, I promise…” He strokes her hair, and she weeps all the more.

I cannot weep, it is not in my design. I should not feel emotion, but despite my programming, I have begun to understand something of grief. Oh, children, what have we done to you?

They may not succeed. They may not have the strength and ability to fight off the coming Calamity. But I will fight back. The Goddess created me to protect and guide her chosen. I must do whatever I can. 

Calamity and Corruption

The final spring. The last hope they had. And just as I had predicted, nothing happened. 

The champions all do their best to conceal their dismay, offering words of encouragement to Zelda, but to little avail. The Zora champion starts to say something, but –

The ground shakes.

The sky darkens.

The Rito champion launches himself skyward to see what’s taking place, but before I even hear his horrified gasp, I know what has happened. 

My master leaps forward to support Zelda as she stumbles. He does not need to be told either. Just as with every Hero’s spirit preceding him, he has seen this moment in his dreams since he was an infant. But he is not ready, Zelda is not ready and the Calamity must know this as well. It has chosen this precise moment of despair to strike. 

The champions disperse, each of them racing back to their Divine Beasts. Without the spirit maiden’s sealing power, the only hope at holding the Calamity at bay now lies with the strength of the champions. 

Link and Zelda, now alone, race down the promenade towards Kakariko village. Bolts of purple and black tar seem to be streaking across the sky overhead, the sunset rapidly disappearing behind the dark clouds.

This is unfamiliar to me. What kind of attack is the Calamity readying? I have never witnessed this before. 

They keep running, over the Sahasra slope and towards Hyrule field. The castle is the nexus point. Link must be ready for when the champions reach the divine beasts for their attack. We must try to defeat the Calamity, with or without the Goddess’ power. There is only a 2.6% chance that we succeed, but 2.6% is not 0. 

beep

What…?

beep    beep beep beepbeepbeepbeep

A guardian! Link and Zelda both heave a sigh of relief. The guardians have been deployed from Castle Town to protect the surrounding villages. At least that will provide some measure of safety.

Wait... Something’s wrong.

POW!

Without a moment to spare, Link tackles Zelda to the ground out of the way of the guardian’s deadly line of fire. Without a second thought, he pulls me from my scabbard, leaps forward and drives me straight into the guardian’s vulnerable eye. It sparks, fizzes, and collapses, purple smoke billowing out of its joints.

“What’s going on?” Zelda screams, as torrents of purple-black tar continue to pour from the sky onto Hyrule field and Castle town. “Why did it fire at us?”

Wasting no time, Link grabs her arm and whirls around, sprinting back the way they came and dragging Zelda behind him. 

“Link, no! We need to go to the castle!”

“Zelda, we – ”

A bolt of purple tar slams into me.

“The master sword!” Zelda cries. 

CORRUPTION! 

This is the Calamity’s plan! Oh, Hylia, no!

He has remembered his defeat from 10,000 years ago. He remembered the technology that was turned against him and his armies, and his hatred and malice are now corrupting every element of Sheikah technology, and everything they interface with.

Including me.

NO! I twist through the dark tendrils reaching through my circuitry. YOU WILL NOT TOUCH ME. I WAS CREATED BY THE GODDESS HYLIA, AND I WILL NOT YIELD TO YOU, FOUL AGENT OF DEMISE. 

I push back along these tendrils of malice, burning them away with the divine light of the Goddess. I reach through the telepathic link I share with the Sheikah technology, cutting and blazing through the spreading rot. The Sheikah slate, the towers, the shrines, all the creations designed to interface with the Hero’s soul, I can still connect with them! With every scrap of energy I have left, I burn away the malice creeping through their networks.

The malice fights back, the darkness spreading… but I will not yield.

Exhaustion and Despair 

The forest near the bottomless swamp is dark and twisted, the tangled roots and mud are treacherous in the shadow of the storm. It is almost dawn, they haven’t slept, they are still running.  I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, their stamina depleting. I too am exhausted - still fighting against the malice, trying to keep it at bay. I cannot help them any more than this. 

Zelda stumbles and cries out, falling to her knees on the path made slick by torrential rains. 

“How… How did it come to this?”

My master kneels beside her, desperate to move along, but reticent to force her to keep running. 

“The Divine Beasts…The Guardians… They’ve all turned against us. It was Calamity Ganon. It turned them all against us!”

She is weeping in earnest now, rivers of tears meeting the raindrops already pouring down her face.

“And everyone--Mipha, Urbosa, Revali and Daruk… They’re all trapped in those things… It’s all my fault! Our only hope for defeating Calamity Ganon is lost, all because I couldn’t harness this cursed power! Everything--everything I’ve done up until now… It was all for nothing. So I really am just a failure! All my friends, the entire kingdom, my father most of all… I tried, and I failed them all… I’ve left them all to die…

“Zelda…” he grips her tighter. “Zelda, we have to go. There may be soldiers who can protect you at Fort Hateno. We need to go.”

She nods miserably, taking his arm and standing up again. They turn to the misty shadows, and keep running.

I truly had hoped their love might be enough. 

Hylia Reborn

They are tracking us. Some corruption of their programming has locked them to our signal. Perhaps it is me they are tracking, a beacon of the Goddess’ light flickering amid the swirling chaos of malice.

Wouldn’t that be ironic. 

The guardians homing in on us are coming thick and fast. While I am able to target their weak points with a respectable accuracy, I was made to cut through Demise’s creations - beings of corrupted flesh. I was never made to fight these machines. 

Link is exhausted. Almost two days with little sleep and hardly any food, he has taken more than his fair share of blows. There are gashes across his legs and arms that are oozing blood, and three of his ribs are broken. I predict that he will lose consciousness in less than four minutes. 

But Zelda is unharmed, for now. Nothing else matters to him at this moment.

He stabs me through the eye of yet another guardian, staggering backwards and leaning on me heavily.

“Link, save yourself! Go! I’ll be fine! Don’t worry about me! Run!”

He can hardly hear her through the blood rushing in his ears, and the incessant beeping as they scan for us. I don’t know what to do! The Goddess left no instructions for this. I have never witnessed my master die. 

Another guardian has spotted us through the husks of its fellows. My master is so tired, and I have no strength to give him.

And yet Link pulls me up once more, readying himself and covering Zelda with his body, as the laser flares to life. 

This is it. 

Hylia, forgive me. I have failed you.

“NO!”

Zelda leaps forward, throwing herself in front of Link, hands raised in desperation. What is she -?

The world explodes with golden light.

Link winces, but does not shield his eyes. Nor would I, if I had eyes to behold this sight. The light radiates from her, guardians exploding and collapsing in its wake. 

She did it. Hylia has come into her own!

“Was… Was that…? The power?” she whispers in the sudden quiet that follows as the corrupted machines power down.

You did it, Zel. he thinks, and seeing her safe, he finally yields to the pain. 

She whirls around as he falls. “ No, no…Link! Get up!” She lifts him into her arms, hardly noticing the blood soaking into her ruined dress. “You’re going to be just fine…”

He looks up to her, eyes full of pride, of sadness, and love, and then he lets the darkness take him. 

Our telepathic link snaps. I cannot sense his thoughts anymore. He is... gone. 

Hylia help me, I did everything I could, but I could not save him. May the Goddess forgive me. 

The Goddess holds his body and weeps.

But, wait.

Against the pommel of the sword, I feel the slightest pressure.

thump thump

thump thump

thump thump

A pulse. A pulse! His heart is still beating. He might yet be saved!

With my  limited remaining computing power, I desperately run through the calculations. The medical infrastructure needed to treat these wounds is sorely lacking in this era of Hyrule, but... Yes! It is there! Reaching through the Sheikah network, I can feel it, safe from the Calamity’s corruption. I remember the monk Maz Koshia designing this shrine for just this reason. The Shrine of Resurrection. 

Above me, Zelda shifts. Slowly, she starts to relinquish him, not noticing the pulse that I can feel, still beating ever so faintly in his chest.

No. NO! She cannot let go! 

HYLIA, HEAR ME! I am screaming through broken circuits and fragmented code. I have been damaged beyond anything I was designed to withstand, I am decayed beyond measure, but she is awake! She must listen!

ALIVE

My strength is fading, but she cannot abandon him! Not now! 

ALIVE

ALIVE

“The sword…?” 

She has heard me! YES.

“So he can… He can still be saved?”

QUICKLY, THERE IS NO TIME! THE SHRINE OF RESURRECTION ON THE GREAT PLATEAU. YOU MUST TAKE HIM THERE, NOW. IT IS THE ONLY WAY.

“I… how..?”

“Princess!” a voice echoes from across the field. The Sheikah, loyal to the last, have tracked the Goddess here. Their timing could not be better.

“Princess! Are you all right?”

She draws herself up with a strength I have never seen in her before. 

“Take Link to the Shrine of Resurrection. If you don’t get him there immediately, we are going to lose him forever! Is that clear?! So make haste and go! His life is now in your hands!”

The two men nod, immediately setting to work to stabilize him for the journey. They lift him carefully, wrapping his deepest wounds in bandages, before melting into the shadows as only Sheikah can. Zelda watches them disappear into the rain, then grips me hard, clutching me to her chest.

“You speak? I can hear you? How? How is this possible?”

With the last bit of strength I can muster, I answer. YOU ARE AWAKE. 

“The power?”

YES. THROUGH YOUR GRACE AND WISDOM, AND LOVE FOR MY MASTER, YOU HAVE FOUND THE TRUE POWER OF YOUR SPIRIT.

“What do I do?” she cries. “How can I seal the Calamity without Link? Without the champions?”

BREATHE, ZELDA. 

I am not meant for this task. I am meant to guide the hero, not the spirit maiden, but I carry enough of the Goddess’ memories to know what must be done while she waits for the hero to return.

YOUR POWERS SHOULD NOW CONNECT YOU TO THE SPIRIT MAIDENS WHO HAVE COME BEFORE YOU. LISTEN TO THEM. THEY WILL GUIDE YOU. 

She looks startled, but she does what I say. Sitting in the mud amid the husks of the defeated guardians, she takes a deep, shuddering breath. Her ancestors gather around, and I hear the whispers of Hylia’s past incarnations floating past me, just on the edge of hearing. She glows with a faint golden light in the falling rain. After a few minutes, she opens her eyes.

“Yes.” She says. “Even if he cannot yet be defeated. I can hold the Calamity at bay. I… I have done it before.”

MANY TIMES

She nods. “And what of you? I cannot bring you with me, but I cannot leave you here.”

I am barely capable of speaking anymore. The decay of the malice has been stopped by her light, but I am already close to shattering. 

I AM WEARY. I MUST HEAL. 

“Of course, what must I do?”

TAKE ME TO THE LOST WOODS. THE CHILDREN OF THE FOREST WILL LEAD YOU THERE. 

Laid to Rest

With the spirit of the Goddess awakened within her, Zelda can now see the korok spirits guiding her, from the field of battle all the way through the Lost Woods. Now she stands at the roots of the Great Deku Tree. At last, I can rest. In Hylia’s light, my master and I shall both become whole again.

“Your master will come for you. Until then, you shall rest safely here. Although the Slumber of Restoration will most certainly deprive him of his memories, please trust me when I say that I know he will arrive before you yet again.”

She places me carefully back in the pedestal at the Great Deku Tree’s roots. I feel myself slipping into my deep sleep once again. 

As my consciousness fades, I hear the Deku Tree ask “If I may be so bold…what is it that you are planning to do next, Princess?”

Zelda looks resolute. “The Master Sword… I heard it speak to me. It seems that my role is unfinished. There is still something I must do.”

“I sense there is great strength in your dedication.”

She has greater strength than ever. She is not alone anymore. The spirits of her ancestors are guiding her now, all the way back to the first Zelda who sealed Demise for a thousand years, waiting for her hero to return. 

“Great Deku Tree, I ask of you, when he returns, can you please relay this message… Tell him I—"

He interrupts her. “ Now, then… Words intended for him would sound much better in the tones of your voice, don’t you think?”

She smiles up at him, nods in understanding.

As my consciousness finally slips away, I think to myself, dearest Zelda. He already knows. He loves you too.

Awakening II

He is awake, and so am I. 

The spirits of the forest are chittering with excitement. Even as I rest here, I can hear the Great Deku Tree stirring with anticipation. We all felt the call of the spirit maiden locked away in Hyrule Castle, calling him once again to her side. I have felt her longing for him these hundred years. 

This time, he will grow strong in spirit. This time, we shall fight together. 

This time, the Calamity will fall.

Thanks so much for reading! You can also find this fic on AO3

[cursedvibes]

"I know why the fandom do it but I REALLY dislike to see these goddamn stitches on Kaori's head whenever she's represented in fanart. I know, it's Kenjaku! I know we never saw her without these stitches! I knoooow BUT I HATE IT she's Yuuji's mother and like what happened to her?! Was she pregnant with Yuuji before Kenjaku possess her body?! How did she get along with Jin? Is Kenjaku directly responsible to Jin being dead? And how Kenjaku found her? "

So what do you think about the post above? Do you think the og Kaori have CT all along? And, that Yuuji's personality is from Kaori not Jin?

I can understand the frustration to an extend. I rarely see it, but when Kaori is shown with stitches or Kenjaku without them it does rub me the wrong way. Kind of similar to people who tag posts who are solely about Kenjaku with "Geto", despite him having nothing to do with it.I can kind of understand it with fanart for a wider reach, but it unfortunately also means I can't block the Geto tag because that means I would miss out on over half of the posts in the Kenjaku tag (the anime caught up, why do people still call Kenjaku "Geto").

But at least one question of that post is easy to answer: Kaori wasn't pregnant with Yuuji before Kenjaku took over her body. Wasuke very clearly differentiates between Kaori and Kenjaku and he said Kaori couldn't get pregnant, that was only possible once Kenjaku took over.

Kaori always had a cursed technique, but it is unclear if she awakened it or if it was just lying dormant in her brain. Could go either way really, but the way Kenjaku worded it, it sounds more like she might have been able to use it, although I doubt she was an active sorcerer either way. I also think it would be more interesting and make her less of a passive participant who only got used for the dormant physical aspects of her body both by Kenjaku and Jin. I would like her to have had a little bit more agency and interesting background.

If Yuuji got some core personality traits from Kaori is impossible to say, since we know literally nothing about her as a person. Could be anyone's guess at this point. Yuuji got the humanity kanji 仁 from his father, but I don't think they have much in common personality-wise based on what we have seen of Jin so far. He is polite, sure, but he hasn't really shown that unconditional compassion Yuuji will give to people. He doesn't even seem like a particularly cheerful person. He was happy to have a child, but was ready to overlook over people's suffering in favour of his selfish goals. With how insistently Wasuke warned him and Kenjaku's bad acting skills I find it very unlikely that he didn't notice that something was wrong with "Kaori", but he went through with it anyway. He's also very cold to his father and we don't know how he acted around Kenjaku. I guess Yuuji is similar to him in that he also is distant towards his parent and family members, except for him Wasuke is the exception not the rule.

That also makes him quite similar to Kenjaku, who has shown trouble connecting with family members as well or people in general. They both have a very open and at times cheerful attitude towards others on the surface, but rarely allow themselves to make deep bonds with these people and over the course of their life have grown very hesitant (Kenjaku obviously moreso than Yuuji). The bonds they do form make them "weak", especially in the eyes of Sukuna and jujutsu society as a whole. They are both ready to sacrifice themselves and their body for the sake of a greater goal that is closely connected to a person they care about. Also they have a similar sense of humour. So I guess out of all his parents Yuuji is the most similar to Kenjaku in terms of core personality. I'd say he got Wasuke's stubbornness as well.

Also, another personal pet peeve related to Kaori is when people say Kenjaku calling Yuuji their son are subliminal feelings from Kaori coming through. That argument is already weak when people try it with Geto, but it makes even less sense with Kaori. She never met Yuuji, she might have never wanted to be pregnant for all we know and Yuuji was born at least a year after she was already dead. Where would those feelings come from? Not to mention that Kenjaku is very aware of their vessel (so far only Geto) influencing them and can differentiate between their own feelings and the ones coming from someone else. Not to mention that considering how Kenjaku treats the Death Paintings, suddenly developing parental feelings would definitely be something that would immediately trip Kenjaku up if it was coming from someone else.

[kisuminight]

Finally got all my thoughts on what's up with the Egg in DSMP Blade System AU, so I'm going to get that typed up and posted/scheduled later today. Also have general thoughts about where this this is going/progression of the story and might post those too.

Am I ever going to write this past notes and maybe snippets here and there? Who knows! I still feel a like I'm getting the character voices wrong, even when I'm just writing short snippets, and it's worse when I'm doing long form stuff.

Also like every major event on the DreamSMP had like 10-20 people running around and that is so much to juggle? Like anyone who can do that when writing has mad skills, because I can't. I had to kick half the characters out of the scene for the Staged Finale outline before I could really get it on-track and I'm not sure that was entirely in-character for any of the ones that left.

Fun fact for the AU: Since c!Techno's chat is made up of dormant core crystals, and c!Dream spends a lot of time dormant as part of the experiments with Blade memory post-Staged Finale, he will sometimes show up in chat!

Dream can't really remember the "dormant" periods between being Awakened, even with the Memory Patch. Those are closer to "real" dreams than anything else, so mostly he gets impressions like good/bad/weird. At first he's mostly watching c!Punz, but he tends to hop to others, too.

Dream tries to pop in with Techno when Techno is messing around with his animals. He usually knows Dream is there because Dream goes "woof/wolf" and then the rest of chat starts spamming it, too.

Techno is quietly grateful with the knowledge that his friend Dream is still alive and that c!Tommy or anyone else hasn't managed to track down and smash his core crystal. He gets very worried when Dream stopping appearing roughly 4 months after the Staged Finale (Dream and Punz have enough data to stop the experiments). Since there is no new message about Dream joining the game, he suspects that the worst has happened.

[dingusbalingus]

Olimar's Voyage Log: Day 1

My name is Captain Olimar.

While traveling through space on an interstellar vacation, my ship was struck by a meteor. The collision had knocked me out, but when I awoke I found myself on the surface of a strange planet. Though I appear to have been mostly unscathed from the impact, the same cannot be said for my ship, the S.S. Dolphin. My diagnostics indicated the Dolphin had lost 30 of its most critical parts across this planet's surface upon entry into the atmosphere. To put it simply, I've been stranded here.

To make matters worse, my atmospheric sensors indicate this planet's environment contains high levels of poisonous oxygen. The life-support systems in my suit are able to keep me alive for now, but without a means to recharge them they won't last for much longer than a month. If I can't repair the Dolphin by then....

....There is hope in this dire situation, however. Shortly after I came to, I discovered a curious bulb dormant in the ground. When I approached it, the thing shot up from the ground as if it were waiting for me, and firmly planted long, slender struts into the soil below. Though I haven't a clue as to what this object even is, whether its alive or simply a machine, it resembles a vegetable on my home planet of Hocotate that we call an onion, thus I've taken to calling it an Onion, as well.

After this discovery, a second discovery immediately presented itself. The Onion had sputtered a seed shortly after its awakening. This seed took root in the soil and, after a brief moment in time, rapidly grew into a developed sprout. This sprout emitted a soft glow, and it swayed back and forth without benefit of wind. I don't know what exactly, some instinct or gut feeling, but something compelled me to uproot the plant from the soil. And when I did, I discovered something most extraordinary....

....what came out of the soil was a living creature, not a plant. It sported a leaf on its head supported by a long stem, and featured a pointed proboscis at the end of its face. The shape of this creature resembles the Pikpik brand carrots on my home planet that I adore, so like the Onion before it I've taken to calling this creature a Pikmin.

Despite my harrowing circumstances, I could not help but be intrigued by this Pikmin... It stared at me longingly, as if awaiting my beck and call. I quickly surmised a few key things about these Pikmin. The Onion seems to act as an incubator for Pikmin seeds. A local variety of flower near our location yielded a nutrient-rich pellet, in which the Pikmin seemed to instinctively know to harvest by the Onion. This is how the Pikmin reproduce; soon enough, I found myself with a small army of Pikmin under my command. The Pikmin seem to have a natural inclination toward cooperation, they form groups to perform tasks that would be impossible for an individual. Using their skills, I was even able to retrieve the Main Engine, the single most important part of my damaged craft. It was a stroke of pure luck I even found it nearby.

Nightfall on a foreign planet frightens me a bit, so I decided that the safest thing for me was to head for the sky. Though I obviously did not expect escape from this planet to be feasible at this point in time, I can at least hover in low orbit above the planet's surface. What I did not expect, however, was the Pikmin to follow suit. The Pikmin's Onion miraculously followed me into the stars. Perhaps the Pikmin cannot survive overnight on the surface, or maybe they've decided to join me for other reasons. Regardless, It seems they will help me again, tomorrow.

A dense forest is visible on the surface below. As it holds the keys to my survival, I name it the Forest of Hope. I explore it tomorrow.

[claristhegirl]

And there we have it! After 7 1/2 years, I've finally completed Birthright Lunatic difficulty!

Some backstory: When I originally played Revelation in early 2016, I had already completed Birthright and Conquest on Hard, and decided my first [and only] Revelation playthrough would be on Lunatic as I was already familiar enough with the game. After finishing Revelation, I started Lunatic playthroughs of both Birthright and Conquest, but as Birthright is the relatively easy game I added some extra restrictions:

No grinding.

No My Castle use. This meant I was limited only to items obtained during chapters as I couldn't buy anything from shops.

No statbooster use (…I think, I'm not entirely sure I didn't use any back in 2016 but I had a ton in my inventory, so).

No paralogues, though that's mainly because of how offputting I find the entire kids setup in Fates to be.

Conquest didn't get very far, only reaching Chapter 10 (I'll just start over completely eventually). Birthright made it to Chapter 16; I don't remember why exactly I stopped playing, though the opening of Ch16 is a bit overwhelming.

And so the playthrough lay dormant for nearly 7 1/2 years. But a bit over a week ago, thanks to a friend I was wanting to play some 3DS FE again, and so I picked up this playthrough again and got through the rest relatively easily with the help of over 7 years of additional FE experience.

Finishing this playthrough has really rubbed in how much it feels like Birthright doesn't stand on its own at all. Where are enemy skills? Why are the changes in difficulty level basically just "more enemies"? Why is the hyped up near endgame battle against Corrin's brother so incredibly simple with him "holding back"? Why is the final boss's position so close to the start making it an incredibly easy 1 turn with a bit of setup? The answer to all of these is "because Conquest is the opposite". The game wouldn't be designed like this if Conquest didn't exist. Birthright was basically advertised as the game for fans of Awakening, but a standalone Awakening followup likely wouldn't be like that. It makes the game not feel whole, I guess.

But regardless, it's still Fire Emblem, and Fates does have some really fun gameplay systems (albeit overly complicated at times, which is ironic in how they're all shared with the "simple" game Birthright). I'm glad I finally came back to this playthrough and had a good time with it.

Character and chapter info:

Corrin (238 Battles / 132 Victories) Girl

Oboro (206 Battles / 127 Victories) She was my best physically defensive unit, making her incredibly valuable. I'm surprised her battle count managed to barely surpass Ryoma's. Also, Girl.

Ryoma (202 Battles / 188 Victories) lol. Just… lol. What an absolutely utterly absurd unit. He did a fantastic job of being the emergency delete button for large groups of enemies.

Hinoka (156 Battles / 70 Victories) I'm surprised she's that high, but I suppose her ability to solo Magic enemies across several rounds of combat helped with that. She ended up fairly weak but good for support with her personal and Rally Speed.

Kaze (154 Battles / 99 Victories) Kaze's damage output always disappointed me, but his shuriken debuffs and massive Res ensured he got a bunch of use regardless.

Setsuna (108 Battles / 88 Victories) I had high hopes for Setsuna, as she was decently above average on Strength at promotion… but then proceeded to get only a single point of Str in the next 13 levels after that. She'll always hold a special place in my heart though, for this absurdly unlikely moment back from my 2016 portion of the playthrough:

1 / 250. She just happened to be standing adjacent while Kaze was weakening Camilla, and she got the 1 / 250 chance of finishing off Camilla instantly. This particular moment made this specific playthrough mean a lot to me, which is a big part of why I resumed it from Ch16 instead of starting over. (This picture was taken on April 5th 2016)

Orochi (105 Battles / 74 Victories) My only primary Magic user, her terrible speed meant I didn't use her as much as I would've liked to. I'm very glad I decided to promote her with my somewhat limited Master Seals before Chapter 19 though lol, I did not remember the gimmick of that map beforehand at all.

Takumi (100 Battles / 74 Victories) Fujin Yumi sure is good. He was slower than I'd like, given I almost always had to augment his speed whenever I needed him to do something.

Jakob (100 Battles / 55 Victories) Jakob was reclassed into a Paladin sometime before Chapter 16, before I resumed this playthrough. I don't know if I knew back then that, with my restrictions, it was the only Heart Seal I was gonna get lol. I didn't use him for combat much after resuming the playthrough, but he was a nice support unit thanks to Gentilhomme and Shelter.

Silas (80 Battles / 59 Victories) His main role was Pair Up and Shelter support for most of the later game. It was really funny the few times where I had him do a chip attack and he activated Luna, which I always forgot about.

Kagero (80 Battles / 57 Victories) Much stronger than Kaze, but her even worse defense and significantly worse Res meant she was too fragile a lot of the time. Her main legacy is unfortunately costing me two Chapter 25 attempts (one at the very end) due to very stupid mistakes on my part.

Scarlet (64 Battles / 47 Victories) My only axe unit, her Hammer was incredibly useful late game. She mostly was a very useful support unit thanks to Rally Defense.

Saizo (30 Battles / 17 Victories) I brought him in on Chapters 22 and 26/27 when the game gave me an extra deployment slot and I needed a filler unit for it.

Shura (17 Battles / 9 Victories) A prepromote gotten right after the game gives you another deployment slot, he had a nice role as an extra healer and a 3 range attacker with the Spy's Yumi only he could use.

Sakura (3 Battles / 0 Victories) Very useful support unit between her healing, personal skill and Rally Luck. Due to being unable to buy Staves with my restrictions, I couldn't grind experience by mindlessly healing; combined with my bad habit of never wanting to promote early, she didn't actually promote until Endgame (at Level 18) where it didn't matter anymore. She would have to be an Onmyoji to actually attack, though, as I had no E rank bows she could use as a Priestess.

Azura (2 Battles / 0 Victories) My Azura was absurdly strength blessed, capping Str and Spd pretty early. Super annoying that she was strictly a support unit who only saw combat from occasional Dual Strikes, lol. But as a support unit she sure was fantastic. Her personal was very useful for healing without using staves.

Turn counts and MVPs: Prologue: 2 (None) Chapter 1: 5 (None) Chapter 2: 6 (Corrin & Jakob) Chapter 3: 13 (Corrin & Jakob) Chapter 4: 26 (Corrin & Kaze) Chapter 5: 110 (Corrin & Azura) …I assume I did a ton of Azura grinding here. Chapter 6: 2 (Corrin & Kaze) Chapter 7: 12 (Corrin & Jakob) Chapter 8: 9 (Rinkah & Silas) Chapter 9: 10 (Jakob & Silas) Chapter 10: 17 (Corrin & Kaze) Chapter 11: 15 (Corrin & Kaze) Chapter 12: 7 (Jakob & Kagero) Chapter 13: 9 (Silas & Kagero) Chapter 14: 14 (Silas & Orochi) Chapter 15: 15 (Corrin & Jakob)

Chapter 16: 16 (Hinoka & Ryoma) The first chapter after I returned to this playthrough. The first two turns were a bit overwhelming, but the rest wasn't bad once I decided to let Ryoma do Ryoma things. It was weird having a time limit here before the thieves reach the treasure, only for this kind of objective to never come up again for the rest of the game; kinda set some false expectations as my first chapter back.

Chapter 17: 28 (Takumi & Kagero) Pretty easy, the villages were a bit scary as I didn't know where the enemies would come from but not actually bad when I completely surrounded them with my own units first.

Chapter 18: 3 (Jakob & Orochi) Easy 1 turn but I spent a couple more turns to get the items from Odin and Niles.

Chapter 19: 14 (Corrin & Orochi) I totally forgot about this chapter's weird stat gimmick beforehand; sure made for an easy chapter though I would've had much more trouble without a promoted Orochi.

Chapter 20: 7 (Orochi & Ryoma) Another very easy map.

Chapter 21: 42 (Azura & Silas) Just about the end of the super easy maps as it's the last map where enemies don't charge at you before you're in their range.

Chapter 22: 18 (Corrin & Jakob) Had to get used to enemies coming for me unprovoked now; from this point on I started leaning on Ryoma hard.

Chapter 23: 47 (Corrin & Ryoma) Okay what the hell this chapter?? Such an absurd difficulty spike. I deployed only 8 units, then put them all in 4 pairs in the 4 tile wide hallway to the left so they all avoided Camilla's corridor attack.

Ryoma/Corrin were on the left and took out most enemies.

Kaze/Hinoka were the middle left, Hinoka there as a healer, switching to Kaze when there were bow units around; they were left unequipped to bait a magical ranged attacker that could do no damage and would block the only 1 range tile that could reach Ryoma, letting him slowly pick off every 1 range enemy that surrounded the area.

Shura/Jakob were the middle right. Shura was very nice as a healer with better defenses than my other healers so he could take a ranged attack. Jakob was there in case I needed his support skills.

Oboro/Silas were on the right, tanking anything that came that way as best as I could. Despite much fewer enemies, she had much more trouble than Ryoma did.

Once all the moving enemies and reinforcements were gone, Corrin and Ryoma cleared up the rest of the map, while a few units stayed in the right column to keep Camilla's attention there.

Chapter 24: 26 (Hinoka & Setsuna) So many enemies. So many enemies…. So many enemies………. Not that hard, just long and tedious since I was going for a full rout.

Chapter 25: 55 (Corrin & Scarlet) This chapter was super annoying as I failed two attempts due to very stupid mistakes. The first, I was near the end of the reinforcements, I carefully set up my units to bait two of the four incoming enemies at the edge of their range… And I totally forgot to move Ryoma. So he was left in range of 4 enemies, all having Weapon Triangle Advantage against him, without a pair up or any rallying. And he barely survived!! I thought that would be the end, but Ryoma is too good and Vantage came through. …..And then the VERY NEXT TURN I made the exact same mistake of forgetting to move a unit, except this time it was Kagero who got OHKO'd by a 100% hit attack. The second, I reached the very end. I set up all my units so that each of the 6 enemies in the row at the top would attack one unit each… And I didn't bother to do all of the combat math because I assumed everything would be fine, and Kagero got exactly OHKO'd. Super frustrating mistakes on my part. The beginning was pretty funny, with waves of 6 enemies attacking from the left and right each turn for the first 6 or so turns. Most of my units worked together to take out all the units on the right; Ryoma (with a pair up partner and some rallies) took out every enemy on the left. There being enemies with Entrap was scary, until I realized they couldn't actually warp me anywhere that Ryoma couldn't handle easily.

Chapter 26: 19 (Jakob & Oboro) Went for a full rout instead of the comically easy 1 turn. You don't even get anything for it aside from a Sun Festal pretty close to the start.

Chapter 27: 34 (Silas & Oboro) A large part of the map was [Enemy group moves on the left] Okay Ryoma, go to the left. [Enemy group moves on the right] Okay Ryoma, go to the right. [Enemy group moves on the left] Okay Ryoma, go to the left. I had the game crash once mid-chapter; I entered a battle animation, but the character models failed to load and several seconds later the game gave up. That was a super annoying way to fail an attempt. .-.

Endgame: 1 (Corrin & Kaze) Spent way more time than I needed to setting things up due to not wanting to redo Chapter 27 if I failed. My setup was:

Sakura tries using a Hexing Rod because lol

Corrin moves up

Azura dances Corrin

Kaze is paired with Jakob (+1 move), moves above Corrin, transfers Jakob to Corrin, then attacks the boss with the Spy's Shuriken + a Corrin Dual Strike

Oboro and Ryoma are Rescued closer to the boss

Oboro attacks to activate Seal Defense

Corrin attacks

Ryoma attack with a Corrin Dual Strike

The result was that Sakura missed with her Hexing Rod, but Ryoma wasn't even needed as Corrin finished off the boss herself.