#oh no there's more coming up

[redisaid]

The World Will Only Darken Without Candlelight - Chapter 3

Torches

In which Zelda agrees that Link is a horse girl and I regret writing this much action even after I pared it down.

5566 Words

Read it on Ao3!

I got a venom like a snake running out of my mouth. It's got you burning at the stake. Innocent or not, you're not a bet I care to take. And Father Ignorance will make brothers of us all, As he sets our torch aflame. Chasing down the flimsy specters that we co-create.

“About earlier--”

Zelda cut her father off with a simple, “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

They were both well-aware of exactly how much time they had, and how that did not lend itself to a serious conversation. Zelda didn’t want Rhoam to use that as an excuse to weasel his way out of it. And knowing him, he’d be happy to take that as the easy way out.

She wasn’t about to let him off so easily.

The show would start regardless. The pieces were already moving on the board. Even now, both of them sat in the royal box in the middle of the grandstand, watching the lone rider light the torches around the edge of the arena to signal the start of the tournament.

Rhoam coughed into his hand, ruffling the beard he’d fluffed out for the occasion of being king.

Zelda always hated that beard. She’d never seen him without one, though. He probably looked worse.

“Well,” he offered to cover the relative silence between them. The crowd on either side of them had begun to settle and weren’t doing enough to ease the discomfort that filled the gap between their thrones. “At least you’ll get to see the new show in its entirety.”

Zelda had no comment in return for that. She had only attended rehearsal up until the point she wasn’t needed anymore. She didn’t need to watch an hour’s worth of stage fighting. Not when there was other work to be done, at least. Costumes to organize with Purah. Props to sort with Impa. Gerudo Town to be repaired with Urbosa and her dancers.

Anything and anywhere but here, really.

Mostly for the fact that she would now be stuck watching this very show almost every night for the rest of the summer. She had evening after evening of trying not to look bored to look forward to. She would strategize how to keep the mosquitoes at bay while staying in character, though the thick fabric of her costume didn’t let all that many through to her skin, blessedly. She would sweat in the heat of the summer nights with only a paper fan and a plastic goblet of ice water to help. But the greatest fight of all was having to stay awake, especially after a long day of walking around.

Walking around and dodging Link now, lest she forget.

The rider passed their booth on his way to the final torch. Whoever it was seemed to have a good handle on the process at least. The dark bay he was riding wasn’t the least bit scared of the torch he was holding to kindle the others with. And he was managing to make it fast.

At least this part of the show had received a much needed upgrade. Last year, her father had old Sir Peter the Ponderous, one of his favorite old knights, riding with the torch. The beginning of the show had always dragged, but never so much as when Peter was responsible for starting it.

Zelda instantly regretted her mental compliment, though, when the rider wheeled his horse back around dramatically, and flipped down his black hood with the hand not holding the torch.

To reveal that, in fact, she’d thought he was rather short for a reason. It was fucking Link.

Of course it was Link.

Rhoam turned to her with a grin before he stood to address Link and open the show.

Of course it was Link. Link who could ride like that, throw axes, sneak past her attempts to find him, be the darling of the crowd without saying a word, and apparently protect her from whatever bullshit her father didn’t want to tell her about.

Of course.

Zelda stilled the scowl that threatened to form on her face, but only just.

“Word of your deeds this day proceeds you, oh Silent Knight. I hear that you have come to my kingdom, the great land of Hyrule, to challenge my Champions?” Rhoam called down to him.

Link nodded fiercely up at him. Even through the concentration of trying not to glare at him, Zelda noticed how he nudged the horse with his leg just slightly, and how the beast responded in kind by snorting and stamping a hoof.

Oh great. He was a horse girl. Horse guy? No, it didn’t have the same connotation to it. No, Zelda had decided it. Link was a horse girl, and this somehow explained everything.

“Very well then,” Rhoam continued, nodding back down to him. “My honored guests and I bid you to entertain us tonight with your skill and bravery. My Champions know well that courage is the mark of a true warrior. Let’s see if you have any, hmm?”

Another nudge. A different leg. This time the horse only snorted, no stomp.

Well, at least his damn horse was well-trained.

Though Zelda supposed Link was too. He was just listening to higher orders than she could give.

But he didn’t have to be so damn competent about it.

Rhoam leaned out of the royal box a bit more, gesturing first to the left, then the right side of the crowd. “What say ye, people of Hyrule? Shall we have this young man prove himself a Champion first? Shall we have a joust to test he’s worthy to face my finest?”

The packed opening day crowd was already roaring their assent, but Zelda’s brow was furrowing silently for a different reason.

He was making Link do the joust too? And then the Champion fights after? After a day of following her and acting out all these scenes?

Whatever her father was paying him wasn’t enough. That was so much work. So much physical, exhausting work.

And then to do it all again tomorrow?

But the crowd was cheering, and the usual crew of jousting knights were filing into the arena on their horses.

Usually, the joust was reserved as an opener to the theatrics. It would end in a draw, with the last two knights both unhorsing one another and being unable to continue. To that, Rhoam would call for his Champions to show the crowd a display of true skill and have them do their little tricks.

But this would mean that Link was meant to win this, and then compete with the Champions as well.

Zelda reserved to go easy on him tomorrow, for this at least.

And because he’d gone to Rhoam to ask him to talk to her. So, maybe he did have some sense in that little skull of his.

“Horse girl,” Zelda muttered to herself as a reminder.

Horse girl indeed. Link rode off to don some jousting armor in one of the outer tents while the other knights did their thing, introducing themselves and placing their banners in front of the royal box.

This, at least, wasn’t all that different from before. They all had their cheesy lines they’d shout at the crowd. Their terrible stage names. Sir Isaac the Ironic was actually just a guy named Steve. He did her dad’s taxes and had equestrian experience from playing polo of all things.

Most of them couldn’t aim the lance very well, or at least didn’t know how to make it break in a fun and dramatic way. Not that Zelda could blame them. It was still a giant, heavy piece of wood that they had hold in a difficult and awkward way, and aim at a specific spot on their opponent in order to break it well. Hit the other man’s head and you might send him to the hospital. For that reason, bouncing off the chest ineffectively was the vastly preferred option if you were otherwise not confident in your aim.

Zelda had always wanted to try it. Her father never let her, though. He told her it was too dangerous. And that she wasn’t confident enough around horses.

Well, maybe if one didn’t bite her when she was eight, she’d feel more confident about it.

Maybe if her father hadn’t raised her in a place where she was constantly around stupid horses and having to be afraid of being bitten again, she would feel a lot more confident about a lot of things.

Link appeared again on the back of that same dark bay, the both of them outfitted in a set of armor. This was just another suit of the faire’s, perhaps modified to fit Link’s slight frame, but still looking dented enough to have seen some use. He wore green and gold for his colors, carrying a banner that was emblazoned with a Korok leaf. Compared to those of the other knights, who all represented noble houses from Hyrule’s ancient past, it seemed simple and plain.

But that didn’t seem to bother Link. He rode out onto the field, visor open so he’d be recognized, to the raucous cheers of a crowd that was otherwise starting to get bored with the lack-luster joust. He placed his banner alongside the other knights, and wheeled his horse around dramatically again.

The same horse, Zelda noted. Not one of the faire’s own jousting horses. The white one named Snowball was fine. But the chestnut gelding Link’s opponent was riding was the meanest thing in the entire stable, and while he wasn’t the horse who had bitten her, was Zelda’s most recent excuse for avoiding that place all together.

“I haven’t seen you this interested in the joust in years,” Rhoam whispered to her as he caught her staring.

“You’re making him do it,” Zelda muttered back. “Any reason?”

“He’s good. You’ll see,” Rhoam promised.

Zelda was pretty sure she was tired of Link being good at things. But she watched regardless.

Link was up against a long-timer who’d been declared the winner of the previous joust for the fact that he had actually managed to break one of his three lances. Thus far, the only break of the night.

This, of course, was expected of Sir Jason the Joker, who usually managed to do fairly well at the joust, even if he’d spent most of the day in the beer tent. In reality, his name was Jerry and he was an IT contractor during the rest of the year. He thought that working at the ren faire was a good way to get nerdy girls, and was absolutely creepy about the way he’d repeatedly told Zelda this when she was only a teenager.

She’d never seen him take a girl home.

“New horse?” Zelda asked of her father as Link and old creepy Jerry lined up at the rail.

“His horse,” was Rhoam’s explanation.

She was right. Absolute horse girl. Brought his own fucking horse. No wonder he’d worn cowboy boots throughout rehearsal week.

Neither Link or his horse even so much as flinched at the whole affair, though. Zelda watched as he took the lance from a squire with relative ease, even though the damn thing had to weigh almost as much as him. He held it as though he’d done this thousands of times before.

And that horse of his had no problem carrying him at full speed right towards creepy Jerry.

Link’s lance tip absolutely smashed itself right where it should have, on the special plate designed both for this and to deflect the debris from creepy Jerry’s neck. Creepy Jerry, for his part, only bounced his lance off of Link’s shoulder.

This was how it went, each time, every time. Three times, to be exact. On the last one, Jerry even made a good show of falling out of his saddle after his horse had slowed a bit at the other end of the lists.

But with the way he wobbled as he did it, Zelda couldn’t be sure if this was for showmanship’s sake or because he had indeed spent too much time in the beer tent earlier.

Link did his little victory lap around the arena to yet even more cheers. And while it was nice to have a jouster who was, you know, good at jousting, Zelda had once again lost interest in his continued success. Really, how dare he be so good at pretending to be good at something?

“Your bit is coming up,” Rhoam warned her as he stood again.

Link picked up his banner, and something else that an assistant ran up to him from one of the darker corners of the arena. He completed his lap with the banner flying behind him, and showing a purple-hilted sword to the crowd.

Ah, right. That lovely little fake Master Sword of his. How could she forget?

But the people clapped. They were loving it. People love fairy tales, after all.

“Now I see why you are so courageous, young challenger!” Rhoam roared down at him as he stopped before the royal box, still holding the sword aloft. “Why didn’t you show us that in the first place? It is not every day that someone comes to my castle bearing the sword that seals the darkness!”

What followed was some lengthy speech Rhoam gave to invite Link to be one of his Champions if he should prove himself worthy of the title. Zelda had to admit that her father was a natural at this, even if his writing on the script was overly flowery. Prior to buying the castle and starting the renaissance faire, he’d hammed it up on stage to the collected works of the famous Sheikah Court Poet of old--the nameless author of the ancient era’s great plays. Rhoam had spent his youth with a troupe that performed just these works throughout Castle Town and its surrounding suburbs. Oh, and apparently convincing Zelda’s mother, an aspiring young doctor, to put up with him.

Zelda dutifully did her part as he mentioned his daughter, his princess, courtesying down to Link and offering him a demure wish for good luck.

Though she sat back down hard enough to make her throne squeak.

“That’s an antique, you know,” Rhoam chided her quietly as the show progressed on the arena floor, trumpets announcing Revali’s entrance with Rito-flavored fanfare.

“That you painted gold with spray paint,” Zelda reminded him. “Actually, that I painted gold with spray paint because you told me to. I remember how it got stuck in my hair.”

This time it was her father’s turn to not dignify that with a response.

Revali’s portion of the show was mostly the same, only this time his archery tricks were punctuated with insulting Link. Link, who’d changed into his Champion’s tunic again, this time without the black hooded cape that had served to cover most of it during the opening torch ride. This portion of the show had previously been for the Champions to individually boast about themselves, but was now tuned to be more about them doing that to Link.

Link, who stood around most of the time and watched.

He did this for Daruk too, but clapped and did offer him a little smile as he broke boulders and hurled rocks clear across the arena. Even for Urbosa, he mostly just stood and watched as she performed a sword dance that Zelda normally would have clapped a little too loudly for.

But not tonight, not if she too was hiding something from her.

Mipha, though, didn’t really do much of her usual spear and water show. Instead, this was replaced with yet another vomit-inducing scene between her and Link, where he once again mostly stood there while she simpered on about how she would be so honored to fight alongside of him as another one of the king’s Champions, but how she couldn’t let her heart get in the way of her responsibility to test him honestly.

Zelda just had to look over at her father and make the slightest of gagging noises at him to announce her displeasure.

“It’s romantic,” Rhoam said in his defense.

“Are you reading those raunchy novels Urbosa likes or something? I can put you on a dating app, you know, if you need to be reminded of how real women attempt to be romantic,” Zelda told him.

Rhoam’s beard flapped out from a sigh, but he just turned back to the show.

He hadn’t dated anyone since her mother died. Perhaps that was a low blow.

Zelda spent the remainder of Mipha’s scene trying to justify it regardless.

She stood with her father after that, as he gathered all the Champions to the front of the royal box to bid them to begin their tournament in earnest. Zelda, for her part, stood there as silently as Link did below.

Maybe he was thinking the same thing she was. That this new version of the show felt awfully long. It was getting late. The sun had well and truly set nearly an hour ago.

Poor kid. She’d probably made him miss his breaks by using hers to evade him. He was just doing his job.

She’d talk to him about it. Or talk at him. Explain herself. Attempt to, at least. Probably just end up ranting about her father and how he’d dragged her into this little land of make believe with him when they’d lost her mother. That it was all some sick coping mechanism that he’d gotten away with for fifteen years now. Maybe he’d listen. Maybe he’d just stand there and go blank and take his mind out somewhere else.

She wondered what Link thought about when he stared off into nothing.

Probably horses.

They sat back down and watched as he fought the Champions, one by one.

He missed a target when shooting shot for shot with Revali, and Zelda almost took a moment of joy in that. Almost, because the miss was scripted, and had Revali going in to insult him again only for Link to turn and shoot at his target, filling the bullseye with his remaining arrows. Revali retaliated with a purposeful wide shot at him for Link to dodge, which he made a good show of looking like it was closer than it was. And the next. And the next after that, until Rhoam had to make a show of declaring Revali to be the loser of this contest for poor sportsmanship.

Daruk was next, who immediately judged that it wouldn’t be fair for him to judge Link’s strength against his own. Link did a funny little bit where he tried to lift a boulder anyway, but Daruk instead declared they should have an eating contest. Link, in turn, seemed to be the most excited for this than he had been for anything else, and mimed his disappointment well for the crowd when a plateful of rocks was brought out.

Zelda knew, from asking Impa why there was a container of brownies sitting in the sound booth, that Link’s rocks were, in fact, made of mashed up brownies. But he still ate them. A disgusting amount of them, actually, in order to beat Daruk at this contest.

Urbosa challenged him to a duel on a full stomach of said brownies. Zelda found herself queasy at the notion of having to move around that much after eating two brownies, let alone what probably amounted to a dozen of them. But that didn’t stop Link.

He fought her admirably, showing a level of experience with stage combat that rivaled Urbosa’s. Urbosa, herself a former stage actress, who had been working at the faire and doing this for fifteen years now. Urbosa, in her mid-forties with more abs than most people could achieve at their youngest and strongest. Urbosa, who knew how to make this look very real, having this young kid go step for step with her, never so much as missing a single beat of the choreographed fight. She grinned even as she took her scripted loss to him, clearly pleased with how well it had gone.

Mipha was last, of course, to build up some dramatic thing about her childhood crush on him or some bullshit. Zelda went to her happy place during most of it, admittedly, which was thinking back to the one archaeology class she’d managed to sneak into her schedule last semester.

The clashing of spear against sword stirred Zelda from those thoughts as she was surprised to find Link and Mipha actually fighting. Granted, she was giving a cheesy monologue as they did, but still dueled him. Mipha’s stage combat had never been the best, and while she lacked the fluidity that Link had in his movements, it seemed she must have gotten some pointers since last year. They had a pretty good little fight. One that still ended with Mipha surrendering and saying she didn’t want to fight him, but far more than Zelda had expected either way.

And with that, the crowd cheered again. Despite the late hour, the heat, the bugs, the smoke of the torches. They loved it.

Rhoam stood and bid her stand with him, all the while clapping himself. Maybe at himself.

Well, at least he was pleased with all this work. Zelda would be happy for him in her own little way, and she was, really.

She just wished he wasn’t keeping something from her.

---

“I didn’t really get your whole speech at the end there,” Purah later told her in the dressing room. “Was it supposed to be about him and the sword or what?”

“That confused all of us during rehearsal, honestly,” Zelda replied, then jumped as Purah scratched her back in the process of removing her corset. “Easy with your nails!”

“Oh sorry,” Purah apologized. “I keep forgetting I have these acrylics on. Typing with them is a nightmare. I have so many regrets.”

“I thought it was about him and Zelda at first,” Impa piped up from where she was hogging the airflow of a nearby box fan, despite being the only one in the room who had enjoyed the blessing of air conditioning for a majority of the day.

“Ugh no,” Zelda spat back.

“What’s the matter Zelda? Don’t you like Linky?” Purah taunted from behind her as she continued loosening the corset’s laces, with a bit more caution this time.

“Leave it, Purah,” Urbosa warned from her vanity. She was busy wiping the blue lipstick off with probably the third or fourth makeup wipe. It was on there that thick. “Rhoam didn’t tell her about the whole following her around like some sick puppy dog thing. She has reason not to like him.”

“He’s short,” Zelda retorted.

“I like short guys,” Purah continued to tease. “But don’t tell that to Robbie.”

“Zelda doesn’t even like guys,” Impa sagely noted.

Zelda, did, in fact, generally prefer women. Generally. Mostly. She wished she only liked women, really.

“Zelda thinks that is none of your business,” was what she had as an answer.

“So you do like him then?” Purah questioned as she pulled out the last lace. “Oh, is that why you looked like you were gagging at all of Mipha’s scenes?”

“No, I was gagging because they were like something out of one of Urbosa’s romance novels,” Zelda told her, holding the corset to herself as it fell loose.

She enjoyed a few deep and full breaths without the restrictive garment. The first she’d had in over fourteen hours now.

Why the fuck had she agreed to do this again? The days were long. The pay was pretty bad, worse for her because it just went straight to the bank and never in her hands. The gratitude was…nothing. It never had been. Not even a thank you. A hug. A kind word of appreciation from her father for supporting his dream. For being a part of it.

If she got home before him, she’d be in bed by the time he pulled up to the house. On the rare nights he got home before her, he’d be asleep on the couch, TV blaring by the time she arrived.

She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be back in Hateno, hanging out with her friends from college, working at the disease research internship she’d put her heart and soul into getting.

“My novels aren’t nearly that bad.”

Urbosa’s deep laugh at her own comment was enough to stir Zelda back from the brink again.

“It’s late. You girls can go,” she continued, shooing Impa and Purah off. “I’ll help her with the rest from here. Be careful.”

“Careful of what?” Zelda ventured to ask.

Urbosa stared up at her, an odd vantage to have for once. Even in a ratty t-shirt, sweatpants, and without her traditional makeup, she was still quite intimidating, betraying no other emotion except to dare Zelda to question it as she said, “It’s dark in the parking lot. They could trip and fall.”

“I’m gonna trip and fall into bed,” Purah threatened in response. “Opening day is gonna have me going to bed at old person times.”

“It’s nearly midnight,” Urbosa reminded her.

“Yup, old person times. Night!”

Impa followed her out of the dressing room with a nod, only rolling her eyes a little bit at her sister.

Zelda turned from them to find Urbosa handing her the pile of street clothes she’d left folded on her own vanity that morning. It seemed like weeks ago she’d last worn those.

“Thanks,” Zelda said, taking them and turning away again to slip into the sports bra, tank top, and shorts that she so dearly missed throughout the long day.

“Listen I--”

Whatever confession Urbosa was about to offer was cut short by her phone ringing. Loudly. At least the ringtone was a very catchy little Gerudo tune.

She picked up the phone, and listened to whoever was talking on the other end of it for a while. Nearly a minute, actually, before saying, “Stop that. Don’t panic. It’s just a flat tire. I’ll be right there.”

“The parking lot strikes again?” Zelda commented from her own vanity as she sat to take her own makeup off.

Urbosa shook her head and hung up on whoever she was talking to before sticking her phone back into the oversized purse it had come from. “Apparently. My niece Riju, you know, the one I introduced you to last week? She’s selling her sand seal plushies here this year. She’s got a flat out there. She just turned sixteen. She doesn’t know what to do. Don’t they teach that in driver’s ed anymore?”

Zelda laughed at that. “I panicked and called my dad the first time I got a flat. It’s okay. Go help her. I can close up here.”

Urbosa looked as though she didn’t want to take that answer, but looked over at her purse again, then toward the door.

“You’ll call me when you get home?” Urbosa requested.

“I’ve been the last to leave many times before, Urbosa. But I’ll call you if you feel like playing mama bear tonight,” Zelda offered. “I still have to steam that dress anyway. You know how long that takes. You’ll probably have that tire changed well before I’m done.”

The phone in Urbosa’s purse rang yet again to prove a point.

She sighed again, but picked up the purse. “If you forget to call me, I’m calling the cops,” she warned Zelda as she left.

“Love you too,” Zelda called after her.

In all honesty, she liked being alone at the faire. And she wasn’t all that alone. There were still grounds crew out there, cleaning up the mess the guests left behind. They were the ones that actually closed up the faire for the night to the tune of locking the gates. And they’d be here until the early hours of the morning.

But until then, there was the eerie emptiness of a place meant to hold a lot of people. That should have scared her, but it didn’t. It felt fitting. The ruins in which the faire was held had this time to just be ruins again. Quiet, enduring, full of mystery.

Was it weird that Zelda wanted to be among that? Maybe. Not as weird as wearing cowboy boots as casual footwear, though.

Zelda used the time she spent steaming out her princess dress and hanging it back up precisely the way that Purah had instructed to think up how she could succinctly apologize to Link. Each time, her thoughts just spiraled and spiraled. How could she even explain herself without giving him her life story?

He wouldn’t want to hear it. She was a mess. He could do no wrong. He couldn’t possibly relate.

Fine. She’d let him just go on silently hating her, trying to get rid of her or whatever he’d promised her father he’d do. Zelda resolved that it was a useless endeavor by the time the dress was devoid of wrinkles. She’d just try to be less shitty to him tomorrow. That would have to be good enough.

It was late enough when she left that she only spotted one groundskeeper on her way to the parking lot. She’d given him a little wave, but he didn’t wave back. Probably didn’t see her.

That was fine. She’d been seen enough that day. Too much.

And while the parking lot was indeed dark, her car was still easy enough to find, even without clicking the remote to unlock it. There were only a handful left that weren’t permanent fixtures like horse trailers and a handful of trucks and cargo vans belonging to vendors. Hers was the only white sedan among them, at least. Even Urbosa, her minivan, and her niece were nowhere to be found.

Zelda, for her part, didn’t feel the need to pay all that much attention to the night. She was on her phone, searching up the hours for her beloved pizza place to see if there was any chance it was still open. She’d hardly eaten all day and was starving, and that sounded much better than stopping by the drive thru on her way home.

So the last thing she expected was for a gloved hand to block her view of the screen as it pulled her head back. Nor did she expect a knife to be held to her throat.

“Scream and I’ll kill you,” a voice threatened directly into her ear.

She dropped her phone. Her keys.

This was real. This was actually real. Someone was holding her mouth shut and had a knife on her, sharp enough she could feel the edge just beginning to bite painfully into her neck.

And she was so shocked that she couldn’t even scream if she wanted to.

Hands grabbed her hands, pulling them back, wrapping something around them. It tightened uncomfortably around her wrist, but not all the way.

Not all the way, because whoever it was was startled by a scream from behind them.

A battle cry that Zelda knew, even if she’d never actually heard the voice behind it speak.

She turned her head to follow it to find Link charging at them in just a pair of cargo shorts and nothing else. Not even shoes. Not a single cowboy boot to be found.

But he had her attacker on the ground faster than she could even process. The knife was slapped away from her throat and kicked across the gravel of the parking lot, clinking away into the darkness.

Zip tie. It was a zip tie on her wrists. What the fuck? What the absolute fuck?

Zelda pulled it off and tried to figure out where her phone went.

“I’m calling the police!” she shouted as she searched over the sounds of Link struggling with her attacker.

Her attacker, who was wearing a red and black hoodie and a black ski mask. She tried to remember this so she could tell someone and be useful, but this was all happening so fast. Link had him on the ground one second, then aimed a punch at his temple that he dodged. Then the next second he was up and running, and Zelda still hadn’t found her fucking phone.

By the time she did, under the rear bumper of her car, with the screen now slightly cracked, he was gone. He was gone and Link was left panting, shirtless, and staring at her. A thin cut on his forehead dripped blood onto his cheek. The gravel hadn’t been kind to his knees either, and had left them bloody too. But other than that, he was alright.

And so was she. Thanks to him.

“Are you hurt?” was the first thing Link ever said to her.

His voice was soft and gentle, like he was talking to a frightened animal.

Well, he was.

For once, Zelda had nothing to say in return. Nothing she could say. Shock still rippled through her system, threatening to make her weak in the knees as the resolve of finding her phone and doing something about it left her.

She just shook her head.

[eldritch-ace]

I too think he deserves a kwagatama

[bilaudad]

wing stuff!

experimenting with a more cartoon style, idk what i'm doing loll

tagging: @goodomensafterdark <3

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Normal Friend Behaviour.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[pidgydraws]

🐕 dog dads 🐕

[redysetdare]

I wholeheartedly believe that the last thing that should be said in response to aspecs hating their identity is "don't worry! Aspecs can still do X, Y, and Z" and I'm so fucking serious about this.

The least helpful thing you can do to someone who have not accepted their aspec identity yet is give them ways to compensate for it. If an aspec person is upset over not being able to enter a romantic relationship, the last thing that should be done is to tell them they can still enter one or instead enter a QPR - not because that's not true but because that is quite literally going to stunt their ability to accept their aspec identity. Telling them they can instead enter a QPR when they're upset over the lack of romantic relationships is at MOST a bandaid for the main issue. Instead of them coming to accept their identity and accept who they are you have instead handed them an amatonormative alternative on a silver platter that allows them to pretend they still fit into amatonormativity without every deconstructing it. This is how we get QPRs getting shoved into an amatonormative framework - these people NEVER got over the "I'm sad that I'm aspec" phase because they were handed alternatives instead of given actual support in deconstructing their internalized aphobia, self hatred, and amatonormative biases.

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[sparklingchim]

you're losing me masterlist | jjk

pairing: jungkook x you

rating: 18+

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

summary: amidst marital challenges, jungkook and you struggle with the difficulties of your relationship. yet, the lingering question remains: is the journey truly worthwhile?

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ**✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

PART 1: how long could we be a sad song?

chapter 01: midnight trouble (m)

jungkook is late from work yet again. but he shows you just how much he missed you.

chapter 02: silly costumes & haunted hearts (m)

having a bit too much fun at chanyeol's halloween party, jungkook unexpectedly joins the party too.

chapter 03: questions in the air (m)

probing questions and rising tensions cloud the family dinner.

chapter 04: bittersweet beginnings

encountering jungkook at a gala helps you to forget the rest of the world for a little while.

[voiider]

I need codependent Danny/Jason as a little treat (for me) and I love the idea of them having some sort of instant connection the moment they meet (bc ghost stuff idk)

Danny who's been dropped in Gotham with no way home (alt universe??) and he's been here for 36 hours and having a Very bad time senses a liminal being and immediately latches onto them heedless of the fact that his new best friend is shooting at some seedy guys in an alley and goes off about how stressed he is and how he can't make it back to the ghost zone and what a bad day he's been having (and it's important to note Danny is a littol ghost boy literally hanging off of Jason's neck as he floats aimlessly) and Jason is like "who are you??" And Danny is like "oh sorry I'm Danny lol" and then just continues lamenting his woes

And honestly ? This might as well happen. Nothing about this Danny guy(is he human?) gives Jason a bad vibe and tbh he's never felt more calm and level headed before so he just keeps up his usual Red Hood patrol and doesn't even think about it when he heads back to a safehouse and feeds Danny dinner (breakfast) before crashing for half the day

The only thing I actually need is Jason meeting up with the bats for some sort of Intel meeting and they're like "uhhh who's that" and Jason is like "that's Danny." And does not elaborate (very ".... What do you have there?" "A smoothie" vibes)

And it takes them a while to realize that these two have known each other for less than 12 hours and are literally attached at the hip

[heavyheavycream]

feedist kinktober 08 : plugged in

[soarrenbluejay]

Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

[suntails]

🌹⚔️

[egophiliac]

(breathing into a paper bag) FRALIO....

can't believe they gave us another guy. oh my god. so I guess Kelka is more, uhhh, more OOO then, and Fralio is Ankh? not that it matters too much, although they do seem to be doing something with the connected Riders so. who knows. anything goes! or if I may, anything gOOOes! god. of course they're the Ambition parallel. of course they are. oh my god.

fortunately there's nothing else they can throw at me right now that could possibly --

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[mellpenscorner]

Modern Writing Advice: don't load your readers down with a bunch of different names! Keep things simple so they can remember what you're talking about.

JR²T Himself: And here are these three mountains. Now listen to Gimli wax poetic about them and their names and histories in three different languages, then refer to the Extra Educational Material at the end of your volume to see what he's talking about.

[shapelytimber]

Girls girls girls

First recap was ok, but I'm in the mood to draw characters and I wanted to do a proper lineup/height charts (and then promptly drew maul in heels and Padmé on tiptoe..... I am a genius)

[COMMISSIONS]

[PART 1] - [PART 2] - [PART 3]

Rambling below vvv

It's always so temping to dress maul in white, and I once again caved kflodkd

Also ! I always draw her pre tpm, because it's a) the time in her life when I see her wear silly/'extravagant' outfits the most (can't really do that when you're a half dead giant spider eating rats in a garbage world fkldodi and after *that* I don't think her spirit is really into accessorizing and wearing cute fits- still a slut tho) and b) mechanical limbs are hard to draw and a pain to render (one day I will draw her old I swear !)- but ! All this to say : she stay "small" even after getting bisected ! The bones are staying in the pussy !! Let her be short, then a spider, then short once again but this time with cool metal legs :)

I usually draw Padme all serious, but she can't be all business like when frolicking in a field with her dumbass girlfriend and I think drawing her silly healed a bit of my soul <3 (also took liberties with the yellow dress design- wanted to make it a bit my own and I kind of hate the original faded yellow ngl)

For Obiwan and Anakin, I wanted them in civilian clothing because Jedi outfits are a bit boring (for what I'm doing here)- but I also wanted to stay in the same color scheme as their Jedi's outfit (and I ended up swaping them because I wanted to see obiwan dressed in black kxkdldk). I am very proud of Obiwan's outfit !! I think it fits her, while staying relatively in character :D and next to her you get no rizz butch anakin :)))

I'm having a lot of fun making these :D even if this rendering style takes so fucking long- next up is either Palpatine, Vader, Dooku, boba fett or leia, han, lando, chewie (and maybe luke, we'll see)

PS : I have never watched the 3D clone war show, this is mostly based on the movies :)

[my-darling-boy]

And it hurts to miss you, but it’s worse to know

That I’m the reason you won’t come home

Photos by keltikfilm, editing by me