#ooc — jerk of all trades.

[heartbloomed]

looking to start writing again but i’m more in the mood to write on discord as opposed to here for the time being.. if you’d be interested in starting some things/continuing things we had going before, give this a like and i’ll come to you 🫶🏻

[bagofshinyrocks]

Giant Dinosaur

Prompt: For Christmas, you buy your man the giant dinosaur from Kohl's. [Requested by @airghostlyfox]

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: profanity; gaz is ooc but it all felt repetitive

A/N: not super proud of this one, but i hope y'all enjoy it anyway because i thought it was fun :-)

He.

John Price

It was hard to hide a dinosaur plushy that big. But there was a linen closet you only kept tablecloths and spare towels in, and now a very smooshed dinosaur crammed into the top.

Christmas morning, you wriggled free of John’s death grip on you, muttering something about needing to pee. A few minutes later you slipped back into his arms and kissed him good morning.

He smiled sleepily and nuzzled his face into your neck. “Morning,” he purred, beard tickling you a little.

“Morning, baby. Santa left you something.”

He opened his eyes a little more and looked around. Lurking right behind him, spooning him, was the giant dinosaur.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

John jerked and punched the thing across the room.

“John! What is wrong with you?” You were halfway out of bed to go grab the thing before he tugged you back into his chest and pulled the blankets up again.

“Too early for presents, luvie. Not until 9 AM. Need more kisses.”

You didn’t have any real desire to protest with your lover’s mouth already against yours and his arms squeezing you close.

The dinosaur lay on the floor for a while, before John finally allowed him to sit on the bed during the day. Though that bad boy would get punted once it was time for bed. Poor guy :-(

Simon Riley

He found it before Christmas morning. On the hunt in the guest bathroom for some spare shaving cream containers, he pulled aside the shower curtain and hollered.

You came running from the bedroom.

“Simon! Simon, what’s wrong?”

You collided into him as he came out of the bathroom. Strong hands gripped your shoulders and he took a deep breath.

“Why is there a giant fuckin’ stuffed Grinch in the shower?”

You blinked. Then groaned in defeat.

“Aw, damn.” You squeezed past him and plucked the stuffie up. “He’s a dinosaur, Simon.” A little scratch to the plushie’s chin. “And part of your Christmas present.”

“No.”

“It’s only part of your present, Si. You’ve got other goodies waiting.”

He took it from you and gave it a shake. Nothing inside made a noise, so he started squeezing its limbs, its stomach, its face. You looked on, smiling. That wasn’t the usual way of playing with a stuffed animal, but it’s cute.

You must have said that last bit aloud because he fixed you with a withering glare and suddenly you had a mouthful of dinosaur fluff.

Kyle Garrick

Kyle got home the morning of Christmas Day. Well, technically morning, as it was 3 AM.

You picked him up at the airport and welcomed him with a bear hug and several kisses. He was exhausted. Eyes barely open, face buried into your neck. If he were still a little kid, you would have carried him and strapped him into his car seat.

You walked arm-in-arm back to the car, chatting about your plans for the afternoon, all the food you’ve been making, and that Santa had already dropped off his presents.

“Oh, boy, I can’t wait to see what I got.”

“I brought part of it with me.”

Kyle grinned and immediately tugged at the waist band of your clothes, seeing if your undergarments were the present. You scoffed and gave his nose a gentle flick.

You opened the trunk of the car and helped him load his gear in. Sitting in the passenger seat, he saw a large, fluffy, green shape.

“Wha’s that?”

“For you!”

He all but skipped to the passenger seat and laughed at the dinosaur strapped in. Unclicked the seatbelt, scooped him up, and traded spots. You sat in the driver’s seat and gladly accepted all the happy kisses he gave you.

“Thank you, baby, this is very sweet.”

The first ten minutes of the drive home was filled with him saying thank you and leaning over to give you a kiss.

The rest of it was him sleeping on the dinosaur, quiet snores and the same death grip he gave you around the mass of green fluff.

Johnny MacTavish

Johnny burst out laughing when he looked at the mass of wrapping paper next to the tree.

“Steamin’ bloody- What the shit?”

You tried so hard not to laugh as you told him to go ahead and open it. He tore it open like the dinosaur was suffocating and smacked it on the ground. Chest compressions, mouth-to-mouth. Then slapping its face and begging it to wake up.

You may have peed yourself a little bit at his shennanigans.

And it got so much worse, as he decided the giant dinosaur was a punching bag or sparring mannequin. He called it “Boss” and treated him like his number one enemy.

Whenever you put Boss on the couch, Johnny would take a running start and body slam it off. Tuck Boss into bed, and he’d driving-elbow-drop on the motherfucker and the bounce would almost launch you off the mattress. The dino never fought back, but you sure did.

“Fucking launch me like that again, I dare you.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You will be living in the barracks and Boss will get your side of the bed and the sink.”He took more care in reducing collateral damage when attacking Boss, and you got really good at repairing that dinosaur. You didn’t want Johnny to know he was being too rough. Or for him to stop. It was Penelope and her shroud, you and that stupid fucking dinosaur.

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2024 January 2

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: Yall know that tiktok sound that goes “My life is the crown, and yours is politics, and I will not trade one prison for another. I’m sorry I looked at Mrs Riley and lightly grazed her left tit.” That’s literally me writing thoughts/ descriptive paragraphs vs writing dialogue. Anyways lol. Not Proofread so excuse typos and gramatical errors, excuse If Miguel is ooc.

(Y/N)- Your name

Cursing, using of cannabis, mentions of throwing up (like nothing serious, but thought I’d mention it.) Miguel being a jerk, (Y/N) being a jealous jealous jealous girrrrl (read that I’m your head like in the unreleased Lana del ray song.)

Word count: 1.3k

Serious Masterlist

Chapter 10: Do I wanna know, if this feelin’ flows both ways?

—

“What a fucking asshole!” You hissed under your breath.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored him for 3 weeks.” Kate snickered as she playfully hit your shoulder, you just shot her a small glare, causing her smile to widen.

“Not funny.” You huffed, tone still quiet, crossing your arms on the dining hall table, and resting your head in your arms.

“Aww, poor (Y/N)..” Logan jokingly cooed, as he began to rub your shoulder from where he sat next to you.

From the other side of the uni’s dining hall, sat Miguel with some of his teammates from the hockey team, which wasn’t what upset you. What did upset you was what he had sitting in his lap, or rather, who. On Miguel’s lap, sat some cute blonde from your English class, she was a pretty little thing for sure, you couldn’t deny that, and even though you knew you had no right to feel the tightness building in your chest, had no right to feel your whole body get hot all over like you could combust into flames at any moment, didn’t mean you didn’t still feel it.

You wanted to find yourself disliking her for something that wasn’t her fault, maybe in an attempt to make yourself feel better about the situation, give yourself a reason to shift the blame onto something, or rather someone else. But despite your best efforts, you know you couldn’t bring yourself to dislike her, you didn’t even know her name, and the thought of hating another girl because of a man? You couldn’t. And much less the man being Miguel??? No way.

You let out a sigh and slowly lifted your head up and took a bite of your food in front of you, trying to zone in onto the conversation that Kate and Logan were having, but you could only do so for a few seconds at a at most. Finding your eyes drifting to Miguel’s table from time to time, a glimpse of him wrapping his arms around her waist here, a peak of him lightly kissing her neck there, it made you feel sick to your stomach. Wanting to make you puke the half of your sandwich you’ve eaten. Your lucky you were too far to hear the girl’s giggling or Miguel whispers in her ear, you felt like if you could have hear them as well as see, you’d have to leave the building in order to keep yourself from getting too-

“Jealous?” Logan’s word’s snapped you out of your thoughts, you let out a hum as you turned to face him, seeing the knowing smirk on his face. “He’s probably trying to just make you jealous.” He shrugged, but Kate’s face scrunched up in disagreement.

“Or maybe he got tired of you ignoring him and he moved on.” Kate said, popping a fry in her mouth. Logan gave her a questionable look, one that almost looked like he was asking her “you seriously think that?”.

“Can we not talk about this anymore? I’m already too busy this month to think about some hockey player.” You spat out last words that came of your mouth like they were poisonous, and although Logan agreed with your hatred for hockey players, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at your dramatics.

—

“I’ll see you later honey~”

Miguel had to stop himself from cringing, as he opened the girls car door for him, “you too.” He mumbled back with a half-ass smile, as she got in, before he closed her car door and she drove off. “Finally…” he sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

Maybe Miguel shouldn’t have picked a girl that was so clingy to try and make (Y/N) Jealous, but it’s too late now since you’ve already seen him with her around campus, so there was no going back. Okay, that’s a lie, he could totally dump her, but he was too stubborn. He’s thought about it, but then he’d think about how it would make that pretty little face of yours scrunch together in annoyance whenever he’d kiss the blonde on her neck, or how you’d not-so-obviously be glaring at him from across a room whenever he’d rest his hands on the girl’s hips. What was the girl’s name again? He’s been seeing her for a week and he still can’t remember, he should have written it down on a sticky note or something.

I mean he really didn’t care about her, all he cared about was you. He knew he was being a major A-hole, but in all fairness, when wasn’t he?

Once Miguel reaches his dorm, he opens the door to find Peter laying on the floor, a blunt between his lips, and the room covered in smoke, the pungent smell of Cannabis filling the small cramped room despite the window being open and the two lit candles on the nightstand. Miguel quickly steps into the room and closes the door behind him, before fixing the towel Peter had pushed up against the crack between the floor and the edge of the door, to prevent too much of the smell from leaking out.

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” Peter asked as he took a long drag from the blunt, his bloodshot eyes slowly wandered over to meet Miguel’s. Miguel didn’t need to ask Peter about what he was referring to. Miguel opted to stay silent instead, kicking his shoes off and placing them next to the door, before walking over to sit on the floor, leaning against his bed as Peter sat up and took the joint from between his lips into his hand and offered it Miguel would gladly accept it.

Taking a deep inhale, he felt the smoke fill his lungs as they felt like they were being lit a flame, being a hand up to his chest to help soothe the temporary burning sensation as he coughs a bit, puffs of smoke leaving his chapped lips, before he instinctively licked them. After a few more moments of silence that felt longer than it should have, Peter spoke up again.

“You both are acting like a bunch of middle schoolers.” He stated as he took the blunt back from Miguel.

“You don’t know what your talking about, your fucking high Parker. Literally.” Miguel shook his head as he sat back more against his bed, feeling the effects of the joint already start to take effect on his body.

“I don’t need to be sober to see that both of you are into each other, but both of you are too stubborn to say anything.” Peter deadpans.

“Can’t we have this conversation when we aren’t getting stone?”

“If we didn’t you would get too angry.”

Miguel let out a huff, knowing Peter wasn’t wrong. He took the blunt from Peter’s hand and took another hit. If he was gonna have have this conversation right now, he needed to be really fucking high.

“Miguel, as your best friend, and your dorm mate,” Peter places a hand on Miguel’s shoulder, “I want to tell you this in the most honest but respectful way, okay?” Peter raised a brow as he waited for some sort of response from Miguel, which he got in the form of a head nob. “You’re being a fucking idiot. Stop acting like a high school fuck boy that plays mind games and just talk to her. I get you don’t believe in ‘talking about feelings’ or whatever. But you can’t just mess with her and expect shit to sort itself out.” Miguel looked at Peter with a confused look, wondering we’re all of this sudden wisdom came from, maybe it was the wee- “wanna order McDonald’s?” Peter asked with a shit-eating grin, causing Miguel to let out a heavy sigh. That’s the Peter he knows.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @migueloharaspookiebear @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio

[astral-cookiery]

Hello! I'm the anon that requested the Red Velvet and Dark Cacao small fic :D

And omg, I loved it!! Thank you for doing my request (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

May I request for the same trope/scenario but with Caramel Arrow Cookie? She has been living in my head for quite some time.. once again, thank you! (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

(Sorry if this got sent twice, my Tumblr is being a jerk)

A/n: I absolutely loved writing those fics, so I'm glad you enjoyed it! <3

I don't understand flirting, but my early morning brain was determined to write it, so apologies if that isn't what you were looking for. CA also might be ooc since I haven't completed Chapters 13/14 yet (｡•́︿•̀｡)

I try my best to make my writing gender-neutral when I can, so please point out if I seem to be leaning towards any gender at all.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Caramel Arrow Cookie x Reader

Caramel Arrow Cookie sat cross-legged on her bed, in no rush to get up and at her duties today. It was one of her days off- which were few and far in between. She decided to spend the day doing things she wouldn’t usually, such as sleeping in. So instead of waking up before sunrise, as she normally would, she slept until the sun was creeping into her window, shining in her face- which was relatively late in the morning. 

She did eventually decide to wake up however, and took her comb to start working at the ridiculous amount of hair she had. 

Knock knock.

Caramel Arrow Cookie didn’t need to guess who was at her door, seeing as you had a rather particular rhythm in which you knocked on her door. 

“Come in!” She called.

The door creaked open, allowing you to step in, giving Caramel Arrow an enthused expression.

“Goood morning Caramel Arrow! What are you up to?” You asked, watching her continue to comb out her hair, which trailed around her like a winding river. 

“Ah, I’m just brushing my hair right now.” She answered, briefly smiling up at you to signal that you were welcome to stay.

“Can I braid it?” You asked without missing a beat, which meant that you probably thought about it beforehand.

“Oh, I don’t see why not.” She answered, gesturing for you to sit on her bed. After taking a seat behind her, you combed your fingers through her hair. You had to pause for a moment, marvelling at how the sun made the brown swirls in her hair shine, making it look almost golden.

“Has anyone ever told you that your hair is really pretty?” You asked, starting to break her hair into two parts.

She thought about it for a moment, before shaking her head slightly. “No, you would be the first to say that.” She claimed, resting both of her hands in her lap now that you were handling her hair.

“Really? I suppose your absolutely fantastic hair must be overshadowed by how great of a Watcher you are then.” You said decisively, giving Caramel Arrow a grin she couldn’t see. The tiniest amount of heat rushed to her cheeks, momentarily surprising her.

She didn’t have a response for flirting. The silence stretched, slightly uncomfortably on her side as she mentally struggled to find a new topic. “We- would you like to go get bubble tea after this? My treat.” She offered.

“Like a date?” You asked teasingly, which only made her want to curl in on herself in embarrassment. 

“N-no! As a… payment, for… helping me braid my hair?” Caramel Arrow Cookie answered defensively, but you gave the back of her head an unconvinced expression.

“Uhuh, sure. We’ll get bubble tea after I finish braiding your hair, but in a totally platonic not-date way.” You reiterated, making her sigh in exasperation.

The whole time, you had been delicately braiding her hair, crossing one side over the other and trading a small piece each time, creating an elegant fishtail braid.

By the time you were finished, tying it with a hairtie so that it wouldn’t slip out, her hair only reached to around her lower back, as compared to how it usually could touch the floor. The magic of hair braiding, you supposed.

“There! I’m all done!” You announced, not-so-gently pushing her off the bed so she would go over to the vanity. Caramel Arrow shot you a playful glare as she caught herself, then moved to the vanity, where she looked in a hand mirror to get a view of your handiwork.

“Oh, that looks beautiful, [Name]-Cookie. Thank you.” She said delightedly, setting the mirror down. 

Caramel Arrow Cookie took her dapho off the vanity, putting it on. She then gestured toward the door. “Shall we go now?”

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

All done!

[acpola01]

polites smiles thinking back on memories.

"we didnt choose that tree because it was special in any way but it became special to us from all the memories we made there."

polites laughs as he ruffles telemachus hair.

"And i would say it was worth it to make another happy memory together. every boy should have moments where they act out its a part of growing up and learning!"

oh yeah and ooc but here is the scene you wanted to see.

Eurylochus and Polites head over to their meeting spot waiting for Odysseus to join them. As they settle down by the olive tree when something small and hard smacks them on the head. They look up and sure enough Odysseus sits there cackling like the gremlin he is holding a handful of pebbles.

They glance at each other smirking before Eurylochus grabs hold of Odysseus leg and tugs him down. Odysseus tumbles to the ground with a yelp and it's their turn to laugh. He stands up brushing the dirt of his chiton and acts annoyed but he is barely containing his own laughter.

"yeah, yeah laugh all you want I was going to share something with you but now I might not since your being jerks."

Predictably the laughter stops as Eurylochus tries to act like he isn't curious while Polites doesn't even try to hide it.

"what is it? Can't you please tell us! We're sorry for laughing!"

Odysseus acts like he is thinking about it just to watch them get impatient and finally breaks once Polites brings out his puppy dog eyes. Odysseus laughs and takes off the bag he had on him.

"okay I'll show you."

He reaches in and pulls out three cups and a wineskin.

"I snuck some of the good wine from the cellar at home."

Both Eurylochus and Polites look interested. They were still considered too young for wine. Polites does look a bit conflicted and Odysseus elbows him.

"Come on Polites live a little!"

Polites rolls his eyes with a bright grin as Odysseus hands out the cups.

""I'm not that bad Ody! I'm just not as much of a troublemaker as you!"

Eurylochus snorts with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Yeah right we all know you can cause just as much trouble as Odysseus."

Polites gasps dramatically trying to hold back laughter along with Eurylochus and Odysseus.

"Lies, I'm just a perfect little angel!"

They can't hold it in anymore and all burst into laughter. It takes a while before they calm down even then they are a little out of breath. The don't mind though because this moment is so happy with all of them together, they wouldn't trade this for the world. Odysseus pours some wine into their cups. Polites raises his cup with a grin.

"Let's toast to having each other's backs!"

Eurylochus and Odysseus raise their cups as well letting them clink together.

"No matter what happens and where we go, we will always have each other!"

All their voices ring out together as they drink down the wine. They spend the rest of the night laughing and joking occasionally wrestling. By the end they are curled up asleep in a tangled heap with cheeks aching from smiling so much.

The next morning they will come to regret the wine when they get a stern lecture while having pounding headaches but they will still treasure the memory of that night and the promise they made.

“So you’re the friend mother told me about once..”

- @ithacas-prince

hmm possibly. your telemachus, ody's son right? guess im like your uncle then!

[sleepdeprivedpurpleteam]

WELCOME THE PURPLE TEAM

This askblog is dedicated to asking the purple-team OCs of @aerowolf any questions and interacting with them. They are the behind-the-scenes team in an AU of mine.

This AU includes Bidwell Scout brother headcanon.

If you want to ask Miss Pauling things without the context of this AU her askblog is @ilikeclipboards

TABLE OF CONTENTS :

Rules

Characters

Backstory

Tags

RULES

No nsfw asks please! The person who runs this blog is an asexual minor.

Don't be a jerk over all

Self shipping is permitted if you really want but please as mentioned no nsfw. Send them hugs and kisses and gifts all you want

CHARACTERS

another character in this AU is my oc @thefencertf2. feel free to ask her questions there about herself or her interactions with the purples

currently the characters you can interact with ( posts with their bios and art coming soon ) are:

The Manager — This is Miss Pauling

The Assistant — This is Mr. Bidwell

The Tailor

The Gunsmith

The Recordkeeper

The Chauffeur

The Courier

planned characters who aren't developed yet

The Chef

The Nurse

BACKSTORY

The gravel wars had been going on for far too long. The Mann brothers had their own armies in an infinite game of war, and the Administrator grew tired of their charade. Rather than interfering with their trade, she chose to start up a program of her own, a way to have her own proteges.

She begins this in 1949, when her own daughter, Francesca Pauling, is six, and enrolls her. Over the years she accumulates several other children, including every one of the team members mentioned above. She calls this program the Youth Convergence Program or YCP.

The program consisted of training each member to be perfect spies, to act, manners of etiquette, observation, handling weaponry, escapism, to feel no remorse, to have perfect pain tolerance. Surprisingly most did not lose their sense of morality, but they can be ruthless and are highly resistible to forms of torture.

Ten members went through the program but only nine are part of the purple team at the moment. The tenth one, Kennedy Roswell, escaped, but was later hired as the Fencer and is now a tenth class of the mercs.

Each of the members has now "graduated" and works normally under the Administrator, behind the scenes for her and the mercs.

TAGS

all character art will be tagged with "the [full class name] tf2 art" and all posts about them will be "the [full class name] tf2"

for example #the Tailor tf2 art or #the Recordkeeper tf2

#misc ask ( multi or non character specific asks)

#Reccy ask - Recordkeeper ask

#Tailor ask

#Gunnie ask - Gunsmith ask

#Chauffeur ask

#Courier ask

#Pauling ask

#Bidwell ask

#Admin ask — Administrator ask

#creator ask — I'd prefer if you mostly asked my ocs but this tag is for asking me directly

#ooc — when I'm talking out of character at any point

#purple team au or #purple team just general tags for this blog content

#the purple fencer — for when i mention or use Kennedy on this blog

[crystclvisions]

ooc : tag drop 

[seasonschange-butpeopledont]

How about prompt 2 from list 5 for Pero Tovar? 🥺 I think he would do this for his wife

Restless Nights, Early Mornings

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff. We only know soft!Pero here. Probably a bit OOC.

Word Count: 763

Author’s Note: A thing that I am discovering about myself as a writer is that I struggle without dialogue and reader is asleep for this whole thing so... This was a challenge. It didn't come out exactly the way I wanted it, but I am sending it out into the void anyway! I hope you enjoy! Prompt: “Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night" requested by @agirllovespancakes

Summary: Pero notices you've had a restless night. Taglist Form - Masterlist

Letting out a deep sigh, Pero propped himself up on one elbow, turning to inspect your sleeping figure. Worry lines formed between his eyebrows as you stirred once more. Pero had always been a light sleeper. It had served him well during his time as a mercenary, but had become unnecessary since settling down in a modest cottage on the edge of a sleepy little village and marrying the local blacksmith’s daughter. The life he led now was one of relative comfort, with regular meals, a warm home with a soft bed, and most importantly, you. The rest of the world may have seen him as a dangerous ex-mercenary, but you were different. You brought out a side of him that no one else would ever know– a soft, thoughtful man beneath his brutish, armor-clad exterior. The newfound comfort of his living situation didn’t stop him from jerking awake at the slightest noise in the night, ready to leap into action to defend you from whatever dared to disturbed his sleep. Most nights, this ability appeased his protective side and gave him peace of mind. Tonight, however, it was nothing more than a source of annoyance.

He would need to be up in just a few moments to begin his daily chores, but he had hardly gotten a wink of sleep with all of your tossing and turning in the night. If you had been anyone but his precious wife, Pero probably would have considered smothering you in your sleep just to get a decent night’s rest. Normally you were a more than pleasant bed partner, but rest seemed to evade you on this night. It appeared now that you had finally exhausted yourself into slumber, just before dawn. Guilt settled into Pero’s stomach as he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest. It seemed a shame to wake you when you had fought so hard to find sleep, even if there was work to be done. Winter would be here soon enough, and it was busy work preparing your little farm for the months to come. Pero frowned, thinking over the list of tasks the two of you had come up with for the day. The morning was dedicated to tending to the crops, but this afternoon you had planned a trip into the village to trade for a few necessities. He remembered you’d been excited by the prospect of the visit. You were such a wonderful wife to him, so much more than anything he’d ever imagined he would have in his life, and you had worked so hard these past couple of weeks. Clearly, the stress of preparing for the oncoming winter was getting to you... He could take care of your chores this morning, couldn’t he? Allow you to get a few precious hours of sleep and wake up refreshed for your trip into the village?

Yes, he decided. You deserved a good lie-in, just this once. Pero untangled himself from the quilts, careful not to wake you as he crawled out of bed and began lacing up his trousers and pulling on his boots. As if on instinct, you rolled over onto your side, snuggling into his now vacant pillow. Pero finished dressing and returned to your side, quietly hovering over you as he straightened out the bed sheet that had fallen to your waist with all of your tossing and turning in the night, pulling the bedding back to its original position. He carefully tucked the sheets around you, just the way his Mama had done for him as a child. The action had always made him feel secure, and he hoped it would do the same for you. You let out a contented sigh as he reached out to brush some stray hair from your face, nuzzling into his touch. Despite whatever insomnia had plagued you earlier, it relieved Pero to see you finally drift into a peaceful slumber. “Rest well, mi alma,” He ordered in a whisper, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead before heading out of your little cottage to begin the day’s work. Perhaps Pero would tease you about sleeping late in the morning or grump at you for keeping him up all night, but when you awoke a few hours from now to the sun streaming in through the window, safely tucked into your warm bed, you would know that it was the handiwork of your thoughtful, loving husband, whether he wanted to share that side of himself with the rest of the world or not.

General Taglist: @theravenreads @marshmallowtraver @computeringturtle @maythxthirstbxwithyou @artsymaddie @heythere-mel Pedro Characters Taglist: @pascalisthepunkest @coldlilheart @fuck-goes-on @spideysimpossiblegirl @grogusmum @fangirl-316 Pero Tovar (The Great Wall) Taglist: @freeshavocadoooo @darnitdraco

[frostahesmegabite]

How would he react, if he were transported into a "Steampunk" or "Cyberpunk" universe? 🤔 (I'll let you choose between the two.)

[ Good question @jacobdcheshyre! Thankfully with WoW and the Mechagon patch we had, I pretty much got to have that Steampunk sort of vibe for a little bit with the whole scrap yard piping everywhere sort of bit. Albeit, I know that's not 100%, but it gave me a good feel for how excited Mega would be! Needless to say, he walked away from that expansion with several new weapons designs and ideas as well gadgets and a new-found sense of purpose and inspiration. So, for a quick IC post, I'm gonna roll out with Cyberpunk. Now, forewarning, my knowledge here is limited, not out of lack of caring, just never got much time to explore it and my knowledge comes pretty much from Cyberpunk 2077 game, so I'm gonna essentially adapt him for that sort of lore/canon. ] A blinding flash of light and colors occurs! This isn't right! They're not only offensive to the eyes, but each sudden shift comes with a smash of concussive energy as if being hit by a sudden wash of air from an arriving hurricane. The largest problem isn't that it isn't just one, but a reoccurrence whose frequency is picking up in rapidity while being accompanied with the sudden shift of falling! Meghes begins to flip and roll, losing any track of what's up and down and he screams out into the cascade of colors! "Turn tha fuckin machine off! Bring me back!" Panic wasn't setting it, it was already there and was choking him out as he couldn't stabilize due to the turbulence and lack of identification on what was up or down, left or right! Bam! Bam! Bambam! BamBamBam! BAMBAMBAMBAM! Each forceful blow sent him flying in a whole new direction and he'd suddenly vomit, near ready to lose consciousness from it. Then... it settles and a bright light nearly blinds him, forcing his hands up just for him to realize that it's the Sun! Thank the Light! Maybe that was a bit to early though as he realizes he's still in freefall. This he can handle now that he has direction and he quickly flips around, gaining his bearing just to realize this sure as fuck isn't Azeroth anymore! As he flies down towards the ground, smooth towers of steel and glass stab up at the morning sky as if they were pointing up at his point of entry! He tries to scream, asking where the hell he's at but at this speed, words at lost and someone might as well have a leafblower pointed at his mouth. Around this moment is where reality kicks in and he sees the ground coming up -fast- and he casts a Feather Spell! Nothing. Panic sets in and he tries again. Still. Nothing. His mouth opens to scream but it sounds more akin to a blarglglgh! than actual vocabulary. He begins to slap himself, patting himself down for anything, mana crystals? All gone. No recharge. What the fuck?! His hands get to his vest, feeling around. Magical items all gone. Gold damn it! His hands go to his belt buckle, every goblin hand one and thank what the hell ever was watching over him, his belt was still there! His fingers twist off the buckle and he's given a small remote that's palmed and he hits the bright red button upon it, instantly activating his set of rocket boots so he can slow his descent! This wasn't going to save him, there wasn't enough fuel for that, but he had to slow down for the next part or he'd surely just fall to his death! With a few stalling blasts, the device in his hand begins to go off with alarms, warning to a low fuel source and with his other hand, he goes to his work vest and jerks on a rip cord! His clothing explodes out the back (thankfully not out of his ass!) and Goblin Glider's wings extend to the left and right above him as the boots propel him forward as opposed to down, helping to offer leverage so he can steer and glide down properly! Mega would need to thank Maxwell for that. Now though that this emergency was coming to a standstill, he begins to look around, trying to figure out just where the fuck he's at. "Tha hell did that Portal Machine take me..." Mega's body shakes from the adrenaline spike, but he maintains a grip as he soars overhead some mile up off the ground. His red eyes look

over the ground, trying to figure out who the hell built all of this! Was it Goblins? No. Not enough pollution or explosions, at least not here anyways. Gnomes? Maybe... but they tended to favor underground facilities and this certainly wasn't that either! Slowly, people come into better view and the site of vehicles and street vendors and people come into view and the signs! Oh all the signs! So many colors and advertisements! If it wasn't for all the humans plastered and shoved into all of them, he'd swear this was some kind of Goblin City centered entirely on Commerce and Trade, but that's when it hits him. This is nothing but Humans and Humans weren't like this... At least... not back on the Azeroth he knew. He needed time to process this, but with all the new sights and sounds, it was hard to do, even from way up here! "Where the fuck did that portal put me?!" He screams out, a new type of concern coming to mind now as he begins to look for a place to land. There's fucking people everywhere and while he's not familiar with what type of vehicles he's seeing, he sure as hell knows a road (Thanks Kezan!) when he sees one and he makes sure to steer clear from the Highway and the massive metal boxes going gold knows how fast! He starts to scan quickly, there! Trash bags! A heap of crap and junk on the ground, perfect! He begins to steer his glider into an Alleyway, bringing himself in and slowing his assent along the way until his feet touch down and he's left running. He plants his feet and pulls back against the Glider, using it as a counterweight to bring him to a skidding stop just before his crash pad of foul smelling trash! Phew! Mega didn't care about the Glider anymore at this point, nope! It was spent and he'd begin to rush towards the Alleyway entrance, hiding behind a dumpster to scan the area around him. "Well... smells like trash and shit here but... these humans." He pauses, seeing a human walk by with a set of massive mechanical arms that look like they could pulverize stone! But, they move so smoothly! They surpass anything he ever saw with Naturasu's prosthetics or anything the Gnomes or even Draenei came up with! These things moved as if they were essentially organic, but they weren't! Something in Mega's brain breaks in that moment and any fear or concern he has, suddenly floods out of him and is replaced by pure unadulterated excitement and he rushes into the street, scaring the every living fuck out of someone who thought he was some kind of overgrown rat or lab experiment until they see him dressed and moving with purpose! Megahes runs into the crowd and ocean of people, awe and amazement clear on his face as he gets way to close to several people with clear prosthetics and even some of them with weapons right there on their hips or backs! And some of their suits! Mega was in heaven! So many new things to explore! So much to try to take back... [For the sake of this already being -massive-, I'm gonna OoC cut in here and say that I think it's very fair that Megahes would probably have mental orgasms as he learned about everything and while he would try to find a way home, he'd also be working to try to learn as much about all of this that he can so he can take these ideas and designs home as well. Even if he wouldn't ever get back home, his apartment, home or where ever the hell he ended up staying would end up stuffed with nearly every schematic and idea design he could think of to take back. ]

[heartbloomed]

just popping into say.. so sorry to everyone i owe replies/messages/etc, i swear i’m still going to reply when my brain/life cooperates with me. things have been super busy & chaotic and i haven’t really had the muse to write as a result

hoping things calm down soon and i’m able to write again so i can get you all replies <3

[dokeblr]

The Shadow That Binds Us

Character/Pairing: Tokoyami x Reader

Summary/Prompt: Everyone's shadow is the shape of their soulmate, yours has a mind of its own.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Attempted kidnapping.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The looks were something you had begrudgingly gotten used to over the years. Growing up wasn’t easy, and there was some simmering resentment under the surface towards your situation, but you soon realised the trade-off was worth it.

Everyone had a shadow that didn’t match them, some were taller, wider, furrier. They walked behind, copied your every movement, shook with laughter when you did, shoulders sagging with your burdens. Those shadows were a dark reflection of your soulmate.

Your shadow had an attitude.

Most of the time it was bird shaped, shadowing you as normal.

On rarer occasions, it opened a pair of glowing golden eyes and moved about on its own, whining about the light or boasting about daring and radical fights it had allegedly been in.

It called itself Dark Shadow.

It drew attention when it came out to play, sometimes you’ll be in one room and find your shadow in the kitchen raiding your cupboards the next.

“Why does all your food suck?”

“Why are you in my kitchen?!”

It must have been hard for your parents, the trouble it caused. From your memories alone you can remember rare days where the neighbourhood kids would let you join in with their childish games of tag, only to run away screaming when your shadow got a little too excited and starting throwing kids in the air with screams of menacing excitement.

The kids never asked you to join again, neither did anyone else.

Solitude seemed to suit you, though. Staying in your room with curtains drawn, bed littered in books about cryptid hunting, alien sightings and general cryptozoological themes. Dark Shadow hung around a lot more frequently in those days. Those were your fondest childhood memories, a menacing companion to chase the negative thoughts away.

On one of those nights, flicking through the books as your candle-lit room and drawn curtains closed you off to the outside world, Dark Shadow popped up over your shoulder.

“You’ve read this one already, I’m bored!” The shadows voice was whiny, filled with an almost childish sense of brattiness.

“Then amuse yourself, I’m not.” Patience was a virtue you were forced to learn in order to cope with sharing an existence with the bird like creature, his immature demands not being all too uncommon.

Dark Shadow huffed, then with a rush of air across your shoulder he went to fumbling with your shelves and trinkets, some pencils cluttering off and ending up on the floor, but you resigned yourself to a sigh and made a mental note to fix it all later.

Not even 10 minutes had gone by before the book was being tugged out your grasp.

“Come on! Let’s go outside or something, your room is boring!”

Your eyes closed for a few moments whilst you gathered some composure, mentally debating whether or not to give in while Dark Shadow threw whines of ‘Come on!’ and ‘Let’s go!’ at you in the background.

“Alright.” You huffed softly, throwing on a large, thick wool coat in anticipation for the bitter night laying outside of your door. “Come on, try and stay under my coat please.”

Going out with a large, wiggly, living shadow was hard enough in the day when it seemed like the entire population was watching yo. Night-time, however, was a whole other game.

It made some sort of sense, that a creature of the shadows would become livelier and more untameable during the night. It was in its element, could swoop up above buildings and dive in between alleyways. Dark Shadow was less discernible during the night, but most of the people at risk of seeing him were usually the last people you’d want to capture the attention of.

Your boots made dull thuds on the pavement as you walked down an empty street, orange tinted lights beaming off the stray litter as you turned down a street filled with derelict apartments, sharp graffiti jutting out on most surfaces.

Dark Shadow was a little way off from you, further down the street and around the corner of an alleyway hissing at a cat, clattering against bins.

All your attention was on shushing Dark Shadow as you made your way further into the street, leaving you defenceless when an arm snapped itself around your throat and raised a sharp silver glint to your face.

“No sudden movements doll, keep your mouth shut and don’t struggle.” A retched smell was laced into the voice wafting into your ear like a plume of smoke, and up through your nostrils.

You had no intention of listening to him, not intending to go easy and you started struggling against his arm. It made no difference, as every jerk of your leg and tug from your arm was getting weaker and weaker.

Tingles were shooting through your nerves and your veins felt like they were being filled with liquid, your body suddenly felt weighted. You were becoming tired quickly, realising too late that you were under the influence of something.

A strangled cry managed to escape your tightening throat while your other limbs were starting to fail you, but as your eye lids grew heavy you looked ahead to find no one, not even a dark, shadowy trail leading to the alley.

You were alone, Dark Shadow was gone.

The despair wallowed deep in your gut, but you wouldn’t stop trying, buying yourself time in case someone, anyone, would turn a corner and help. Until a hero swooped from the rooftops and apprehended the disgusting villain that couldn’t even show you his face.

The resolve didn’t last long, as he was soon pulling you backwards, stealing you away. You were becoming drowsy, eyes drifting shut, your vision becoming choppy.

Dragged down the street, blink. Being hauled over a shoulder, blink. Chucked in a dusty van, blink.

The light was fading, the orange glow narrowing as the doors were being shut until suddenly the roof was dented, caving towards you and rocking back and forth.

It was a few moments before you realised the air was clearer, no longer smelling as putrid as it had moments before.

There was a ruckus, muffled yelling and discourse that your senses were struggling to adjust to. Blood was rushing back through your limbs, so much happening at once was disorientating you, you barely managed to drag yourself against the wall of the stale van.

You were too focused on gulping down air and trying to regain consciousness in your limbs to notice the doors opening fully until two sharp eyes filled with gold and surrounded by shifting shades of black and purples thrusted itself into your face.

“Hey, I’m back! Did you see me take down that loser? Practically did it by myself.”

Oblivious to your state of trauma, Dark Shadow was all boasts, waving about and rambling about his skills.

“Dark Shadow, that’s enough.”

You were lucid enough to realise that wasn’t the voice of the bird like creature, nor the man who had attempted to kidnap you. It was deep, blunt and resigned with an air of nobility.

The voice had come from just behind the door, and as you warily glanced towards it, you realised the shadowy trail that normally extended from yourself was instead leading outside of the van.

On shaky limbs you stood yourself up, still resting most of your weight onto the wall, and limped to opening. Your legs, still feeling full of static, gave out, sending your falling towards grey tarmac.

The impact was softer than you expected, still managing to wind you. Your body shifted, and muscled arms came around your torso to hold you securely.

With your vision still blurred, all you could make out was a dark, jagged figure looming above you.

“Dark Shadow?” Your voice was barely a raspy whisper, chest still heaving.

“My name is Tokoyami, Dark Shadow called me here to help with someone in need. I believe we are soulmates.”

Groans were escaping you while your brain whirled to life, attempting to process what you’d heard. Your body still hadn’t caught up, traces of the villain’s quirk still lingering behind your heavy eyelines.

“Soulmates?”

“Yes, I believe so. I had often wondered where Dark Shadow would disappear to, and whom the young lady that would take his place was.” A dark cloak was pulled over you, a hand threading through your hair and keeping your head safely held as you vaguely realised your change in surrounds.

“Rest easy now. You are safe now, dear.”

Safe was how you felt. With the warm and broad hand running through your scalp, you leaned into the body of your hero, your soulmate, and gave into the lulling call of unconsciousness.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ »»————-　♡　————-««

Notes: I cannot believe I got the one prompt about shadows for Tokoyami, what are the chances ahhhh!! I’m not extremely familiar with his character so sorry if this some OOC, especially with the dear petname (I spent a while contemplating add that but caved anyway). Hope you enjoy!

[xaelic-voidknight]

Balqadar of the Himaa - LFRP

Home Server - Balmung

Full Name: Balqadar of the Himaa Pronunciation: Ball-ka-darr Nicknames: Balq, Bally Height: Tol Age: 20 Zodiac:  Scorpio. Languages: Eorzean, Hingan, Old Auri (Xaelic)

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

Hair Colour: Black Eye Colour: Orange, with teal Limbal rings Skin Tone: Pale as fuck Body Type: Tall and muscular, but with the slim build that Au Ra males have Accent: He speaks Eorzean with a Hingan accent Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Posture: Terrible Scars: Nothing large of note Tattoos: None

CHILDHOOD.

Place of Birth: The Azim Steppes Hometown: None Birth Weight / Height: what Manner of Birth: what First Words: Probably Busudar’s name Siblings: Identical twin brother, Busudar Parents:  Batugai Himaa-Khatayin  (Father) and  Khumeg Himaa (mother) Parental Involvement: As a child, both his parents were very involved, but as he grew up his mother became more distant and his father became more involved.

ADULT LIFE

Occupation: Delivery boy, Hunter, Bartender, Adventurer Current Residence: He lives with his brother Busudar and father Batugai in Shirogane Close Friends: Kenbishi of the Himaa, his brother and aunt, his father Relationship Status: Dating @miqo-vynnie​ Financial Status: He doesn’t really understand money! Aluna takes care of things. Driver’s License: nope Vices: He’s kind of stupid but no real vices

Sexual Orientation: Homosexual, and possibly poly! He would be willing to give it a shot with the right person.  Romantic Orientation: Homoromantic, and possibly poly, see above. Preferred Emotional Role:  submissive  |  dominant  |  switch |  unsure Preferred Sexual Role:  submissive |  dominant  |  switch  |  sex repulsed Libido: Very healthy and enthusiastic Turn Ons: Praise, short boys!, sweetness, any sort of positive attention Turn Offs: cruelty, being hit (not counting spanking!), if you’re a jerk he won’t be into you Love Language: Gifts, spending time Relationship Tendencies: Balqadar is very gung ho and sort of goes all in on everything in life, including romance. He likes to be with his partners as much as possible! 

MISCELLANEOUS.

Hobbies to Pass the Time: Hunting, mending clothes and the like, basket weaving, finding new drinks to mix, climbing and hiking,  Mental Disorders: Dyslexia, small anxiety, does being possessed count? Physical Illnesses/Disabilities: stubbed tail and horns, as if the ends rotted and fell off.  Left or Right Brained: who knows! Fears: Being different than his twin, losing Busudar, upsetting Busudar, losing his aunt, losing Vynnie….loss of the few things dear to him in general is an enormous trigger for him Self Confidence Level:  hahahahahahahha Vulnerabilities: idk

RP HOOKS

Need a Delivery? I’m your man! : Balqadar’s aunt owns a trading and delivery service that services both the east and west! Balqadar can be found in Eorzean, Doma, and Kugane on the regular, helping with deliveries. Need trading supplies? Precious gems? Large supplies of food and/or drink? Call upon them for all your needs!

Active Lads stay active! : Balqadar does. Not. Stay. Still. He regularly hunts, hikes, and finds things to climb on, both in and out of cities. He manages to avoid serious trouble, but it’s super easy to run into him out and about, and he’s friendly enough to strike up conversation!

Dark Mist :  Balqadar has an abundance of aether...but it seems off. Almost...void. At first ‘feel’, one might take him for a voidsent rather than an au ra. Once in awhile, one might just get a glimpse of something lingering in him.

-------

OOC - I RP in game and over discord!

I’m 29 years old, live in Alaska, and work 1 full time job and 1 part time job, so i’m p busy, but I try to be online every few days! Discord sometimes works better, and my discord is available upon request.

My partner is disabled, and i have an autoimmune thing going on, so i may have to cancel rp plans or go afk at times if something comes up, so please take that into consideration!

[toastscraps]

The Way Home

Written for the discord weekly prompt “Sky”, based on @linkeduniverse. Characters owned by Nintendo and given breath by @jojo56830 ; I just pretend they’re mine.

Bonuses: 

- 3k + words - Yes - > 7.4

- NPC mayhem - Yes

- Short of Prayers - Yes, as far as I can tell

- Head in the clouds - Oh, you betcha

Warnings: mentioned character death, blood, wounds, angst, death from a child’s perspective

Other Warnings: backstory, very little editing, may be OOC, a child’s perspective, which may be inaccurate, not much research, author’s lazy writing and personal headcannons

Summary: Hyrule gets in trouble and Sky tries to get home 

               One instant they were in Wild’s Hyrule, marching through an endless field and laughing as Wind regaled them with tales from his pirate days. The next, they were in another world altogether, a forest by the looks of it. Immediately the talking suffocated into an eerie quiet.

               Legend chuckled nervously, breaking the silence. “You’d think, after all the times this has happened, that we’d be used to this by now.”

               “Whose Hyrule is this?” Time asked. No one seemed to know. It didn’t look familiar to Sky, but then again, he’d hardly explored his world.

               “It-it could be mine,” Sky offered hesitantly. Everyone turned to look at him, and he felt his face heat. “I mean, Zelda and I haven’t explored the whole Surface yet. This could be one of those places.”

               “In that case, it could be mine, too.” Wind’s hands went to the charm at his chest. “Tetra and I are still setting up our new Hyrule. But this doesn’t seem like it belongs on the new continent.”

               “Well, be on your guards. We don’t know exactly where we are; ignorance can be dangerous.”

               They tensed, preparing to be jumped by monsters. They continued to walk ‘till they came to a clearing. All was calm. Birds flew from tree to tree, singing happily to one another. A small stream with fresh, clean water burbled nearby. If there was anything malicious present, nature didn’t sense it.

               Time was the first to lower his sword. “The forest is quiet. And the animals seem happy.... I don’t think there’s anything here.”

               Shock was the first thing Sky felt. It seemed like they were constantly travelling, constantly fighting. There was always danger. But Time wasn’t mistaken. For now, at least, there were no keese or octoroks or even chuchus around. How was it so quiet?

               Warriors was the next to drop his guard. “I vote we stay here for the night. All opposed?”

               Legend sputtered at his friend and threw his hands in the air. “You can’t just vote on that! It’s not even noon yet!”

               To be honest, Sky could use a break. He began to calm as well and looked around. Hyrule had already put his weapon away and was peering at a bug on the ground. Wind was examining his surroundings with wide eyes, and Sky wondered how many forests he had been in; obviously not too many if the novelty of it hadn’t worn off yet. Of course, Sky wasn’t one to talk. He still felt a little claustrophobic surrounded by this much vegetation.

               Four relaxed, too, replacing the bow he’d taken out. He eyed Time in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “I wouldn’t mind taking a day to get my thoughts together.”

               “We need more supplies for food and potions,” Wild admitted. “It would be nice to just take the time to stock up.”

               “I – could use a break, too,” Legend muttered. Everyone turned to look at him and his face soured. “What? I’m not always adventuring. Or fighting. If we don’t have any pressing battles at the moment, why not?”

               Sky hated to pressure Time into anything, but, “If this is my land, it would be nice to try to map it out a bit, n’… get used to it.”

               Time was frowning. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a day off to rest and catch up.” Everyone cheered, but he wasn’t done, “But if you’re going somewhere, don’t go alone. At least pair off.”

               “I’ll go with Wild,” Twilight offered. “Someone has to keep him in line.”

               “I’m not that bad,” Wild muttered, but he gestured to Twilight and they went out into the forest to gather food and supplies.

               Wind had laid his things out and was already fidgeting. “I can teach you some fighting techniques, if you’re bored.” Warriors slung his arm over Wind’s shoulders. “I know moves you’ve probably never dreamt of.”

               Wind ducked under Warrors’s arm and danced away. “Hah! You wish! I have a few tricks that will make you look like a fumbling newbie!”

               “Oh ho ho! It’s on!” As they walked to the far side of the small park, Sky turned to Hyrule.

               “I guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

               “Huh?” Hyrule seemed to snap out of his thoughts as Sky addressed him. A butterfly flew off of his finger and into the sky. The younger hero looked over to where Time, Legend, and Four were setting up camp and talking lightly. “Oh. Yeah.”

               “Here,” Sky offered. “I’ll show you how to make a map… that is, if you want me to.”

               Hyrule glanced at the pack Sky was slinging from his shoulders, and then over to where Twilight and Wild had disappeared a half a minute before. He most likely wished he was doing something a little more fun than cartography. Oh well. Sky was feeling a little petty, and this was (maybe) his world. If the teen didn’t want to come, he could always find someone else. “…Sure.”

               “Alright.” Sky took out a compass and looked down at its reading.  He took out the magic chronometer Zelda had given him for his birthday and began to do the calculations. “It’s noon right now, so…” He frowned. They were quite a ways away from the approximate position of Skyloft; about ten degrees off in longitude, in fact. That was nearly a month’s journey.

               “C’mon, Sky! What are you doing? Let’s get going!”

               “Alright,” he muttered, and marked their position on the map. They began to head south.

               The air in the shade of the trees was nice and cool, a gentle breeze occasionally rustling through the tops. Birds called to one another, and furry rodents jumped from one branch to another, chittering as they seemed to fly. It was actually quite peaceful. Sky felt himself begin to relax and just enjoy the day. Hyrule was humming some tune or another beside him, looking around at the old trees and moss-covered boulders.

               “There’s probably some source of water around here,” Hyrule said suddenly from beside him, startling Sky. “See all the moss?” Sure enough, it had gradually begun to get greener and greener as they’d travelled. The trees suddenly thinned, and they came upon a large pile of boulders, as if some giant, ancient hand had gathered them up like marbles and piled them in the middle of the clearing. These had less moss, as they were heated by the sun, but lichens freckled their surface and sickly saplings sprouted from them here and there in an attempt to grow.

               “I want to get a bearing from there,” Sky said, nearly under his breath. Hyrule loomed over him in interest as he knelt to grab his instruments. They were hand carved and worn from years of use, marks carefully, accurately placed to optimize precision.

               “Hey, what are those?”

               “These are the tools of the trade,” Sky replied. “These are what you use to get home.”

                 “I’m sorry, Link, but they’re not coming home.” The words made no sense to Sky. How could they?

               “When are they coming home, then?” he asked again. He didn’t understand.

               “They are – Link, they’re gone.”

               “Where did they go?” His four year old mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He’d been awakened early that morning by Pipit’s mom, but Pipit hadn’t come along to play. His was still asleep in the little house next door. A big man with bushy eyebrows had arrived with Mallara, a breeze of wind blowing through the house at their entrance. It had startled Sky awake. He’d thought it was his parents returning, but these weren’t his parents.

               “They…. They went below the clouds, Link.”

               “But… they’re coming back, right?”

               Mallara and the man exchanged glances. Why were they looking at each other like that?

               “Link, they can’t come back. They… they’re lost to us, now.” The man’s thick eyebrows drew together in concern.

               “No, Momma said they’d be back. The sun’s not up yet…”

               Pipit’s mom slowly knelt down and grabbed Sky by the shoulders. Her blue eyes shone wetly. His own were beginning to sting, for some reason. “Oh, Baby, they… they can’t. They’re gone, honey. They’re below the clouds. No one comes back from there.”

               Sky was beginning to panic. What was going on? Why couldn’t they come home? “No!” he wailed and jerked himself out of her hands. “I want my mommy and daddy! Where are they!?” The sky was beginning to lighten, villagers were opening their doors and birds were soaring through the heavens. Someone a couple of plots down laughed. “They’re coming home!”

               “No Link, they’re not.”

               In his panic, Sky bolted. The man let out an exclamation of surprise as he ran through their little yard and out into the common roadway. His parents were coming back!

               He made it all the way to the edge of the island. “Mommy! Daddy!” he called out desperately, but no one answered. A cold wind blew at him from below and he shut his eyes and put up an arm in front of his face. Hot, wet tears were beginning to flow down his cheeks to drip off his chin. “Daddy! Mommy! Please…” He fell to his knees and covered his eyes. There was a loud sound as air was displaced, and he stumbled back, startled, as his parents’ two Loftwings landed in front of him. Ember, his mother’s golden-brown bird, gently nudged him with her beak, pushing him back further from the edge.

               “Where is she,” he whispered, hugging her nose. The large bird stayed quiet and still. His father’s mount, a grey-blue male called “Dusk,” came up carefully behind and hooked his neck around his shoulders. Sky began to sob, the birds calmly absorbing his tears and shudders. He was only partially aware as footsteps approached him from behind and stopped.

               After a time, Dusk released his hold and Ember gently prodded him to his feet and pushed him to the adults. Once Mallara’s arms were securely about his shoulders, the bird backed up to join Dusk at the edge. They took off into the skies, their forms disappearing into the distance. Sky was numb as he was led toward Pipit’s house, the big man having disappeared at some point.

               Pipit was up when they got there. “Mamma? Where’d you go? Oh, hi Link! What’s wrong?”

               Sky shook his head. His parents were lost. They weren’t coming home.

               “Pipit, Link’s going to be staying with us for a couple of days,” she said gently. “Why don’t you go get a place ready by your bed for him?”

               “Okay! Link, you wanna come help me set up?”

               Sky could only nod, words now stuck in his throat. Pipit grabbed his hand and led him to his little corner. It was neat and tidy, clothes carefully folded under the bed, straight and clean. The window at the front of the house was open, a fresh breeze blowing through.

               “Sorry my bed isn’t made,” Pipit prattled on excitedly, “But look! I just got a new bed set!” He ducked beneath his bed and pulled out a matching blanket, comforter, and pillow. “You can use it if you want!” They were embroidered with Loftwings and clouds. But Link didn’t want the new blankets, even if they did look soft and comfortable. He wanted his own.

               “This is gonna be fun!” Pipit exclaimed as he laid them out on the floor. “We can stay up and tell each other stories, and we can go outside and watch the knights fly!”

               Sky didn’t want to stay at Pipit’s. He wanted to go home and snuggle under the covers and wait for his mother and father to wake him up.

               “And then, we can use this map my cousin made to find lost treasure!” Pipit shoved a crude drawing done in crayon toward Sky’s face. “See? X marks the spot!” He pointed to a red mark near the large waterfall.

               Sky straightened, his tears disappearing.

               Pipit pumped his fist. “I knew you’d like treasure hunting!” Sky didn’t care about any treasures, though. His parents were lost. But what if it was because they didn’t have a map? Maybe they could come back if they knew where he was. Ember and Dusk had probably gone searching for them, that was why they flew away! They would need a map to get back!

               Sky ignored Pipit’s surprised yell as he ran toward the kitchen area. Pipit’s mom had all sorts of clutter just lying around the house, and one of those things was a stack of paper. Sky grabbed a sheet off the top and a piece of charcoal from the box beside it. He frantically set the paper down and began to draw on it. First he drew a picture of his house, with the path leading down to the road. He drew Pipit’s house next door, and then the neighbor’s house on the other side. He drew a line for the edge of Skyloft, and then snatched a red crayon that was resting among the stack of charcoal, which he used to mark his house with an X. He was aware of Pipit behind him, standing awkwardly as he drew.

               “Link, what are you – ” Sky didn’t give him a chance to finish, jumping up and running with his drawing toward the open window where the breeze blew out. It sucked the page from his fingers and the map went flying into the air, the wind carrying it out to the open sea of clouds. Pipit stood awkwardly behind him. Sky watched as it became a tiny speck and disappeared. “What did you do that for?”

               Sky didn’t answer, looking out into the blue expanse. His mom and dad would come home. They just needed a map.

                  After that first map, Sky drew hundreds of them. Nearly every day he would take a piece of paper, a bit of charcoal, and he would sketch out directions to his house. About a week after his parents were lost, the knights came in to his house and cleared their things out. He watched silently as furniture and clothes were taken out and put into storage for him to inherit when he got older. He got his blankets and pillow back, but only because he was moving to the Academy. Pipit’s mom couldn’t keep him; she hardly made enough money as it was.

               Gaepora, the man with the big eyebrows, showed him his room in the bottom level of the Academy. It was large and fairly spacious, with its own furniture and closet. The bed was much too large, and his little blankets didn’t even touch the edges. The first night there, he panicked. It was too big; everything was too big. It wasn’t right. There should be two more bodies in the room with him. He wanted his mother and father. He bundled his pillow and blanket under his arm and practically ran out of the building. It was night, and the air was fresh and cool.

               Sky gasped as he stumbled out onto the lawn, trying to catch his breath, and looked up at the stars. They shone out, a necklace of diamonds and pearls befitting the goddesses. The moon had risen; its face half full but bright. Sky laid out his blanket and placed his pillow at the top. He shivered as the temperature dropped and dew began to form on the grass around him, but he refused to go back in and instead watched as the lights of nature’s ceiling danced toward the west.

               He woke up the next morning in the academy room. Someone had tucked him into his bed and covered him with extra blankets. But he was alone. No one was there to greet him or to run their fingers through his hair and tell him it was alright. He felt tears fill his eyes and ducked his face into his pillow as he sobbed. He’d dreamt that his father had been the one to carry him.

               Paper was harder to get at the Academy than it had been at Pipit’s house. It’s not that there was less of it, just that it was hidden away. Sky had learned quickly that paper with writing on it was not to be used to make maps with. The students got really angry when those got sucked out the window.

               But he found Gaepora’s office. There were shelves and shelves of books (all with words on the papers, so he couldn’t use those) as well as a set of drawers on the far end. The whole room was nearly as large as Pipit’s house. The top drawer had some paper, as well as bits of charcoal. There was no red crayon, but there was a bottle of beet juice that he must use to grade, and a feather pen. Sky was too afraid to touch it, but he still had an end of crayon from Pipit’s house, so he used that.

               He discovered the map in one of the classrooms. He took to sneaking paper in there after hours and copying the map as best as he could onto the paper. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure where the Academy was on the Map. He pointed at places on the map until one of the students was kind enough to tell him where everything was after class one day, reading the big words he couldn’t. He carefully placed an X where he was currently staying and walked to the edge of the island, where he let the air take his message to his parents. Gaepora had begun to teach him the basics, and he picked up on counting quickly. He spent hours examining buildings and measuring footsteps to different landmarks and to the edge of the island. Many times, after releasing a map into the sky, he would sit on the grass and stare out over the sea of clouds, waiting for the birds to return, or for a sign that it had reached his mom and dad. He never spoke. When he learned to write his name he began to sign his sheets “LiNK” before letting the wind rip them from his hands.

               Everything went into those little maps of his.

               But then one autumn day one of the knights caught him throwing the paper off the island. He was led back to the Academy, where he was given a strict talking-to. He didn’t understand “resources” or “precious” or “recycle” or “limited”. He didn’t understand “renew” or “mulch” or “mass” or “forever”. He understood “gone” and “wasted” and “useless.” But he wasn’t wasting anything. He was using it to find his parents. Sky never spoke, even after being reprimanded. There was nothing he could say.

               Sky was in the middle of drawing a map the next afternoon when a Remlit jumped up and climbed the tree above him. The branch shook, an overripe fruit dropped to the ground, breaking open with a wet squelch. Charcoal froze on paper, and he didn’t know why, but he began to hyperventilate then and there. Tears fell from his eyes as he hid his face behind his knees. Gone. Gone, gone, gone, gone. Fell beneath the clouds. Fell so far –

               Sky stopped sending messages out to his parents after that and withdrew into himself even farther. He never smiled anymore; who was there to smile for? He continued to sneak out at night and stare across the cotton sea at the stars and to watch the sun cut its path through the heavens. He never answered anyone’s questions, and tended to ignore people when they talked to him. He still took paper and charcoal out of the drawers, but had stopped trying to draw the shape of the island and the network of buildings and roads. Instead he’d begun to map the sky.

               The child woke up one morning after having fallen asleep trying to trace the stars to wide blue eyes and a nose inches from his. He startled, lurching up and back as he scrambled away. The little blond girl that had awakened him giggled into her hand, undaunted by the fact that he’d nearly busted her face. Her pink dress swayed in the breeze.

               “Hi, Link!” she greeted. “My name’s Zelda. My father’s told me so much about you! He said you might be sleeping outside.” Sky had seen her before and knew that Gaepora had a daughter, but had never really paid much attention. She usually ran around with a red haired boy that was a year or so older than they were. “C’mon! We have breakfast waiting for us back at the Academy. You don’t want to miss it! Today it’s sweet squash and nut pear!” She pulled on his hand ‘till he rose to his feet and took his lantern. She handed him the papers that had been resting underneath and dragged him along with her to the dining hall. Sky didn’t know what to think of Zelda. She was different than the adults and the students, who tended to tiptoe around him. Other kids avoided him and he didn’t understand why. Her presence didn’t remove the sharp shard in his chest, but it did ease it a bit. She sat next to him as they ate, prattling on about this or that, and asking him questions he didn’t know how to answer. Her father sat on the other side of her, talking to one of the other instructors about lesson plans for the day. The breakfast was hot and steaming, and normally Sky couldn’t taste anything, but like the sun Zelda had cleared away the morning fog and he was realizing how good it tasted.

               “Oh! Father, you should see what Link is making!” She suddenly exclaimed, surprising him. She grabbed his left hand and pulled it upward where her father could see his map of the stars. Her father looked at it briefly and chuckled.

               “Why, that’s a mighty fine bracelet you’ve drawn, Link,” he said.

               Sky frowned. It wasn’t a bracelet.

               Zelda sighed in exasperation with as much attitude as her six-year old self could muster. “It’s not a bracelet, dad! They’re stars, see?” Gaepora looked closer and his eyes widened.

               “Link, did you make this?” he asked. Sky nodded and shrank, unsure if he was going to get in trouble or not. “This is wonderful,” he said, his hands spreading the papers out to make a more complete map. Last night Sky had gotten quite a bit more of the heavens in, though he’d fallen asleep before he reached the bright one that he’d really wanted to get. “I suppose you aren’t making maps of the island anymore?” Sky shook his head.

               “You used to make maps of the island?” Zelda asked, looking at him curiously. Sky nodded. He wondered why they suddenly cared. “Why did you stop?”

               Sky opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. He’d stopped because he’d been told he could no longer send messages out, and because he’d finally realized his parent’s weren’t lost below the clouds. They were beyond where his maps could reach.

               They were with the stars.

                  Gaepora had seen his interest in map-making and star charting and began to supplement his regular curriculum with geography and geometry. He taught him about angles and calculating the distance between far away objects. He cracked open dusty old books that had theories on how to navigate based on the celestial bodies and learned alongside Sky. Between the two of them they mapped the entire island over the course of a year, fine-tuning their techniques until it was indistinguishable from the ones that were made by flying high above the island and drawing its shape.

               In the summer Pipit taught him to climb trees and look for dead branches. He learned to carve spoons and bowls and other useful things from the wood, carefully storing away the wood curls for compost later. The men sometimes took out rotting posts that had been in the ground for too long, and after cutting the soft crumbles away the children turned them into walking sticks and treasure boxes. Pipit was selling them to help his mom.

               Sky used his knowledge to make a tool he’d seen in one of the old books. It was supposed to make measuring angles at a distance easier. He had to take it to Gaepora for help to make accurate marks. He attached the mirrors and scope, and for a few days played around with it to see how it worked. Zelda had begun to come along with him on his ventures as he surveyed the land, once again drawing little sketches of sections of their island.

               Sky grew older and stronger, and eventually Zelda was able to coax him out of his shell a little bit at a time. She asked why he kept making maps when he’d already made one of the island.

               “I want to make sure I can find my way home,” he whispered. “I don’t want anyone to get lost.”

               Zelda was startled, both by hearing his voice, and by the words. “How could anyone get lost? No one flies that far from Skyloft.”

               And Sky didn’t have an answer.

                 “It’s called a sextant,” Sky answered. “It takes angles between different celestial bodies to tell you where you are in the world. You can make a sort of grid for your measurements, and map everything out. You use the chronometer and the sun for most of it.”

               “Huh,” Hyrule bent over and looked at it, but his posture screamed bored.

               “You don’t have to pretend to be interested.” Sky chuckled as he raised the instrument to the sky. Now that he was high enough on the boulders, he could see the horizon.

               Sky measured and calculated and marked the place on the map. He took his angle from the north to an interesting mountain peak in the distance and to several other landmarks he could see, using a protractor to get the angles. He left the lines, knowing that it was a poor idea to try to find the distances without going to those places first.

               They continued to wander around, Sky marking their path and adding interesting points to the map. Hyrule admired flowers and brought out his own sketchbook to draw a few of them. It was peaceful.

               The edge of a swamp brought them to a halt. “I probably should mark this,” Sky mused, looking in both directions. There was a large boulder, but it wasn’t nearly tall enough to see above the trees. He found an old wide willow and began to scale its branches. When he was at the top, he was able to make out the horizon and get what he wanted. Once he’d done the math and drawn an arc to represent the edge, he hopped down and turned to Hyrule. “Alright, we should probably head back. I want to make sure my measurements were right and get supper while it’s hot.” Sky looked up from where he’d packed the tools away to find he was talking to air.

               “Perfect,” he muttered. He took a deep breath. “Hyrule! Hyrule! C’mon, let’s go!” The younger hero didn’t answer, and Sky grew slightly annoyed. Then he noticed boot prints in the soft mud of a land bridge. Sky sighed. The teen had been doing so well, too.

               Sky followed the trail to a wide open area where no trees grew. There seemed to be some sort of solid path made out of logs and sticks to a wide raft or landing pad type thing in the middle of the pond- like area. And there was Hyrule, bent over and staring at something on the ground.

               “Sky! Come look what I found,” he said, grinning. He was petting something grey and fuzzy and approximately the size of a pig in his arms. “They’re so soft and tame! I didn’t realize we had any flightless birds like this!” The animal in his arms was gangly and ugly, but there was also something very familiar about it. Sky couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

               Suddenly his eyes widened in realization. “Hyrule,” he said lowly, “put the fledgling down.”

               Hyrule frowned. “What do you mean, fledgling? This bird is way too big– ”

               “Hyrule! Put it down, NOW!” There was a cry in the sky as a familiar shape swooped toward them. Hyrule visibly paled and quickly put the smaller bird down, backing away cautiously, his feet stumbling off the raft and onto the bridge. The brown-grey Loftwing landed fiercely between its chick and the boy, lowering its head and opening its mouth with a hiss. Its wings spread out threateningly, its tail rising into the air. Sky felt ice run through his veins. He had only seen a Loftwing position itself like that once, and that was when Pipit’s bird nearly took off his ex-stepdad’s arm after the man had been hitting him in a drunken rage. He had been in the infirmary for almost two months and had never gone near Pipit or his mom ever again. “Easy,” he cautioned, putting his arm on Hyrule’s shoulder before the younger could draw his sword. “We’re not gonna hurt you or your babies,” he was sure to keep his voice low and calm even as the teen eased his shield in front of his body. They were nearly to land. The great bird continued to stalk after them, hissing threateningly.

               The moment they got to semi-solid ground the two turned and ran, slowed down by the mud sucking at their boots. A loud cry pierced the air and the sound of flapping followed them. Sky made sure to place himself between Hyrule and the animal, raising his shield to block the attacks of talons and claws. He grunted as he pushed, hoping to knock the avian off course a little. It delayed it just enough that the two made it under a half-fallen tree, which the dam promptly ran into, tangling itself in the vines and causing the trunk to crash into the ground behind them. It screamed at them as they continued to try to make their way out of the swamp.

               “Phew, that was close,” Hyrule panted.

               Sky stiffened. “Wait,” he whispered. “Where’s the mate?”

               The older hero barely had time to tackle the teen to the ground as a shadow appeared above them. As it was, flaming hot agony tore through his back and he screamed, his shield bouncing against the ground as they landed. To his credit, Hyrule acted quickly and rolled out from under Sky, raising his shield to block a second attack. There was a metallic thud as the bird bounced off, but Sky was only aware of the pain shooting across the small of his back and up his to his shoulder blades. He stumbled to his feet and attempted to raise his shield. A heavy weight slammed into him as the bird collided with Sky, knocking his head against a rock. He bit back a scream as the furrows in his back made contact with the ground. Gritting his teeth he tried to push it off with only the tempered steel between them, but his arms were trembling and a giant beak was headed for his face. There was a banging and clanging as Hyrule yelled and tried to scare it away. The yellow drake turned its head from its victim and gave an angry hiss at its challenger. Its weight left Sky as it charged Hyrule.

               Groaning, Sky rolled over and propped himself on his trembling left arm, throwing up what was left of his breakfast as his head pounded. The world was spinning, and Hyrule was trying to scare off the protective male. Sky must have lost track of time, because between one moment and the next Hyrule was jerking him up off the ground, rushing him toward what looked to be a very weathered outcropping of limestone. He was quickly ushered into a little hole in the ground with the younger hero following closely behind. The bird screamed and hit the side of the cave, clawing uselessly at the entrance. Little pebbles and waterfalls of dirt piled at the bottom, but it had all been loose stuff that had collected atop the stone. Eventually it gave one last hiss and left them there, presumably to fly back to its mate.

               Sky’s back was on fire. He didn’t want to move, but Hyrule had other ideas. He was yanked into a sitting position, where his soaked shirt was lifted and cold hands touched the raw skin.

               “Oh crudthisisbad.” The words came rushed and whispered, and Sky groaned, letting his chin rest against the younger’s shoulder. He felt so tired. “This is my fault.” Sky heard the sound of a flask opening. He was pushed slightly backwards and a bottle was pressed to his lips. “Here, drink this.” Sky obliged, the burning across his back lessening a bit. There wasn’t much in the bottle, but it helped. He sighed.

               “I’m sorry,” Hyrule said again moving behind him, but Sky could hear the relief in his voice. His head was pounding and the world was lopsided, but he managed an answer.

               “Na’ y’r fault. You din’t kno.” Sky heard rustling, and then a gurgling, and then something wet was being pressed to his back, dabbing at wounds and wiping away grime. Sky hissed when it made contact with torn flesh.

               “I should have, though,” Hyrule said. “They were wild animals. I should have left them alone.”

               Sky hummed. “T’ be ‘onest, ‘ve ne’er seen a fledgling ‘fore. Din’t rek’nize it ‘till…” he yawned. All he wanted to do was sleep, but the washrag was reawakening the fire down his back.

               “Don’t go to sleep yet. You have a concussion.” How did he know?

               “I know because you’re slurring and your pupils are uneven.” Hmm. Good point.

               He was pushed lightly, and then cloth was being wrapped around his middle by gentle hands.

               “Now, tell me about your ‘spectant’ thingy.”

               “’S call’d a sextant.”

               “…My name is way better.”

               “’S ‘cause t’s one-six ‘f ccccircle.”

               “Okay, so, what do the little marks do?”

               Sky fought to stay awake and talk about his tools. At some point the wrapping stopped and his shirt was lowered again.

               “’N th’ chronometer‘s special. Zelda m’de it f’r me out ‘f Timeshift stones. C’n tell Univers’l Time and Loc’l Time any pl’ce an’ era.”

               “Fascinating.” Sky looked up and tried to tell him more, but Hyrule shushed him. “I think it’s gone.”

               Sky snorted and smiled. “’Could’a tol’ja th’t.”

               Hyrule rolled his eyes. “So sassy. Let’s get you back to camp.” Sky felt a firm grip on his arm as he was lifted to his feet. He blinked as the cave spun around him, and struggled to stay upright. Hyrule went up to the entrance first, looking carefully in all possible directions. He pushed their packs and weapons through first, and then when nothing happened led Sky closer. Sky was leaned against something cool and hard, his legs trembling as he watched his friend go through next. The older hero waited a couple of tense moments before Hyrule’s face reappeared, his hands reaching down. “Alright, I’m gonna try to pull you out, but you’ve gotta help me, OK?” Sky nodded and gripped Hyrule’s forearms, and between the two of them they managed to tug him out of the hole.

               Sky was left on the ground, huffing and panting as Hyrule shouldered both of their weapons and bags. Suddenly someone’s arms hooked under his own and helped him up. “You alright?” Hyrule asked. Sky nodded and tried not to puke as the forest became a blur before settling again. “Alright. Easy now.” His arm was pulled around the shorter hero’s shoulders and he was led toward the edge of the swamp. They circled around slightly in an attempt to avoid entering the large birds’ territory.

               “So, you seemed pretty familiar with them.” Sky was glad for the distraction Hyrule was giving. “What were those things?”

               “Lof’wings.” He’d never realized they nested on the Surface.

               “LOFTWINGS?” Hyrule cried incredulously. “Those birds you said everyone flew on in the sky?”

               “Mmmhmm.”

               “Those weren’t predators of some sort?”

               “Nnn.… I dun thing so, ‘nywa’. ‘N Skylof’ ‘ey jus’ ate pun’kins.”

            ��  “These were wild animals!”

               Sky just shrugged. Maybe they acted differently when they were nesting. Who was he to say? They always seemed to spawn out of the clouds when he was younger.

               “When did you get your Loftwing?”

               “We dun get ‘em; ‘e’re two halv’s to a ‘ole.”

                  Sky wasn’t whole, and he didn’t know if he ever could be again. He felt like wood chips left for composting; weak and shredded and only held together by fragile static cling. Zelda and Gaepora helped keep him from blowing away completely, being the string purse that would shelter him until he could put himself together enough to enjoy the sun. But they weren’t glue, and he was cracked in so many places he wondered how he didn’t just crumble completely.

               Through Zelda’s prodding and Gaepora’s gentle understanding, he’d slowly emerged from his self-imposed hermitage. He was no longer able to go out at night as it had become increasingly dangerous, but he’d become less dependent on solitary contemplation. He’d begun to talk in audible, if brief, sentences, and was proud that Gaepora trusted him to run errands, including looking after his Remlit Mia (but only during the day, Link; she’s not safe at night). He puffed his chest out when Zelda’s father said he was the best errand-runner he’d ever met and soon became well known in his village as the seldom-spoken delivery boy. He was only ten but was making enough in tips people gave him to buy his own paper and charcoal.

               He was getting something for Owlan (he couldn’t remember what; not that it was important) when he overheard two men talking behind the Bazaar. Normally he would have just ignored them and continued on his way, but he overheard his name.

               “Yeah, poor boy. ‘S got no one left.”

               “Parents fell below the clouds, didn’t they?”

               “Yeah, heard it was an accident. Dark cloud of keese flew into them and blinded the birds. Halk and Tanaja were knocked off their Loftwings, or so they say.”

               “What, and the other Rescue Knights couldn’t get to them?”

               “….”

               “The whole thing reeks, if you ask me.”

               “I heard they were lower than usual, or something. It would have been too dangerous for the others to dive after them.”

               “Cowards. They didn’t even try?”

               “They had their own families to look after.”

               “Poor kid. Didn’t even have any bodies to bury. Something like that…how could you get closure?”

               Sky felt the world around him freeze, his errand for Owlan forgotten. His parents could have been saved? There was a chance they could have been brought back to him? His mom could have woken him with gentle strokes to his hair? His father could have carried him on his shoulders to the Bazaar that day like he’d promised? He tried to remember their faces, and in a panic realized that he couldn’t anymore. What color were their eyes? Was his mother short, or tall? Did his father have a low, gravelly voice, or a calm, steady one? Cold shock turned to deep, unsettling sorrow. Something hotter, deeper down burned, and he barely held it in as he sprinted away, pounding up the stairs to an enclosed courtyard.

               The ember deep inside burst into flame as he came to the top, and he screamed to the sky, curses landing against dead rock and sobs hiccoughing into cracked tile. Why had they been taken from him? Was he not worthy of even their memories? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t… Why? Couldn’t they have been saved? Didn’t he need them more than the heavens did?

               He screamed, anger and fury leaking out as hot tears as he allowed himself to mourn. His ears twitched as he heard footsteps behind him, and he bit the base of his palm to keep himself from crying out any more. His body shook with sobs, but behind his eyelids were flashes of faces he did have, a counterpoint to the ones he’d lost. As if summoned, he heard a hesitant voice behind him. “Link? A-are you okay?” Zelda’s words were soft, but he couldn’t answer. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block her out. He didn’t want her to see him like this.

               “Link, stop! You’re hurting yourself!” Gaepora was there, too. Immediately Sky was aware of the taste of copper in his mouth, and he heaved as he removed his hand from his mouth, a string of red saliva following.

               Suddenly an angry scream pierced the air, an echo of Sky’s furious cry from earlier. He looked up, startled out of his downward spiral by a shadow in the sun. It was diving toward him, wings stiff and tail straight. It called again and slammed into the base of the stone, flapping and flailing as it righted itself to land in front of Sky. It wasn’t the most graceful thing ever; in fact, its crimson feathers were ruffled, fuzzy and spotted in patches that indicated it was just barely a juvenile. Its neck was long and gangly, its legs awkward and unsure as it stumbled forward. Its head was a little too big, its tail just a smidge too short. And immediately something in Sky settled, like a Remlit in the sun, like a bee in a flower; like a boy with his bird.

               Do I know you?

               A large beak pressed against his chest, healing the ache there, and he brought up his hands to caress the bridge. Red smeared on it, and in a distressed huff, Sky rubbed it off with the sleeve of his other hand. The bird made a small cry, and Sky decided that, yes, he did know this bird. He knew it like he knew the feeling of charcoal between his fingers, Zelda’s soft smile, and Gaepora’s warm voice. For the first time in years, he felt whole.

               The Loftwing nudged him until he got onto its back, something surprisingly like – no, it was – joy bubbling up inside of him. He gave a whoop and a laugh as suddenly they were launched off the ground. Rider and mount became one, climbing and dancing through the air in celebration. Sky had been found.

                  “We’re lost,” Hyrule concluded.

               “We’re not lost,” Sky said, his slur having disappeared five minutes prior. He was walking (limping) on his own, though he was still having trouble seeing straight, and everything was bright.

               “Yes we are.” The younger hero shook out the map Sky had been working on. “I can’t see any familiar location.”

               Sky squinted past the glare to the paper in his friend’s hands. “You’re holding it upside-down.”

               “Oh.” Hyrule righted the map, the x in the middle now above the rest of the drawings. “I still don’t know where we are.”

               “There’s a mountain around here. It’s the only one for miles. I drew it on the map.”

               “No you didn’t.”

               “It’s a line of sight, not a specific location.”

               “I don’t… Oh. Never mind. How do I work this thing?”

               Sky huffed in amusement. “You are a traveler, right?”

               “Yeah, but I don’t use a map. I follow my natural instincts.”

               “Natural instincts? Does that include petting wild animals?”

               “…Shut up.”

               Sky sighed. “The top of the paper is north. The compass arrow always points north.  We just came from the swamp, and we’re on the other side of the path from the mountain.”

               “So, head toward the mountain?”

               “For a little bit, anyway, until we find a familiar landmark.”

               They found their mark five minutes later when Hyrule spotted a good sized pond they’d taken a measurement at. With a little prodding from Sky, Hyrule was able to use the compass and map to make their way back to the others.

               It was getting dark, but Sky’s head was already feeling better. He could see their campfire ahead, flickering happily. Laughter and relaxed chatter reached them, and Hyrule turned to him with a grin. “You’re a genius, Sky! We’re home!” Hyrule said it casually, but Sky felt something inside him warm.

               Home, huh? A small crowd cheered as Wind pointed a practice sword triumphantly at Warriors’ chin. Legend was jeering good-naturedly while Time and Twilight watched on. Four was having an amiable, one-sided conversation with Wild. As they joined the others and potions were brought out, Sky couldn’t help but smile. Home wasn’t a place; it was the people you were with. He could be weeks, months, years from Skyloft, but he was never lost. He had found his way home.

[regnigt]

Usopp for the character questions meme! Requested via Twitter!

This has some (vague) One Piece spoilers up through the current arc.

favourite thing about him He's a wonderful mess of contradictions who somehow fit together seamlessly. Fearful yet courageous, a liar who uses his power for kindness, a braggart who steals the credit but entertains people in the process (and who doesn't care if anyone knows the *really* important stuff he does); who's intensely engaged in the people around him yet his ambition is one that only he can decide if he's reached or not. A warm-hearted guy who can be a bit of a jerk; a prey for dark emotions who's more negative than negative ghosts, but who's also one of the most loudly enthusiastic people on the crew... And I love that he's a big talker. He doesn't always say the right thing, and he knows it: but he keeps trying. Just like he keeps trying to restrain his darker self and focus on the joys of life and the spirit of adventure. He's a marvel and I love him so much. ♥♥♥♥♥

least favourite thing about him Pre-timeskip: he can be a big jerk sometimes, but mostly he should try to like himself more and be better at remembering how amazing he can be; to have more faith in his own abilities. Post-timeskip: It's not him, it's Oda *sigh* who apparently forgot how to write him for any longer time after Punk Hazard at least. (Very OOC, unrecognisably so, for a big part of Dressrosa. Okay at Zou but absent in the following long Rescue Sanji arc, and now at Wano he's.... kinda around, but is mostly ignored)

favourite line Usopp: Silence!!! Are you saying that YOU can beat him, lying there half-dead?! Luffy: I'M gonna beat him!! He's MINE! Usopp: Then GET ON YOUR FEET! Stop lying face down on the ground! This isn't like you!! Covered by smoke or not, you can still see the sky! You can still see the water!! It's not like this is Hell! So stop looking like you're dead!! Stop breaking our hearts here, dammit!!!

brOTP With all his crewmates; with the Usopp Pirates; possibly with Kaya

OTP Luffy/Usopp ♥♥♥

I also like to ship him with Nami, Zoro, Kaya, Sanji, Franky, Robin, Vivi, Ace, Smoker, etc... and as part of trios: with Nami & Usopp, Zoro & Sanji, Zoro & Nami, Sanji & Nami, Robin & Franky... back when we wondered if Sogeking would be a permanent persona, I saw an intriguing ficlet with Kaya/Usopp/Luffy/Sogeking. ETA: Oh, and I also love Merryshipping! That is to say, an OT5 with Luffy/Zoro/Nami/Usopp/Sanji.

nOTP I guess I'm not wild about shipping him with villains, unless it's in the context of some kind of redemption scenario. (On the other hand, if it IS? That has a lot of nice potential...)

random headcanon 1. That blue-and-white armband he's rarely seen without doesn't have any obvious emotional weight in something he might have been given by his mother, or a memento of his father, or anything like that. It was just a scrap of cloth from a neighbour he sew into an armband in his younger teens. Only it happened right as people had started to tell him he needed to grow up and get rid of those stupid pirate dreams, learn a regular trade and think of the future. He decided not to listen to them and also that he'd make this armband a symbol of his determination; as long as he wore it he would keep his dream alive and one day he WOULD go to sea wearing it on his arm, seeking Adventure.

(Over time, though, after he'd actually joined the crew this inner declaration faded and he realized it wouldn't matter if he lost the armband or put it away for a while: he was wearing his resolve in his heart now where it couldn't be taken off. But he still loves the old thing, and thinks it makes him look cool.)

2. Sometimes he imagines himself as a wizened old man telling people about all the things he's witnessed, as the legend of Monkey D. Luffy. At other times he deeply questions whether he will ever live to an old age.

unpopular opinion I don't know how unpopular this is, but I've seen a good number of fans assume he's anxious in various social situations, that he doesn't want people to pay attention to him, and that he doesn't like being reminded of his long nose. This is all wrong. He knows his nose is long and doesn't have a complex over it; he only gets scared of obviously or probably dangerous things and people, and/or supernatural stuff - and he utterly loves being in the centre of attention. He's an extravert, he wants to be around people. He can entertain himself when he's alone (just like Luffy), but just like Luffy, he prefers not to have to.

song i associate with him I'm lame and can only think of One Piece songs like my two faves, Kokoro no Chizu (opening), and Eternal Pose (ending)

favourite picture of him This would take days and days to answer even 10% properly, even if I just stick to wading through my own Tumblr trawling for fave pics. So here, have a fluffy Lusopp pic from the anime which I legitimately do adore!

[ephrampettaline]

How much does your character's physicality impact their personality? Are they very body-conscious? Does it affect how they view other people's bodies?

OOC: HUGELY.

On a basic subsistence level growing up, Ephram spent a lot of time hungry, which made him acutely aware of bodily needs and how one physical sensation could distract from another (sometimes he’d jerk off to try and take his focus off his empty belly). Ephram was also very androgynous as a kid/teenager. He was able to code-switch to ‘boy’ enough to not get messed with, but he was pretty happily genderfluid when allowed to be himself. 

Two things fucked with that in a big way: FCI Ashland, and Anaxis.

In Ashland prison, at age 17, survival came down to Ephram dealing with the general effects of incarceration on bodily autonomy, as well as physical & sexual assault, a lot of forced feminization, and having his body traded and sold multiple times. 

When he got out of prison at age 21, Ephram was very much at odds with his body, since it hadn’t really been his own for four (formative) years. Which led to coping mechanisms of substance abuse and putting himself in harm’s way, whether that meant getting into fights or going home with poorly-advised sex partners or working himself to exhaustion.

It was also when Anaxis started to stir more purposefully, and the demon took delight in gnawing away at Ephram from the inside whenever Ephram’s vigilant willpower dropped. Which although it meant a near-constant buzz of low-level pain, was miles better than when Anaxis actually got control of Ephram’s body and put it through the wringer – doing terrible things to other people with it, letting horrible things happen to it – knowing that Ephram was entirely aware of what was going on, could feel it all, but couldn’t control anything.

So Ephram ended up enormously body-conscious in every possible definition of the term. From 17 he was literally trained to accept that his body was nothing more valuable than meat to be used, so he never particularly took care of himself. He could never be alone in his body, so what did it matter?

Other people’s bodies, though, took on an almost holy, ecstatically lovely quality in comparison to his own. Which is why Ephram truly finds something physically appealing in just about everybody, whether that’s sexually or not. 

This long-ass story has a happy ending, though! 

At one point early in their relationship Freddie witnessed Ephram breaking the shit out of his hand by punching a wall, and asked him in no unclear terms to please not hurt himself like that anymore. Which startled Ephram into acquiescing, and the principle of the thing spread to include not doing drugs, not drinking to excess, not throwing himself headlong into danger. It got him to a point where he saw his body as something worth taking care of, and he wasn’t in such emotional agony that he needed physical pain to help deal with it.

After he nearly died when his magic-less body rotted and deteriorated from being unable to contain Anaxis, Freddie magically rebuilt him from scratch and that took away the many scars Ephram had gotten in prison. Which (along with the unexpected infusion of fairy dust) did plenty to help Ephram move on from seeing his body as something forever tainted with the filthy things that it had endured.

So now Ephram’s in pmuch the best, healthiest physical shape of his life. He’s becoming sufficiently at ease in his skin to start expressing some of his innate genderfluidity again as well as revel in the aspects of masculinity that he loves.

After prison and hard living stripped away his youthful prettiness, he’d figured he looked good enough to get by on, nothing more than that. But with Freddie’s careful, steady efforts at grooming and proper feeding and constant care, Ephram’s gotten to a place where he can look at himself in the mirror and actually see something beautiful. 

[thedelanceybruddas]

Can you teach me how to rp Morris, i’m really bad at it and it’s a problem

ok so this is super late BUT youre giving me a good excuse to put together my Morris Personality HC™ so thank u anon. i apologize that this is focused less on roleplaying him and more on writing him but. i think that’s close enough.

ok so if we’re looking at the script of the musical we know that Morris is a HUGE instigator. his lines, in order, are: “you want some of that too, ya lousy crip?” - “hey Oscar, looks like it was bum information we got about a strike happening here today. not that i’m complaining; i know my skull bustin’ arm could use a day of rest” - “hey, ya working or trespassing? what’s your pleasure?” - “shut it, ya stupid crip!” - “and now, we’ve been given discretion to handle you as we see fit. yeah, so behave.” - “you can sleep right here, on this old printing press. *SMACK SMACK* now that there is firm.” 

a lot of his character is displayed through his physicality; when Race says his whole “it would be a pleasure to tell Weasel myself” line, the camera cuts to Morris and Oscar, and Morris does a sort of pointy ‘i’m watching you’ gesture; a lot of Morris’ threats are just physical gestures not included in the script. the way the actor plays him makes him seem a little less like a goon and more like a jerk older brother; constantly taunting and provoking the newsies, but not really rising to action unless he gets a reaction. every line in the script might have a threatening gesture accompanying it, but it’s like he’s daring the newsies to do anything and doesn’t really have a plan if they do take him up on it. when jack knocks the Delanceys down with Crutchie’s crutch, Oscar is immediately for retribution (“just wait till I get my hands on you!”) but Morris doesn’t respond at all; he follows his brother in chasing Jack, of course, but for someone who keeps talking big game he has no response for when the newsies actually fight back. this rule changes for Crutchie; out of the two Delanceys, Morris verbally and physically attacks Crutchie whenever he gets the opportunity. you can have your own interpretation as to why, but it isn’t excusable.

when he and Oscar are (presumably) hired by Pulitzer to intimidate Jack, Morris takes more of a hands-on approach; when they’re in the distribution yard, Oscar is the one that handles talking to the Newsies the most with little back-and-forth quips and jeers and such, while Morris only talks to them before work starts, either at the gates or just as they’re coming through them, or when his job is to beat on them. he seems to care about seeming responsible/mature when we see him working, whether for Wiesel or Pulitzer, but especially the latter, since that’s when he takes control of the situation the most; presenting the printing press to Jack, telling him to behave — Oscar only has one line in that scene, and that’s to add on to what Morris was saying with a threat (“but just in case, I’ve been polishing my favourite brass knuckles”). when compared to when he’s working for Pulitzer, it’s seems like he’s letting Oscar be the boss of the distribution yard by deliberately keeping out of things; now, I see Morris as the older brother (I have a post saying why) so I interpret this as Morris letting his baby brother do the cool stuff like handing out the papes and talking to the newsies while he handles the dirty work. whatever interpretation you choose, the point is that Morris very rarely speaks to the newsies when he starts working (i.e. after the gate has been unlocked.)

you may notice that literally every single line in the musical is him either instigating a confrontation or him taunting the newsies. if we look at the 1992 script (minus that one scene because dear god please do not use that scene for roleplay inspiration) its a lot more detailed in stage direction + it has a few different lines so we can learn a bit more about him!

the first direction in the script for Morris is for him to push past Jack with ‘deliberate aggression’. when Oscar pushes Snipeshooter to the back of the line, 'Oscar and Morris glare at the crowd, daring anyone to do anything about it.’ – basically that whole first scene with them is showing that they’re just stupid tough goons. in the scene where the Delanceys are chasing jack, at one point, when Morris has him, the script says 'Morris lifts him high into the air to smash him onto the cobblestones.’ However, this doesn’t happen in the actual scene; the only time in Carrying the Banner that’s remotely similar to this is when the Delancey’s are fighting Jack inside the circle of newsies, where Morris pushes Jack down and tackles him, showing him as the heavy-hitter of the duo, further enforcing that he’s the brother who gets his hands dirty.

later, when Jack gets the extra paper for Davey from Wiesel, Wiesel is PISSED and the script says that he backhands Morris (who isn’t even the one who gave Davey the extra paper). This doesn’t make it into the film either (probably because it’s kind of dark, GEE DISNEY DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS DARK) but it could point to Weasel being abusive towards the brothers.

morris, compared to oscar, seems super sadistic, especially when he grins at Crutchie before he and Oscar drag him off to the cops - and later in the script Crutchie fills us in that Oscar and Morris 'worked him over’ - either before or after turning him in.

we don’t see anything special specific to Morris again until a while later, after Jack becomes a scab; script says 'The Delanceys pass by; Morris grinning at him, bouncing a club in his hand.’

however, this isn’t accurate to the movie, as Morris has a blank, almost annoyed expression. this is significant due to Oscar’s next line: “come with us, cowboy. we’re gonna fix your pal Davey today — fix 'im so’s he can’t walk no more.” Morris tells him to shut up, which, in the script seems like it’s supposed to be said in a way akin to ‘shut up dude, we’re not supposed to tell him that’ but the way the actor delivers it seems more like ‘too far, shut up.’ watching the scene, you can see how Morris slowly shakes his head as Oscar speaks, and the ‘shut up’ is delivered as he pulls Oscar away from Jack. this line is the one that I’ve noticed most fans using to interpret Morris as more sympathetic. if you do want to play Morris semi-sympathetically or try to redeem him, this line is what you want to look at.

the next Delancey scene is weirdly violent and disgusting for Disney and i know it’s a cop-out but i tend to ignore it so i will not cover it here.

one last note is that after jack beats up the Delanceys for The Previous Scene Morris yells “Ya better run, cowboy – we’re tellin’ Weas! You’ll be back in the Refuge by supper time!” haha tattletale

some extra stuff that may or may not be canon: morris’ trading card reads ‘Born in SoHo and worked on the family farm. Abandoned by his parents, believes in survival of the fittest and sticks like glue to his brother, Oscar. They work with their Uncle Wiesel, keeping order at the distribution window of “The World”.’ it’s pretty likely that Mike Faist wrote this, but it’s nice to use as a kind of baseline for Morris’ characterization. Mike also says in the Meet the Newsies video for Morris that “deep down… y’know, really deep down, he’s actually like a really nice guy.”

across both versions of Newsies, we have these consistencies: Morris and Oscar work for their uncle Wiesel (they call him Uncle Weas in the movie), they fight with the Newsies at least twice, and they fight the most with Jack.

we also have the discrepancies: first, the ableism toward Crutchie. in the musical, both of the Delanceys (but mostly Morris) single him out from the other newsies specifically to bully and harass him for being disabled. Morris calls him stupid, assaults him, and calls him a slur twice. it’s obvious that he does this because he’s disabled. for example, Morris snatches his crutch away after Racetrack and Oscar start fighting (“ain’t your father one of the strikers? “guess he didn’t take care of me”) yet does literally nothing to Racetrack who’s the one that started it in the first place, not to mention that Crutchie really didn’t do anything besides stand nearest to Morris. in contrast, the 1992 version has a scene that basically mirrors this scene, except instead of Morris making Crutchie fall over by taking his crutch, Oscar shoves one of the very smallest newsies, Snipeshooter, towards the back of the line of newsies (“in the back you lousy little shrimp.”) Morris is of course still abrasive in the 1992 version, but the only time he SPECIFICALLY picks on Crutchie is when he’s literally the only one left in the distribution yard after the chaos, and Oscar and Morris are basically working in tandem at this point. Oscar kicks away Crutchie’s crutch, then they both drag him away by his shoulders — Morris does kind of menace Crutchie with his baton, but he doesn’t hit him. Throughout the entire movie (and the bar is touching the ground), at no point do Morris or Oscar call Crutchie a slur.

the ableist slurs and behaviours by Morris in the stage musical were probably included because there are basically no other opportunities to show the Delancey’s villainy, since Sarah isn’t a character and Jack never works for Wiesel — in regards to Morris’ personality and writing him, it’s probably meant to showcase either a superiority complex, his sadism (as evident in the 1992 film), or the ‘survival of the fittest’ mentality referenced in his trading card bio.

basically, when writing Morris I’d pick and choose from every one of his showcased aspects between both iterations, and I wouldn’t fall into the trap of trying to make him so sympathetic that he’s OOC. he’s mean, confrontational, vindictive, petty, violent; he looks out for his brother, tries to be responsible, and doesn’t seem to hold a grudge (especially against Jack). of course, since he’s supposed to be a one-dimensional Disney villain, you have to add some depth by yourself. for example, I headcanon that he’s older than Oscar to add a kind of asshole older brother dynamic. honestly, you don’t have to consider every single bad thing he’s ever done in canon when writing him; imo writing Morris is harder than writing Oscar because, since Morris is more stoic and physical than Oscar, it’s much harder to try and imagine his motivations and thoughts, much less build a personality that’s redeemable. Just imagine canon Morris as the skeleton and then build on top of it; don’t take away what he is OR how he’s hurt other characters, but build on top of it. just be prepared to think up a metric fuckton of headcanons.