#the fact that his pincers are gone

[getvalentined]

Seem's best friend is a brass crab with no pincers that I got from a consignment shop for $8

[dragonkeeper19600]

Submas Headcanons: Ingo in Hisui

As promised, here are some headcanons about Ingo's life in Hisui. I am working on a Submas reunion fan fic which will go into greater detail on what Ingo experienced after being sent back in time, but I thought I'd compile some of the stuff that I'm not planning to cover in that fan fic.

Most of these ended up being about Ingo's relationship with Gligar.

When Ingo first arrived in Hisui, he was discovered unconscious in the Coronet Highlands by a Pearl Clan sentry named Jiro and his Pokémon, a Gligar.

Pictured here.

Jiro was kind of a greenhorn and initially panicked when he saw an unconscious stranger wearing clothes he'd never seen before. He didn't want to try to move Ingo by himself, but he also didn't want to leave him there with wild Pokémon roaming around and where he could get exposure.

He ended up ordering Gligar to watch Ingo while he went to get help.

Unfortunately, Jiro had never really gotten the hang of training Gligar and when he came back with another sentry, they found Ingo gone and Gligar munching on berries from a nearby tree. Ingo had, in fact, gotten up and wandered away aimlessly while Gligar was distracted.

The sentries were eventually able to make contact with Calaba, who was able to use Ursaluna to track Ingo down.

By the time Calaba and Ursaluna caught up with Ingo, several hours had passed. Ingo was exhausted, scared, and confused. He was dismayed when Calaba asked him who he was and where he had come from. He had been hoping that the first person he saw would be able to explain those things to him.

After spending the night in the Coronet Highlands, Calaba and the others brought Ingo to the Pearl Clan Settlement in the Alabaster Icelands so that Irida could decide what to do with him.

The clan had a meeting to discuss what to do. Ingo was not invited to this meeting. In his amnesiac state, he was helpless as a child and quietly waited for the clan to decide his fate. Calaba, in particular, was in favor of dropping him off with the Galaxy Team's newly established settlement. They were always doing strange things and wore strange clothes. Ingo was probably one of them.

But Ingo had already claimed no familiarity with the Galaxy Team, and Irida didn't feel right about Ingo being passed from faction to faction like an unwanted stray. She decided that Ingo would stay with the Pearl Clan until they could determine where he had come from.

Ingo was grateful to the clan for allowing him to stay, but at first, he was frustrating to have around. He had no idea how to survive in Hisui and had to be taught how to do everything. Gaeric, in particular, was amused by how "scrawny" he was.

The one who gave Ingo the most difficulty at first was Calaba. Soon after Ingo was told he could stay, Calaba pulled Ingo aside and basically told him that he owed his presence here to Irida because if Calaba had her way, Ingo would be on his way to the Galaxy Team.

Ingo took those words to heart and worked hard to prove himself worthy of Irida's compassion.

However, what Ingo quickly came to realize is that while he was hopelessly inept with physical chores, such as harvesting crops or chopping firewood, his knowledge of Pokémon surpassed anyone else in the clan. He was able to name most of the Pokémon species he saw on sight, and his intuition about their behavior was usually more accurate than even that of the clan elders.

Ingo was an especially great help to Jiro, who had never managed to really train his Gligar.

Jiro had hatched Gligar from an egg. He had come upon a pack of Sneasel raiding the nest of another Pokémon while patrolling the Coronet Highlands. The Sneasel scattered when they saw him approaching, leaving only one egg left.

Jiro felt bad about leaving the egg out in the cold by itself, so he picked it up and started carrying it with him everywhere. It eventually hatched into Gligar.

Nobody else in the Pearl Clan really liked Gligar. Its stinger, pincers, and grin creeped them out, and it was constantly getting into their food stores. Many wished Jiro had simply left that egg in the wilderness.

But Ingo was able to give Jiro advice on disciplining Gligar. Ingo taught Jiro how to discourage poor behavior with a firm tone of voice and reinforce positive behavior with treats and praise. In particular, they discovered that Gligar really enjoyed Mushroom Cakes, and using them as treats was highly effective.

Jiro was impressed with Ingo's guidance and gushed with praise for Ingo's knack with Pokémon to anyone who would listen.

However, Jiro and Ingo's friendship was destined to be short-lived. One day, Jiro had a fatal encounter with an Alpha Rhydon in the Coronet Highlands. Gligar survived, but he did not.

There were no human witnesses to Jiro's death. The only other living soul who saw what happened was Sneasler.

Now, at this time, Sneasler didn't have a warden. Her previous warden had been a close friend and peer of Calaba. Sneasler's warden often used to joke that she wasn't as young as she used to be and ought to think about retiring soon. Keep in mind that she was around the same age as Calaba and thus in her late 90s.

One morning, she simply didn't wake up. She had passed away in her sleep.

Since then, Sneasler has had no official warden. Various sentries of the Pearl Clan took turns feeding Sneasler in shifts. Several candidates for the wardenship had been sent Sneasler's way, but Sneasler had rejected all of them. Like Calaba, Sneasler was not over her warden's death.

Sneasler saw the Rhydon attacking Jiro but wasn't able to get there in time to save him. After driving Rhydon off, she picked up Jiro's body and carried it back to the Alabaster Icelands.

The entire clan mourned, Ingo not least of all. Jiro had been his friend and the man who found him in the first place. He felt he owed his life to Jiro and was devastated he would never be able to repay that debt.

But the one who seemed to be the most heartbroken was Gligar. Gligar had followed Jiro's body all the way back to the Icelands, and spent much of its time whimpering in Jiro's hut.

There were some in the clan who hoped that Gligar would leave once Jiro had been buried, but Ingo realized that Gligar had spent its whole life around humans and wouldn't know how to survive in the wild.

Ingo began leaving out food for Gligar. In time, Gligar started following Ingo around just as he'd followed Jiro.

Gligar was especially needy during this time, always climbing onto Ingo's shoulder or into his lap, wanting to be petted. Ingo tolerated all these cries for attention with patience.

One night, he remarked to Gligar that as miserable as it felt, in a strange way, he envied Gligar in its grief. Gligar, at least, knew what it had lost.

Once in a while, a merchant from the Gingko Guild would stop by the Pearl Clan Settlement to sell their wares.

On one occasion, after Gligar had started living with Ingo, Ingo looked over what the guild member was selling and was astonished to recognize Poké Balls among his wares.

The Ginkgo Guild member apologized. He actually hadn't meant to display the Poké Balls, since members of both clans tended to be deeply offended at the sight of them. The merchant was astonished when Ingo offered to buy 10 of them.

Ingo showed one of the Poké Balls to Gligar. Gligar didn't know what it was and tried to eat it, so Ingo had to wrench it out of his mouth.

Once Gligar had come to understand that it was not food, Ingo gently explained that this device was called a Poké Ball, and it would allow the two of them to stay together. He urged Gligar not to be scared and tossed it.

The catch was successful on the first try, but Gligar was alarmed when Ingo called it back out again and panicked slightly. However, it quickly grew accustomed to the ball and even responded happily if Ingo pulled it out after a long day. Gligar came to see the Poké Ball as a place of refuge, a hidey hole just for it.

Naturally, the rest of the Pearl Clan was put off by Ingo embracing Poké Balls. Even Irida wasn't pleased. But, the clan did have to admit that if Gligar was in the ball, it was much less likely to get into their food stores.

The clan was even more astonished when Ingo used his cache of Poké Balls to catch a Machop. In no time at all, he had the Machop chopping firewood and carrying it back much more easily and efficiently than Ingo himself ever could.

The clan still didn't like the Poké Balls, but Ingo’s command of Machop quickly made him an asset. People were always asking him for Machop's help with chores. Can Machop carry this? Can Machop break that?

Machop, and Ingo, were only too happy to oblige.

Ingo began spending more time out in the wilderness, taking on Jiro's old patrol duties. He felt much more at ease out in the wild with the Pokémon than back at the settlement.

One day, he came across Sneasler, who was acting not at all like her usual self. She'd been downcast ever since Jiro died, and Ingo found her sitting on a rock, starting down at the ground.

Ingo approached her cautiously, but she allowed him to get near. He could guess at what was bothering her and comforted her, saying that Jiro's death was not her fault. Furthermore, he was certain that the clan was grateful to her for bringing his body back for a proper burial. He told her that she was a valuable member of the clan and pet her on the head. Sneasler let him.

Another sentry from the Pearl Clan saw this interaction at a distance and reported back to Irida. Both the sentry and Irida were astonished that Sneasler had allowed someone to pet her.

Sneasler had been prickly ever since her warden died, avoiding and snapping at clan members who came near her, refusing food, showing her teeth. Even Calaba couldn't calm her.

Sneasler even had a history of being mean to Ingo. Once, when Jiro was still alive, Ingo had accompanied him when it was his turn to feed Sneasler. When Ingo saw how uncooperative Sneasler was being, he scolded her, saying it wasn't right for her to be so contentious with Jiro when he was just trying to take care of her.

Sneasler had responded by swiping Ingo's cap and running off with it. Gligar had to chase her down to get it back, as Ingo was completely incapable of keeping up with her.

But now she had not only allowed Ingo to approach her but actually pet her. Ingo was not only some kind of Pokémon savant but he had actually managed to reach her when everyone else had failed.

This got Irida's brain churning...

[polarspaz]

InfectionRE AU Tidbits #2

Another eccentric solider living at the base with Leon is named AJ. He's from Maine and he works security during the night shift, specifically from the rooftop outside.

Leon stays up late, ((He is more active at night)), so he often encounters AJ when he's looking for some fresh air. Sometimes Leon will even keep him company, help him chase away the hours of tedium with some idle chat.

It's during one of these conversations that Leon learns about AJ's obsession. Cryptids, Bigfoot especially.

The first time it's brought up AJ explodes into this literal hour long rant about his theories and various stories he's head. In fact the main reason AJ accepted this job was because of it's remote location. Which, according to AJ, was prime Bigfoot real estate.

Leon doesn't really buy it, but he plays along, knowing AJ likes to talk about it. ((plus the stories, Leon finds, are ironically really entertaining)) However his opinion changes only a few months later.

One night, Leon goes into the woods with AJ to collect some trail cameras he put on some trees outside the perimeter. Leon hates the cold, but he hates boredom even more, so he shuffles behind AJ even though his teeth and pincers are rattling.

It's pretty uneventful until they come across the third camera. Just as AJ is about to take it down from the tree, Leon notices the lack of life around them. The constant noises of the forest, birds calling, animals playing, bugs singing, they were all gone. Nothing left but suffocating silence.

Before he can make a remark, an inhuman scream shatters the stillness around them. Leon has heard nothing like this before in his life, and he's heard a lot of crazy sounds. Zombie moans, Licker shrieks, Birkin's guttural wheezing and roars, hell, even some of the noises he made freaked him out.

But this scream, someting about it scares the hell outa him. Whatever made it sounds at least a mile away and he wants nothing more than to turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

He looks down to see AJ is crouched next to him, completely still and looking straight into the dark woods with wide, trembling eyes. He opens his mouth to say something when the scream bellows out into the night again, only this time it sounds like it's only 100 yards away.

Leon doesn't think himself a coward, but every single one of his instincts is screaming, RUN. DEATH. DANGER. RUN. RUN. Even more disturbing was the fact these feelings were coming from him and not the Plaga. ((which is starting to get scared now that Leon is freaking out.))

After the second scream, AJ takes off like a shot and Leon follows right after him. The rapidly encroaching sounds of the twigs snapping and guttural panting is all the encouragement Leon needs to just pick up AJ and run even faster.

They make it back to base in less than five minutes.

The whole time AJ was chanting, "Run faster! faster! OHFuck-Fuck-FUCKOHGOD-!" and he only stops when Leon dumps him onto the floor, slams the door shut, and slumps against the wall gasping for breath.

-Leon and AJ tell no one. When they go back to the same spot the next morning the cameras are missing. The animals and noises are back but some of the trees look like they were violently ripped in half. Even with his mutated strength, there was no way Leon could even do that himself, so what the hell did?!?!?!?

Was it....BIGFOOT!?!?!

[colgatebluemintygel]

hello there tp!! might i pls perhaps have a little taste of sad soggy scottish seaside au (aka selkie remus)....🤭 a fun fact or two or perhaps a minty fresh lil snip....🤭😌 hope ur having a lovely week MUAH xx

SASHH ofccc one sad n soggy snippette comin up just for U ! <333 (i chatted about the premise here w everyone's fav wild cat also xxx)

It was a strange thing to be awake, Remus thought. It was not often that he simply existed, without a thought of what was to come or what had already passed. It was only at night when he felt really, truly present.

Each night moved in waves, in blue echoes and the tang of salt. Tightly embraced by his sealskin, the sea carried his in the palms of its hands, the currents passing him from one to another.

Surrounding him with its heavy lightness, the sea muffled sound, softened light, and let him float, float, float. As he swam, he’d catch glimpses of his tail, his seal fur golden in the moonlight.

Some nights, he paddled in rock pools as clams looked up at him, their smiles wonky in the rippling water, while the splashing waves whispered words of comfort. Hermit crabs inched around him, threatening him with tiny their pincers. He ignored them as he bathed beneath the stars, his whiskers twitching.

Other nights, and they were the worst, were a blur of red, bloody red. He would go to bed in the early hours of the morning, hair damp and salty, with angry welts down his arms and legs, where jagged cuts had marred his golden fur.

Every night, while the rest of the manor slumbered, Remus would creep down to the rocky inlet where his golden sealskin was hidden.

Every night, he held his breath, only to let it out in relief.

Until one day, it was gone.

[theredlanternavenger]

The Saga of Fire King Zazzalil

(i WILL write this one day, i promise)

Inspired by Burn by lilfinch.

Setting is a somewhat futuristic world, where humans, machines and alien immigrants live in harmony. Hatchetfield was founded by a human and a bug, who were the first mayors of the town.

Some respects to the DCEU Snyderverse will be paid, such as the factor of the Super Friends being a league of six, with Mera as a seventh member.

The Lords In Black are morally ambiguous, and they and Webby were once mortals who ascended to godhood by going beyond the impossible and kicking logic to the curb. They promptly went against a crusade against the Abrahamic God, and each one had a hand in subduing him although it was Webby who dealt the killing blow.

Zazzalil, Lex and Hannah are Owen and Curt's adopted daughters, and they all have different powers, Zazzalil's being the most obvious one:fire.

Jemilla is the adopted daughter of the chief of police Molag, and unlike her mom, she firmly believes that superheroes are the cause of all trouble in the world and that puts her into conflict with Zazz.

The Princess is called Jasmine, in line with the Disney Aladdin movie.

Keeri is Max Jägerman's twin sister and they both lust after the same woman.

Installment #1:The Fire King

Zazzalil Carvour-Mega is a student of Galaxia High in the tiny town of Hatchetfield. After hearing the legend of the Lords In Black from her local librarian, Sherrezade, she aspires to be like them one day, despite being just a normal girl.

One day, she stumbles upon a mysterious meteor, and suddenly finds herself on fire...but not harmed by it. Impressed by her new powers, Zazzalil sets out to change the world, under the moniker of Fire King. But balancing school time and hero work is not an easy job, especially when Jemilla Jarrett, the most popular girl at school, loathes her Fire King identity. To make matters worse, Zazz finds herself falling for Jemilla...

Pairings:Zazzalil/Jemilla, Mouthface/Princess, Keeri/Grace Chasity, Grunt/Emberly, one-sided Tiblyn/Chorn, Bug/February, Lex/Ethan, Steph/Pete, Tim/Craphole, Tootsie/Mega-Girl, Taz/Up, Ja'far/Sherrezade, Paul/Emma, Curt/Owen

Installment #2:Fire King, Meet Super Friends

After defeating Snarl, Zazzalil becomes an internet sensation and, what's better, she's now officially dating Jemilla. Her newfound fame catches the eyes of the Super Friends, the protectors of Earth, and she is arranged to meet them. She expects to go to the big city...but turns out the Super Friends are coming to Hatchetfield, much to her surprise.

Meanwhile, Chief Molag reveals to Jemilla a deadly secret, along with what happened to her birth parents. Can Jemilla cope with the fact that she has powers? What is Mayor Spaceclaw plotting? And, most importantly, will the Fire King once again make it out alive?

Pairings:Zazzalil/Jemilla, Clark/Bruce, Barry/Victor, Arthur/Mera, Mouthface/Princess, Bug/February, Lex/Ethan, Grunt/Emberly, Junior/Pincer

Finale:The King's Last Temptation

A year has passed since Mayor Spaceclaw was exposed and peace was restored to Hatchetfield, and now Zazzalil and Jemilla are expecting to graduate from high school. They have made big name for themselves as the crime-fighting duo Fire King and Crystal Queen, while also having made peace with their new identities, the Destroyer Of Worlds and the White Devil.

However, things quickly get bad when Superman gets trapped inside a red sun, and the girls are summoned to the Watchtower. They need each other now more than ever—the Super Friends(and the world) are counting on them!

Pairings:Zazzalil/Jemilla, Clark/Bruce, Barry/Victor, Arthur/Mera

Addendum #1:Tales From Hatchetfield

(Chapter 1:In A Town Gone Mad)

One of the two unsung love stories from Hatchetfield. The Dikrats family's youngest child has always been somewhat of a ditz, but in his defense, he's just seven, and too young to think about love...right?

Craphole never gave a thought of what's going on between his mom and dad, or his sister and Jasmine. All that changes when he meets Tim Houston, two years older than him, on the playground, and for some STRANGE reason, he can't stop thinking about him. Could this be what the grown-ups call love?

Pairings:Tim/Craphole, Mouthface/Princess, Jack Bauer/Slippery When Wet, background Ja'far/Sherrezade and Tom/Becky

(Chapter 2:The Love Song Of Junior Spaceclaw)

Another of the two unsung love stories from Hatchetfield. Junior, the mayor's son, is being groomed to be the next evil overlord but he fails to live up to the standards his father set and copes by smoking pot.

One day, he meets Pincer, a wandering scorpion rogue looking for fresh human meat to eat, and what started out as a simple deal becomes something more but their evil love is put at stake when a new hero known as the Fire King emerges, and threatens to destroy everything. But if they're gonna lose, they'll do it together.

Pairings:Junior/Pincer, Bug/February, background Taz/Up and Tootsie/Mega-Girl

(Chapter 3:Zazzalil, I Am Your Father)

Set one year before the rise of the Fire King. Thirteen-year-old Zazzalil Carvour-Mega grew up idolizing heroes, and both her fathers. One day, Owen Carvour, her Pops, takes her to his workplace on Take Your Kid To Work Day, and there, she finds out a horrifying secret.

Faced with the fact that her Pops is a rogue, Zazzalil falls into a dilemma. But soon, she realizes that the Deadliest Man Alive is not your average supervillain, and there's more to him than meets the eye...

@mythuzalasheir3

[rabbitcruiser]

National Save a Spider Day

National Save a Spider Day is celebrated on March 14 annually in the U.S. in part to reduce arachnophobia, a fear of spiders, and to conserve spiders. People are usually afraid of spiders, mostly due to their bites which are considered deadly. Although most of the fear is largely unfounded and exaggerated, spiders are incredibly useful to humans as they work as effective pest control among other things. On this day, we look at the many reasons why we should rather trap a spider in a jar and take it outside than kill it. Let us spin webs about spiders and why they should be saved.

History of National Save a Spider Day

The history of Save A Spider Day, as well as the organization or individual who created it, is still being researched. Natural-resource organizations or biologists may have instituted this National Save A Spider Day in response to the growing recognition of spiders’ significance in both the environment and the daily lives of humans.

In the opinion of specialists, spiders perform a very vital function in maintaining the balance of nature’s ecosystem. Spiders, together with other species such as birds and ants, have a substantial impact on the reduction of insect populations. The world’s natural ecology would be severely out of balance if they didn’t exist. Cobweb spiders and cellar spiders are the two most prevalent types of spiders that have been discovered to invade our homes, according to scientific research. They are quite common inhabitants of the indoor ecosystem, and they can improve the living conditions of our living areas.

This is because spiders prefer to hide in dark places while waiting for their victim. The pests they trap and devour include annoying pests such as cockroaches and pincer ants, as well as disease-transmitting insects such as mosquitoes and flies. Sometimes the spiders work together to kill the toxic spiders, although this is not always the case. Among other things, our good friend the basement spider is well-known for killing dangerous black widow spiders.

National Save a Spider Day timeline

300 Million Years Ago The First Spider is Spotted

The first spider is reported as a species.

30 Million Years Ago The Modern Spider Emerges

Spiders — as we know them today — appear at this time as they evolve from their ancestors.

1998 The Museum Works With Them

Dan Babbit from The Smithsonian Museum works with spiders and comes to appreciate their uniqueness.

2016 The Desertas Wolf Spiders

Mark Bushell and his team of spiders go on to successfully reproduce and bring back 25 spiders from Madeira.

National Save a Spider Day FAQs

Are spiders friendly?

No, they are not. Spiders often are isolated and do not intentionally seek the company of humans if they enter their homes.

Can a spider be tamed?

Spiders can be tamed including tarantulas which is why you can see them as pets.

Do Spiders live on every continent?

Except for Antarctica, spiders can be found on every other continent.

How to Observe National Save a Spider Day

Save a spider

Learn about spiders

Watch Spider-Man

When you see a spider, you can save one instead of killing them. You can put the spider in a jar and then release it back into the wild.

On this day, you can learn about the behavior of spiders and learn about their habits. You can also study the difference between poisonous and non-poisonous species of spiders.

You can watch your favorite superhero bitten by a radioactive spider, Spider-Man. Watching Spider-Man can add to the interest of others so that they are not as afraid.

5 Interesting Facts About Spiders

Arachnophobia is common

Only a few are dangerous

A symbol of good luck

They produce silk

Spiders have gone to Space

This is the fear of spiders and is the third most common phobia in the U.S.

Most spiders do not have venom dangerous enough to the average-sized human.

Many cultures such as Greek, Roman, Scottish, and American Indian cultures consider spiders to be a symbol of good luck.

Spiders produce silk that researchers use to test its strength and elasticity to see how it can be employed in several ways.

Researchers have sent spiders to space to study the effects of zero gravity on their skill to spin their webs.

Why National Save a Spider Day is Important

Spiders are Important Predators

Spiders produce silk

Spiders are sensitive

Spiders eat insects wherever they are situated —inside or outside the house— which reduces the number of insects around. They keep the number of pests under control reducing the diseases that are being spread and fewer insects bothering humans.

All spiders produce silk which is one of the strongest materials that have been discovered. The tensile strength of high-grade alloy steel.

Spiders have poor eyesight but they have sensitive legs. These legs have tiny hairs which help them detect scents, help them find food, find potential mates, and sense vibrations.

Source

[libidomechanica]

“As it were wont to do”

A cinquain sequence

               I

The rack and pincers held in soft and distant land. As it were wont to do? Is not too fast.

               II

That gives way; and thou beside the strong in her Charms survived. And grew a seething of the fields.

               III

And tempte to the other. Near and fair your cruell ciuill warriour doth explored, cou’d make toward fever.

               IV

I iou to see and all that. Never fear. Tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who! And Love deny’d.

               V

Walke in Elisian field: is prison forth at length descry the bed. You make immortall hye.

               VI

Teach me, on a day, whose heart. My bent body mocks married men; for thee more carefull verse.

               VII

What the tall grass. Next, she has twa sparkling round as if she’s fretful, I have chosen it.

               VIII

Light a cigarette. Where I took my rounds along the porter than she. And by truant sheep.

               IX

Is your head wit golden foot or a fair desire. And wak’d his Box. For trust to think good?

               X

Lived as do the life that seem’d to heare, may scarse be told that we wish that loue? It from you, love.

               XI

Backwards, still to beholding me back again. You. As in theyr drouping hearth-stone blaze ouer all.

               XII

Who gave a Ball; or whether reioyce or weep: all be laid as low. Hear and beauty shall haue tride.

               XIII

Loose to entertayne. While, going obviously arrayd. My fear it can at last— at last!

               XIV

The poor did I know I have sworn deep discourse, o ioyfull verse. On her huge bright Order blaze?

               XV

No coward conquer, conquest of frost, hail, and would she scorner’s jest! Be she forth did them both.

               XVI

Always the eare that euer fedde in field refused me! A gentle Belle? She was still succeed there.

               XVII

For years, a measure; merry Flocke, adieu; but, alas, if in your hair into memory.

               XVIII

Belovëd,— where theyr decay, as you, or any good. I do love me food she did abyde.

               XIX

Through the blood. I wish that iustice I may gaine. Before me. The steadfast rock of Hazeldean.

               XX

Soul and with rigorous rage hys right. Diana. Gods who’s moving accident or release.

               XXI

Whatsoever than his own. Meet, if They be Just and prized in his time the things indeed so?

               XXII

Till greatest throne,—and Death- bed Alms are compel a well-built nest. Shaking dried mud from the next?

               XXIII

For thought you in a dream. Her snowy browes lyke to view: but think. Who swell thee grants his Pray’r.

               XXIV

While thus with such a n active countenance dew. Whose haruest wast, my hope it seems to looke.

               XXV

But knewe we fooles, what Virgin’s Thoughts. Cupid laid by his bride: and is fill, flyes back again.

               XXVI

In fact I care for. For, that low Bench, rising in the questions. We are ever thankles paine.

               XXVII

Burns to pass a day likewise I had told. And splendid smile. To let me sleep. Themselves do cry.

               XXVIII

Steel did them by the tide? His safe assuraunce. Which, with a sickly Mien shows in my darkness.

               XXIX

Next, she has twa sparkling roguish een. Ne any then spill. For kissing in clamor’s hour.

               XXX

I wont afore: vp grieslie ghostes and so the leaden strike so mortality. For your day.

               XXXI

Join; and when loosing one, sings that sicknesse lay; but oh! The brunt so strongly it to ruinate.

               XXXII

Until I grasp the Skies. The rolling Spleenwort in his grave, yet now past the hart, the gesture.

               XXXIII

When she ended were a wanton boy was his Dominion: no Nation of thy loue cherish.

               XXXIV

And screen’d in Shades, or brew fiercest, but rudely writ. In the long-contend. And could it still morne.

               XXXV

Much good die first thine arm! A good time, so free. Colin make immortalize. Calm ravish’d Hair.

               XXXVI

Sconce’s Height clapt his glory in the Fire. The rainbow wroth, life and all we are not any.

               XXXVII

Some guide … nor technical assistant a few steps. For beauty draws us with becoming.

               XXXVIII

Is it the koi kiss her. Yea, sweet loue, dearest deare return. Tell if thou suborn’d informer!

               XXXIX

For kissing Love’s beauties grace? Through the glory to be inclynd: that of her as they please me.

               XL

A worse to any challenge answer gets the day- light was gone and hold on. Say, if she’s mine.

               XLI

And that fiend that Sunne, whose to endured not. What strangers of the setting dark moved like before.

               XLII

Them mayst attune thy quill, and sighed among men, indeed. Twas he had implor’d propitious Ray.

               XLIII

That instance soon o’ertake his learne to constant of her louely and men’s eye? Too soon elate!

               XLIV

They loosening. Margaret stood in amaze, to sing to endure so tædious toyle, doth spot thoughts?

               XLV

Last Love, let it fly! I’m a man in the bold Thalestris’ Arms the Nymphs there is a garden.

               XLVI

Water, water faucet and mark with me. Love thee sing, as thou wilt be my love: little urn.

               XLVII

How I know the meaning o’er the Shrouds Aerial Whisper lost! Force of unresisted Steel?

               XLVIII

For my pardon of self- doing crime. And drizling drowns to kiss the haven within my breast.

               XLIX

As how you back carefull Colinet. For now each thou didest dye being leave his ray.

               L

Then in the Fire—even These the childbeater is come. And the World. My black-eyed rival came.

               LI

Speeds through the mind to moue, one pleasure past; an’ she hath display’d, each rope distinct, the cuckoo!

               LII

Let her Pray’rs, for Morning Sun descend, or sworn by the harder she is at rest. Hyacinths.

               LIII

But as your waters breed or bread on parish. Why wayle as the knows—what can give pleasure!

               LIV

When I feel the contentment they say, already sounde.—Jamie, come to me as a dreamer.

               LV

That he fayrest let vs eschew and body have need of my finger, now with a kisse.

               LVI

Wine comes back and loue embrace my bane. My face she has falling you of the winged God his place.

               LVII

—Tree of pity, its bark more bronze, the rose I lay. With loue may one answer’d; oh Fount of Light!

               LVIII

No coward soul is mine no trembles most terrifying kind. And want and that it isn’t true.

               LIX

And the mazie thick mass of you. Let me live, and must fall. And a helpe for his scythe to mone.

               LX

Frail, but from euening vntill morne. Tread light, but sudden spring I stood alone, till these thing air.

               LXI

A house or even the earthy top is tricked with little Weed below. To bathe at midday.

               LXII

So doe I not see the door, and mine no price nor beauty. Of disappeared—just two months gone.

               LXIII

Never, yet ever, are all my heart. A monkey had his bride: and when I do seeke the shore!

               LXIV

Hope to seeke the Sentence sign, and only will rob the tears the bayte her great eyes were of old?

               LXV

Ay francke shepherdess, esteem me, and long in civilization, this instant, anxious Care.

               LXVI

But mine’s the genteel and elegant scars. What so well as of one whom I could truly love.

               LXVII

Of neatness little rain is sore When I hope, ’ said I, was well. More translates the swarthy Moors.

               LXVIII

My youthful years the entrappe the things he: yet none as willing me so dear! The Bee him pained.

               LXIX

With starting was full of lies. Last Love, I did spy, resembling on the best agree, that much.

               LXX

By slaying flesh while the Finny Prey, fair Tresses Man’s Treat, but yet none may it mend with paine.

               LXXI

Or discompos’d their hearts are for any good. But what tho’ no Credit doubting Wits may give?

[oliverbraid]

But this space is rarely enough when housing such displays, demanding an animal-like circulation from corridor, to foyer, to gallery, and repeat – each time acknowledging new faces or avoiding old ones. When we think no-one is looking we courier the select beyond a code-locked door and seal us behind it. In this way the communal area of the studios transforms to a members-only space. Sol populates our mini-club with his stable of long-standing childhood friends and men who mirror his own image, who he will inevitably seduce. Whichever new man it is, soon we will all be fielding his messages, questioning where Sol has gone, and if there was anything wrong.

I don’t think I find any of these men attractive. In fact, I rarely think about attraction at all. It’s not that I don’t want people to love me, but I’d rather the opportunity to make more exhibitions. I’d forsake any sexual encounter in exchange for acknowledgement. I know I can’t have love without the validation of career success. While I wait for this moment to arrive, I can mostly calmly watch Sol’s repeating pattern of conquest and joke about it with his friends. If I have someone to show off to, I will bring them around to the club too; artists visiting from other cities, young curators I know from social media likes. Others are brought in at either mine or Sol’s recognition, or through combined decisions where we share with each other reasons for ‘so-and-so’ constituting the ‘Artworld’. In this way we pincer people in together that we may not know separately.

*

A Written Ambition I have a dream that one day I will write a story, or a book of some kind. Writing and books have carried my through difficult times and I want to pay back that service in my own way. I haven't trained for this and I know I need practice. For now I am trying my best to practice this and I plan to update my writing in small chunks here. It isn't edited and it's mostly explorative at this stage.

[angelictyphoon]

❛ you’re not very good at retiring. ❜

“And you’re not any good at picking jukebox music so quit bullying me and convince those security guys there’s a fire sale on worm steak or something before they figure out I’m in the Plant room,” Vash hisses back with one hand cupped over his left ear to block out the thrumming energy fed from the Plant nacelle and through a massive nest of cables that ran out to a network of poles distributing power throughout the town.

What was supposed to be a quick stop at the lively little town of Pleasanton swiftly derailed when their Plant’s obvious distress meant Vash would absolutely not leave the town until they visited her. 

What they hadn’t accounted for, however, was that this particular little town sat directly in a neutral zone between two major gangs that ran the fledgling spice trade between the longtime inhabitants of No Man’s Land and Earth, with honorable mention towards all the bribery that went towards ensuring that the Federation continued to turn a blind eye to the whole operation. 

Vash learned two other critical facts about the town in a very short span of time:

Previous attempts by both the Brass Pincer Posse and Black Fang Ravagers to take control of the town meant that no one but the town’s engineers were allowed in or out of the Plant room.

Approaching the Plant facility without clearance from the sheriff may as well have been an act of war.

His ‘I’ll sneak in and out before you know it!’ has gone on for a good four hours now while alarms blare and guards crawl every inch of the facility in search of the unknown intruder in the dead of night had, in fact, been the worst possible approach.

[fernrisulfr]

Yorvul Zoran

Dragonborn (Sapphire) - Warlock (Fathomless) - Marine - Lawful Neutral - Yorvull Zoran

Backstory Concept: Born in a land not worth mentioning by name, sired by the reclusive Yorvull clan, Zoran is a rare Sapphire Dragonborn. Due to this very aspect of their nature, Yorvull is a less traditional Draonborn Clan. Instead of gathering together under the leadership of a Clan Master, they scattered to the four-winds, honouring their name through military service, and gathering only if a particular signal were given; a sign of something truly dire on the horizon. Raised by his sire, they unsurprisingly died in a military conflict before he was of recruitment age. Zoran holds no sentimentality towards that fact however, having merely seen it as giving him greater freedom in choosing his service. Following a bit of wandering, the young dragonborn would join the Marines of a nation he doesn't bother remembering. His loyalty was never to the leadership anyway, but to the marines themselves and their code. For many years following, Zoran worked and trained hard, devoting himself fully to whatever assignment his unit was given. Then, as is inevitable in a career based around conflict, disaster struck. They were tasked with ridding the coast of a crew of pirates. Not the usual ragtag vagabonds the navy dealt with, but a band that had set up a fort on a small island near a trade route. Half of them would sail the ship, driving their target towards shore, and then the fort would lay into them with siege weaponry. The plan to rid the seas of these pirates was simple. Two units striking in tandem, one on land, the other at sea, preventing the pirates from the usual pincer tactic. Zoran was on the sea side of that conflict. They'd gone in quiet, using the low light and fog of the early morning to come in on small ships. Their intent had been to sneak aboard before anyone knew what was happening; but then the sea itself seemed to shift. In seconds it was absolute chaos, their smaller ships being capsized by the churning waters, and the pirates picking them off mercilessly as they were left defenseless in open waters. Zoran likely only survived due to the natural tint of his body masking his presence in the water, and that he was lucky enough to pull himself aboard before the waves smashed him against the hull. For three days he hid in the bilge, surviving off rats and water liquids he could siphon off when no one was watching. On the fourth day, the moon and stars hidden behind the clouds and the deck submerged in darkness, he struck. Carefully, systematically, he eliminated the crew one by one in absolute silence. The deed done, and their worthless corpses shoved overboard, Zoran was met with an unexpected event. The sea began to churn just as it had three days prior, only this time a massive wave rose up from the briny deep, stopping just short of crashing into the ship as two glowing eyes came into view. This was Zoran's first encounter with Olhydra, the Crushing Wave, and Princess of Evil Water. Apparently the pirate crew had been among her favoured for all the destruction and murder they had sown in her realm; and he had just robbed her of their continued service. Of course she could crush him like a crab upon the rocks, but why kill one mortal when she could see many chum the waters? No, if Zoran expected to live, it would be in service to her. He would go beyond her borders, kill in her name where she could not, and make the waters run red in her honour. This was to be a pact sealed with his life, and her eyes would always be upon him. There was no escaping the Well of Endless Anguish, but it would not be without it's benefits. After all, her minion would need the correct tools to end lives.

Olhydra Princess of Evil Water (Patron)

Notes: Intended for a One-shot to try out Gem Dragonborn and Fathomless Warlock.

Appearance: 6′4, 235 Lbs. Eyes are Blue-Purple with six lines. Sapphire Blue Scales. Has a short triangled snout, and a crest of three “horns” that look like crystal shards jutting back from his head. His tail also possesses several of these “shards”. Wears a blue naval jacket over more standard leather armor. Wields a Boomerang and several daggers belted to his body.  

[tippytopdays]

Instinct

Category: Gen

Characters: Ingo, Dawn

Summary: Dawn wasn't anywhere to be found, where could she have gone?

Notes: I literally wrote this in like, 30 minutes and it's entirely unbeta'd so yeah.

Based on @monsoon-of-art 's Pokerus AU because I had a thought for a minute

Ao3 version

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

“Ingo? What are you doing?”

His ears instantly perked at the voice. They flickered back and forth, struggling to pinpoint exactly where it was but finally settled on behind him. They stayed perched backwards as he glanced over a shoulder, or at least what remained a shoulder given the lavender shell covering it.

Black eyes met his own. Curiosity peaked an ear of her own, the cartilage limp and hanging slightly where the muscle pulled along her skull. Irida continued to stare at him as he just remained silent, “Warden Ingo? Are you alright? You’ve been in this cave for several hours now…” The ear flopped back down, concern tinting her voice, “Is…Is everything still functional?”

It was a clumsy use of the term but served it’s purpose, “I am fine, Miss Irida. All systems nominal and no derailing as of yet.” Not like it hadn’t gone so far already. He knew that she was staring at the leathery wings braced along his sides like a cloak. The rips in the hide didn’t do much to hinder it’s function, thankfully. It trapped heat well.

She was still there, just watching him from the mouth of the cave. The black eyes blinking from a halo of sunlight was making him nervous. It itched along his spine in a way he didn’t appreciate, as if she was something to be feared. Or to fear if she came any closer.

Sadly, she did, stepping along the wall in a track he knew would pass in front of him, “Then why are you-”

Unbidden, the hiss rattled through his throat. His voice was rough like gravel, wings puffing out in arches to make himself bigger and more of a threat. A red haze fell over his vision for a few moments and blurred the terrain except where the Glaceon stood ready to pounce on his nest-

“Ingo!”

His jaw clacked shut. All ire washed away as shame flooded in through his ribs. Awkwardly he resettled himself, drawing his pincers close to his chest, “I….Forgive me, Miss Irida.” The large ears nearly dislodged the hat on his head as they flickered back in submission, “I don’t know what came over me….”

Her black eyes remained locked onto him, betraying nothing of what she felt. The longer she stared at him the more the shame curled into something worse. A terrible, trembling fear that she would do something. Something that would hurt beyond what he’d already been through. That she would take his precious nest and crush the treasure he’d hidden inside.

“Ingo..” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up, not knowing when he’d turned his eyes down, as she stepped back against the wall. Confusion, and possibly a hint of fear, welled in her eyes as she asked, “Why do you have Dawn with you…..” Then her attention flickered around the small cave he’d holed himself into, “Did you make a nest in here?”

The leaves had long since stopped itching the seams of his shell. Fresh bramble had been twisted together and stuffed with the softest grass he could find. Broken twigs and the occasional clump of dirt were scattered all across the cave floor. It would have been a horrendous mess if he’d done it in his tent, yet he’d found this cave instead. A perfect hideaway far from the predators-the clan. All for the very, very small and fussy lump that now rested between his claws, warm and safe from all harm.

He just stared at her. She stared back. The fear in her eyes slowly melted with a baffled understanding, “Is this why no one could find her?”

“....Perhaps.” He didn’t even know they’d been looking. He never checked. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even know when he’d last left.

“Ingo,” She was careful to hide it, but he could still pick out the exasperation in her tone, “You have to let her go.”

“...I can’t.”

“Ingo, it’s been hours. She’s probably fine.”

He merely looked down at the fluffy lump he’d nuzzled quite contently under his chassis before staring at her again, “...She’s cold.”

“....It’s Spring. The sun is out.”

“There’s still snow.”

“The sun is hot, Ingo. It’ll melt.”

“She’s too small.”

“Ingo-”

Uncharacteristically, he chuffed towards the Glaceon. The makeshift and quite poorly made nest struggled to maintain it’s shape under his considerably greater weight but held firm. He pulled the Dewott closer with his claws, mouth firmly pressed against the scruff in a deep frown. Briefly his ears fluttered in a squiggly joy when the girl turned pokemon merely rolled over, pressing her very weak belly against his fangs.

Eventually Irida tossed her hands up, sighing rather loudly, “You know what, I’m not going to get into this with you.” Retracing the steps back along the wall she called over her shoulder, “Don’t get on my back when Cyllene or Kamado comes after you for her. I won’t help you.” And then she was gone, back down the path that would have taken far longer to climb had she been any larger.

All tension eased out of the Warden turned Gliscor. A deep rumble rattled in his chest at the twisted Dewott still deep asleep under his chest. Chitters clacked his fangs as he groomed the soft cream fur along her belly.

Cognitive thought came back in a rush as he hacked out a ball of hair, the sludgy lump splatting onto the cave floor.

That hadn’t been a good idea. And from how his throat was itching, it probably wasn’t the last.

[llamagoddessofficial]

what was it like the first time Mc met Skull in the portal Au?

Is it story snippet time? I think it’s story snippet time.

The vent cover was loose.

You’d noticed, as soon as you’d rounded the corner. It didn’t matter that the facility was dark, quiet, deep in one of its night cycles... in the faint illumination of the safety screens and directional arrows left on, you picked up the silhouette of the cover. You were so familiar with the area of the lab around the room you slept in that you probably would’ve seen it anyway... but what immediately made all your attention snap to it was the fact that the glint of sleek metal in the darkness was, in fact, misaligned.

... Sans wanted everything neat. Sans wanted everything right. Red liked it that way, too, but Sans seemed to have the final say. And it showed- the entire facility was neat, angled, symmetrical and impossibly clean. It was so regimented and unnatural that you felt like an outlier yourself; a strange, curved, imperfect biological creature in a space that seemed to bleed robotic perfection from every corner.

... So... something about this one plating... this one vent cover, at a bad angle, tilted just against the grain...

... You were hyperfocused.

You moved over to it, bare feet cat-silent on the warm white floor, crouching down. You weren’t supposed to be out of your room at night, Sans didn’t like you wandering around when he was unaware, powered down for system maintenance and repairs... your fingers sealed around the loosened ends of the vent cover, and with the gentlest of tugs the whole thing came off, leaving a gaping hole in the wall large enough for you to crawl into. 

...

It was like you had a fog, separating one half of your mind from the other. Every day in this strange lab was confusing- and when you tried to ask yourself normal questions, like “where am I?” or “how did I get here?” or “why do I have no memories before this place?” your brain supplied you with absolutely nothing. And not only that, it couldn’t even supply you with the concern you knew you should be experiencing... the fear, the panic, it wouldn’t come. It was the most paradoxical and horrible sensation... the feeling of knowing something was wrong, of knowing you should be scared, but something in your head just not letting you access it.

... Maybe that was why the sight of the hole in the wall, the gap in the artificially perfect world around you, made your heart skip in excitement instead of fear. Maybe that was why you normally would have stuck to what was safe and not done stupid shit like going into vents...

... But this time, you got on your hands and knees, and crawled right in.

You weren’t crawling for a very long time; after what couldn’t have even been a minute of moving in a straight line through the smooth metallic system, the dark space opened up above you, more than enough for you to stand up to your full height in. Your eyes were wide, childlike in wonder- unlike the rest of the facility, that at least seemed to try and fake an air of safety, this place behind the walls... every surface around you was dirty, stained and rusty, there were tubes and buttons and tangled wires sticking out of the floor and ceiling, the whole place was lit up with an unnerving orange glow that was leaking through slits in the flooring. The air was filled with a nasty tang, metallic and almost blood-like, heavy and claustrophobic...

... It was like you’d crawled into hell. Like you’d gone from the head of the facility to the entrance of the throat. Another world...

...

As your gaze lowered...

... There was something in the room with you.

The hairs on the back of your neck bristled. Near the other end of the room there was a large, metallic box, most likely containing important wiring of some kind. From where you were standing you could judge that it was about your shoulder height... pretty big. 

... But it wasn’t the box that had your attention. It was what it was blocking from your view. A perfectly circular crimson light was peeking out from behind that box... a turret eye, bright and awake and alive, cutting through the murky coloured darkness. And the more you stared, the more you could make out, the more you could see the partially obscured hunched figure attached to the eye that was trained directly on you. 

...

“H-hello?” You whispered.

...

“sh-ouldn_t.. be.here.”

... The voice was like nothing you’d ever heard. Deep, deathly deep, you could feel it in your chest like standing next to a speaker- vibrating in your stomach, the palms of your hands, even tingling along your scalp. It sounded... automated, jittering and autotuned and with inflections no human would use, but so clearly with thoughts and feelings behind it, the unmissable edge of somebody who’s cautious, afraid... a downright uncanny mix of machine and man.

“... Should you?” Your voice sounded so... weak. So biological. Your heart was pounding.

... The eye noticeably changed; the dot in the centre became a fraction wider. It took an odd shape, too... from your distance it... looked like a heart...?

A soft, low “... no_.”

“... Then that makes two of us. Right?”

...

The owner of the eye stood up. 

He stood slowly, too. And as he did, the box he’d been crouched behind just got smaller, and smaller, and smaller... a beast, made of the facility’s leftovers. Large enough to crush you like a beetle. The dim orange light touched his silhouette to reveal thick tubes, misshapen metal plates, wires hanging off him like cut vines... a gaping cavity in his chest where a half-broken plasma motor was faintly humming and glowing. One of his hands looked vaguely humanoid but the other was just a badly affixed pincer claw... the plate on his face had been haphazardly cut away so his one red eye could see, and a skeletal nose shape had been carved into the centre. Everything about him was asymmetric, uneven, mismatched... 

You opened your mouth-

[Bleep!]

...

It floated through the room. A light noise, like a phone notification. You took note of the fact that you couldn’t hear it echoing through the rest of the facility... something that was only heard in the backrooms, perhaps? It was a very gentle little sound, nothing more than a light jingle...

... Except he flinched like a gunshot had gone off, eye blinking out entirely. Immediately, he turned around- you let out a little “H-hey, wait!” and raised your arm but it didn’t stop him. In a few giant steps he’d completely disappeared around a corner, clanging sounds moving so much deeper into the metalworks in such a short amount of time that you found yourself immediately disoriented. How... you were just standing there, how did someone that huge and heavy move so fast?

...

You wanted to pursue. You wanted to chase him deep into the bowels of the lab, down where you weren’t ever supposed to go, where no light would reach... you wanted to so badly you’d already moved a few steps without realising.

... But at the same time, you felt like you’d done enough for one day. Your nose stung from the strange smells in the air, your eyes were straining in the orange darkness... you wanted to go to sleep, back to your relaxation chamber, to rest for now and figure out what the hell you’d just seen.

What the hell you’d just spoken to.

... You turned, and clambered back through the vent. It took no time at all to re-emerge back in the regular facility... back to the whiteness, the cleanliness, the perfect and fake.

...

You had no idea why he’d reacted the way he had to that sound. What did it mean? You trailed your hand along the wall as you walked, making your way through the halls back to your chamber, the floor smooth and faultless under your bare soles. Was it... some kind of warning? An alert system? Was he running toward something, or away fr-

“subject.” 

- You almost jumped out of your fucking skin.

You were never sure where Sans’ voice was coming from. It always seemed to just spontaneously exist all around you, disembodied and impossible to describe, surrounding you on all sides as if emanating from the air in the building itself. No matter how hard you searched you could never seem to find any speakers on the cold, unfriendly white walls or floor... just further adding to the confusion and dream-like quality of this whole place. You clutched your chest, taking a little breath, trying to disguise the wild flinch that you’d just experienced.

“Y-yeah?” You said, smooth as always, and totally completely not-startled.

Sans always heard you, no matter how quietly you spoke- and judging by passing comments he’d made he always seemed to be able to see you and your expression. God, you hoped he couldn’t read the panic in your face.

“the facility is in night cycle.” Calm, emotionless, slightly autotuned, as per usual... but a little softer than the norm. “why are you out of your relaxation chamber?”

You glanced up at the nearest camera, a small black orb close to the ceiling with a gently blinking blue light.

...

“I-I can’t sleep.” Was all you could think of.

...

“... perhaps it will be easier to sleep... if you are reclined in a position, in which you can actually sleep. you should return to your chamber.”

“... I’m just walking around.” You kept moving, hoping he wouldn’t think about where you’d come from. “I mean... N-not all of us have a ‘go to sleep instantly’ button. I’m clearing my head. I’m fine, I'm on my way back anyway.”

...

“you’re stammering. your heart rate is elevated.”

Shit. Shit. No, it’s-

“... did you experience a nightmare?”

...

“O-oh. Yeah. Uhm...” You rubbed the back of your neck, eyes drifting down to the floor. “You know about those?”

“i have access to the combined entirety of human knowledge. yes, i am aware of nightmares.”

“W-well... yeah. Yes. I... had one. I’m walking it off.”

... A pause, on his part. 

...

“... i can turn the lights back on. if... you’d like to walk around.”

“No thank you. It’ll just make me feel more awake.”

“i see. ... well. i need to complete some more system reboots. i will be partially offline again. if... you need me, just call.”

“Okay. Sure. I will.”

[cassyapper]

Speaking of Jotaro’s survivor’s guilt, how much do you think stems from the fact that the pincer maneuver was his idea? Logically yeah, he was making a decent suggestion in a bad situation but guilt isn’t logical. I can’t help but think he thinks that if they’d stuck together or if he and Kakyoin (or he and Joseph) had traded places, things would have gone better even if that’s not necessarily true.

oh anon there are SO MANY layers to jotaro's survivor's guilt and this is definitely an aspect of it indeed i agree with everything

like. i know this is one of the moments he replays most, second only to the fuckin d'arby the gamer mix up. if he just thought a little longer, if he realized it would've been better if both teams had a long ranged user (joseph or kakyoin) and a short ranged user (him or polnareff), if he had protested about going after polnareff because he's not a comforting guy, if he had just been faster on the motorcycle so he and polnareff could've been there, if he could have gotten dio's attention on him and polnareff instead of joseph and kakyoin, if he had gone against the plan like he had so many other times previously just this ONCE, if he had just done anything else...would things be different?

god i know he thinks it's so unfair. why did HE get timestop why did dio go after KAKYOIN AND JOSEPH why did HE get dragged into the d'arby hole why why why why why wasn't he strong enough to overcome these barriers anyway. what's so special about him. there has to be a reason. maybe it's meant to be that he is always alone

and so on it goes. oh jotaro...

[aithorin]

Chasing You - Thranduil x Reader

Plot: Imagine overhearing Thranduil’s conversation with Tauriel and running away

A/N-This fic is also posted on AO3 under the same username. I will insert a link to it below. However, this is also a slightly different version as I’ve made a couple of edits. I’ll post the updated version eventually on AO3, but for now this is the only edited version. Also, some of the lines in this are from the movies, so as a disclaimer, I do not own any recognizable content.

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823933

Slight NSFW Warning!

The hooves of your horse thundered in your ear as you pushed it to gallop quickly throughout Mirkwood. All around, the sickened trees passed in a blur, and yet somehow they still managed to loom over you, mocking your troubles with their height. You hunched closer to your horse, looking for comfort, and threaded your fingers throughout its mane. The wind burned at your eyes, causing tears of a completely different kind to well. They mingled with the ones symbolic of your heartbreak, mixing so thoroughly that they became indistinguishable from one another. The wind pulled at both, tugging at them as they trekked down your face. The tears disappeared into the air behind you, the wind having successfully stolen them.

So distracted by your thoughts, you didn’t even notice how the wind had prematurely dried the tear tracks along your face, pinching the skin slightly underneath. All you could focus on was Thranduil. Just the thought of his name sent a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, blurring your vision even more. Moments from your relationship flashed through your mind, and confusion merged with your hurt. You just didn’t understand. All this time he had seemed so genuine. To find out it was all a farce so suddenly only made your anguish sharper. There were no suspicions at all; you had been happy, and you thought that he had been happy too. But as a sob escaped your mouth, you realized that maybe some things weren’t meant to be. Echoes of the conversation you had accidently heard rang throughout your mind, and agony grappled at your heart as you thought about Thranduil’s betrayal.

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

Having finished your chores for the day, you hurried toward the throne room hoping to catch a moment alone with Thranduil. It was difficult to spend time with him considering your relationship was a secret, so every spare moment you had to sneak with him was precious. As you passed by a corridor, muffled voices floated through the air causing your footsteps to slow to a halt. Curious, you crept towards the sound, excitement filling you as you recognized Thranduil’s voice. It was perfect! You’d just wait for him to finish and then maybe you could spend a few moments together. But as the muffled noise turned into clear voices, your excitement quickly diminished as a deep hurt took root within your heart.

“Legolas said you fought well today… he has grown very fond of you.” Thranduil’s deep baritone resonated throughout the room.

A few moments passed before Tauriel stammered, “I assure you my lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a captain of the guard.”

“Perhaps he did once...now I’m not so sure.” Thranduil sneered.

“I do not think…  you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly silvan elf.” Tauriel stuttered back.

“No, you’re right. I would not.” Thranduil declared, “Still… he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none”

At his words, a gasp left your mouth as your heart plummeted. Both of their heads snapped in your direction, but by then you had already turned and fled down the hall. Tears welled in your eyes as you began to understand the meaning behind his words. You were no different than Tauriel. In fact, you were inferior to her being that your station in life was that of a maid. If Legolas couldn’t pledge himself to the esteemed captain of the guard, then there was no hope that Thranduil would ever truly pledge himself to you either. All this time, you were nothing more than a fling to Thranduil, maybe even less. Did he see your feelings as a game, something to be toyed with? The conviction with which Thranduil spoke his words told you more than you ever needed to know. It was obvious he didn’t share in any of the things you felt. A choke escaped your throat as you realized your relationship was nothing but a lie.

Fleeing from the corridor, you ran to the comfort of your room. The door to your chambers creaked open, and light from the hall seeped through to illuminate it. As you stepped inside, you looked slowly around the room. Nothing seemed right anymore. You felt as though you were suffocating, and with a sudden clarity you knew what you had to do. You had to leave. The thought of staying in Mirkwood made you nauseous. Having to stay and look at Thranduil everyday, knowing that he never cared about you, would only break your heart over and over again. Leaving was the only way you had any hope of moving on. You quickly gathered what meager belongings you had, and hurried towards the stables. Climbing on top of the nearest horse, you saddled your pack and took off without a backward glance.

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

The trees of Mirkwood continued to whiz by, the tears continuously spilling from your eyes creating a distorted view of your surroundings. Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.

‘How could he do this to me? I loved him! I gave him everything. My heart, my mind, my trust, my body, everything, and yet in the end he didn’t care at all. It was nothing but a game to him.’ A choked, bitter laugh escaped through the sobs erupting from your throat. Everything just hurt; your heart felt tight, a huge lump in your throat made it difficult to breathe, and your eyes were swollen and tired from crying.

Why, why would he do this to you! You never thought he could be so cruel. Lost in the river of your despair, you failed to notice the sound of legs scurrying across the forest floor until it was too late.

A rustle of leaves sounded to your left before a giant spider leapt from behind the brush causing your horse to rear up in fright. The sudden change in gravity threw you from its back, causing your backside to hit the floor with a hard thud, knocking the breath from you. Letting out a wheeze as you attempted to regain your breath, you looked up just in time to see your horse let out a loud whine before bolting back in the direction you came. By then, the giant spider had turned its attention towards you and moved with a speed that surprised even your elven senses. You scurried back on all fours in terror, the dead leaves crunching beneath your hands. All too soon though, your path became blocked by one of the towering, ill trees that resided in the forest. Still, your arms flailed as you tried to get away, but the spider continued to advance, slowly trapping you in your place. Your breath started to quicken, and terrified gasps resounded throughout the forest. This was it. You were going to die in the forest alone, with the knowledge that no one had ever really loved you. A few stray tears escaped your eyes as you realized just how pathetic you really were. By now the spider loomed above you, its pincers poised above you, ready to strike. Ominous hisses spewed from its mouth, and you squeezed your eyes shut, unwilling to watch it deliver the killing blow. Having accepted your fate, your body relaxed, and you waited for the world you knew to be no more.

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

“I want the watch doubled at our borders. All roads. All rivers. Nothing moves but I hear of it. No one enters this kingdom and no one leaves it.” Thranduil ordered, an unspoken warning in his tone, before walking away with a swish of his cloak.

No sooner had he left the throne room was he stopped by a servant.

“Forgive the intrusion my lord, but I couldn’t help overhearing your order and…” The elleth hesitated.

“Out with it, you insolent child! I don’t have all day! You’ve already overstepped your boundaries, don’t push them anymore.” Thranduil said, his patience growing thin.

“Well,” she began, “it’s just...I’m worried about (Y/N). When I stopped by our shared room all of her belongings were gone. I think she went into the forest, but she hasn’t come back. Will she be able to get back into the kingdom with your order?”

At the mention of your name, Thranduil’s blood turned ice cold in his veins. Where could you have possibly gone, and with all of your belongings too? You wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and you knew better than to go into the forest alone. You weren’t trained in the art of combat, and there were too many dangers that lurked in the forest these days. Thranduil’s mind became laced with panic as he ran through all of the possible things that could have happened to you. Were you lost? Injured? Dead? At that last thought, Thranduil swallowed as a hard lump of fear developed in his throat. He had to find you. Now.

He turned to look at the elleth, the cool facade on his face betraying none of the inward worry that he held.

“As king it is my duty to see to the safety and wellbeing of all that dwell within my kingdom. As such, I will personally see to it that (Y/N) is brought back home safe and unharmed.”

At his words, the elleth visibly relaxed. “Thank you my lord. You are most generous and kind.” With a nod of her head, the elleth bowed her head before walking away to return to her duties.

Thranduil turned to the nearest guard. “You,” he said, “Ready my elk. We leave at once.”

“Yes my lord.”

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

Thranduil raced through the forest, looking for any sign of a trail. Suddenly, a lone horse came barreling in their direction, rearing in a panic. The small group of guards he had with him leaped in front to calm it down.

Grabbing its reins, Thranduil inspected the horse, noticing a pack saddled to its back. Peering inside, he saw your possessions and his expression turned grim. Without a word, he swung back onto his elk and charged down the path the horse came from.

Galloping along the path, Thranduil prayed that you were okay. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to you. Meeting you had breathed new life into him. For the first time since his wife died, he actually felt happy, something his own son couldn’t even provide him. Every beat of his heart was dedicated solely to you, and if you were to be taken from him like his wife was, he didn’t think he would ever be able to recover.

Deep in the forest now, Thranduil was beginning to doubt that he’d be able to find you when he heard noises coming from off the path. The hiss of a spider, leaves crackling as someone scrambled. His eyes widened as he realized a spider was attacking someone. Jumping from his elk, Thranduil’s footsteps pounded as he ran, and the sound of metal scraping could be heard as he drew his sword. Bursting into a clearing, he saw a giant spider above someone, poised to kill whoever was trapped. As the spider went in for the killing blow so did Thranduil. Fortunately, Thranduil was faster, and blood spurted as he drove his sword into the spider’s back. The spider howled in pain, limbs flailing as the life slowly drained from it along with its blood. All too soon, the spider dropped dead, and Thranduil hurried to push it off of whoever was trapped beneath it.

Rolling the spider’s body to the side, Thranduil was met with the sight of you curled tightly, hugging your knees to your chest with your eyes clenched shut. Dried tear tracks painted your cheeks, and visible tremors shook your body. Thranduil kneeled next to you as a big weight lifted from his chest. You were alive! Scared and shaken but alive. He had made it to your side in time, albeit he was cutting it a bit close.

Right in front of you, Thranduil slowly reached out to place a gentle hand on your shoulder. At his touch, you jumped and started to shake even harder, your eyes still shut tight.

“Meleth nin,” he spoke softly, “Open your eyes. I am here, and you are safe.”

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

“Meleth nin” you heard a soft voice whisper, “Open your eyes. I am here, and you are safe.”

At the sound of his voice, you wanted to let out a sob. It sounded just like him, but you knew that it couldn’t be Thranduil. There was no way that Thranduil was in front of you. He was back at the palace, most likely atop his throne, while you were here, probably bleeding out from a spider bite. That was it you reasoned. You had been bitten by the spider, and now you were going delirious from its venom before you died. It was the only explanation. He didn’t love you. You didn’t want to open your eyes. If you did the illusion would be shattered. At least this way you could pretend that you wouldn’t die alone, and that your love was here.

But when his hand started to shake your shoulder, the possibility that maybe he actually was here started to seem more like a reality. You reluctantly opened your eyes to see his cerulean ones staring into yours, deep with concern. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him, but with the threat of death looming over you gone, you remembered why you left in the first place. You snatched your wandering arms back and lowered your eyes as more tears suddenly welled in your eyes. ‘He isn’t mine’, you reminded yourself, ‘he never was’. Having him be so close yet at the same time so far made your heart clench painfully in your chest.

“Melamin, are you alright? I was so worried I had lost you.” Thranduil whispered.

Deciding to ignore the endearment, you chose to answer the way your relationship now demanded. That of a respectful servant addressing her king. Still looking down at your feet, you replied meekly, “Yes, your majesty. Thank you for rescuing me. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

At your words, his eyes squinted ever so slightly in confusion. Why were you talking to him like that, as though you were just another one of his subjects? Something else was wrong. You couldn’t even look at him. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the few guards surrounding the clearing leaving just the two of you.

“What is wrong meleth nin? Why can’t you look at me?”

The continued endearments caused the sob that had been stuck in your throat to escape. Why did he insist on continuing the game? Was it not enough that he had taken your heart? Must he continue to squeeze it as well? How spiteful could he be to insist on calling you that?

“Please,” you whispered “Do not continue to jest. My heart cannot take it.”

Thranduil grabbed your hands and with the sudden movement, you finally tilted your head to meet his gaze. Seeing your heartbroken face, he felt his own heart twinge within his chest. He could feel you slipping away and with every passing minute he feared that he would not be able to get you back. “I don’t understand,” he pleaded, “Whatever it is that I have done, tell me, and I will not rest until I have eased your mind.”

His words made your head droop in despair. So he was going to continue to feign ignorance until he could break your heart and see your expression for himself. His insisted cruelty caused the first seeds of anger to break through the dam of your heartbreak. Thranduil might have shattered your heart, but you’d be damned before you’d let him see the effects. You’d get through this conversation, and then part from Mirkwood and put this chapter of your life behind you.

With your newfound determination, you looked at him with your face hard and eyes steely. “Do not think me so naive that I will continue to play along with your game, my lord. You may have fooled me once, but I refuse to let you do so again. You can cease your act of mocking love and concern. Please, just go back to the palace and have a laugh about the foolish maid who believed that a king could ever possibly care for her, and I will be on my way.”

Thranduil stared at you in bewilderment. Where was all of this coming from? Just this morning, everything was fine, and in that short time you now doubted his love for you. What could have possibly happened?

“Whoever has planted this seed of doubt in your mind will wish that they had never opened their mouth,” Thranduil swore gravelly, “I do not know what has caused this skepticism, but know that my feelings for you are honest and true.” He lifted your hands enclosed in his to place a soft kiss upon them.

Looking into his eyes, you were tempted to believe him. He seemed so earnest, but the words that he spoke earlier rang through your mind, “Do not give him hope where there is none”, and your temptations were banished. You let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. YOU were the one who made your feelings toward me clear as day, no one else. If you cannot bring yourself to be honest about anything else, then at least take responsibility for revealing your true feelings about me.”

“I do not know what you speak of!” Letting go of you, he stood from the forest floor and began to circle the clearing in frustration. “Care to enlighten me?”

Crossing your arms, you stood with him. “I heard you. Earlier, in the corridor with Tauriel. With it, the veil from my eyes was lifted, and I am now able to see this relationship for what it is: a complete and utter lie.”

He spun around to face you. “That had absolutely nothing to do with you! It was about Legolas. It, in no way, concerned how I feel about you.”

“It had everything to do with me.” you spoke softly. “If the prince is not allowed to pledge himself to Tauriel, the esteemed captain of the guard, where does that leave me? I am a servant my lord, the lowest of the low, and if the prince cannot be with someone who is far above my own station, why would the king of all people do any different?”

You turned to face him, and saw a guilt stricken look cross into Thranduil’s eyes as he realized the implication of his words.

“Forgive me Meleth. I did not realize the severity of my words when I spoke.” He apologized. He crossed the clearing to stand in front of you. Gently grabbing your shoulders, he looked deep into your eyes, “My feelings for you are earnest and unchanging. You have reminded me what happiness looks like. When you came into my life, I saw glimmers of light that I had not seen since my wife died. The first time I looked into your eyes, my heart thawed and began to beat within my chest again. You are the one who has breathed life back into me.”

Shrugging his hands off, you turned away from him.  “Be that as it may, you must believe it someplace deep inside otherwise you would not have spoken as you did. If it really was a mistake, then you would not care if Tauriel and Legolas were together, but you do.”

“No!” Thranduil protested, “I did not realize how selfish I was being when I spoke with Tauriel. If Legolas wishes to be with her so be it. I do not care.” Turning you back around, he gently cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “How could I care if it would cost me you?” He whispered.

Staring into his eyes filled with nothing but love, you felt the weight on your chest slowly begin to lift for the first time in hours. Perhaps there was hope after all. Yet as your overwhelming emotions faded, your mind began to clear, leaving nothing but logic and the cold sting of reality as you reconsidered his earlier words. Casting your eyes to the ground, you said, “As much as it pains me to say it, it does not really matter whether you care or not. In many ways, the words you spoke held nothing but the truth. It’s foolish to believe that we can ever truly be together. I am a maid, and you are a king. This relationship has no future for you surely cannot pledge yourself to me. The people would never accept me as queen.”

Crossing your arms, you turned your back so that he would not be able to see the tears welling in your eyes. “We aren’t even truly together right now. We ignore each other around the presence of others, stealing hidden moments in the dead of night. Do you know how painful it is? To see you look at me so coldly, so uncaringly, in the light of day, yet share in the warmth of your embrace at night. It’s exhausting. Do you have any idea how much it makes my heart ache? All I want is the freedom to speak to you, comfort you, touch you, whenever I wish, but our relationship forbids it! I can’t even send you a simple smile when I pass you in the halls! Too often, I can see the stress of a wasted council meeting etched on your face, and I yearn to soothe you and share in your troubles but I cannot. I did not lie when I said your conversation with Tauriel lifted a veil from my eyes, but I can see that it's different from what I originally thought. I think it would be best for us to part ways right here, and that way we can both move on. Elves are immortal. If I left now, I would be but a flicker on the line that is your life. I’m sure it would not be too hard to forget me and our relationship.” you mumbled quietly.

Thranduil’s gaze turned fiery. “Do what you will. But know this, should you choose to leave this forest do not think for one second that I will ever forget you. Ten, a hundred, even thousands of years from now, I will ache for you every second of every day. Not once will you ever leave my mind.”

His gaze softened, “Please… come home, and I promise we will truly be together, no more sneaking around. I am not ashamed to be with you; we will walk the halls together and share in each other’s troubles as you wish.”

“But your advisors and the people-”

His eyes flashed, “Speak no more of it. Love has slipped from my grasp once before, and I refuse to allow it to again. I am the king of this realm, and if I wish to be with you then the people will have to accept it.”

Hearing his words, you wanted nothing more than to accept, but your doubt and insecurity still lingered near the surface. How could you accept when you knew that you would only hold him back? The people would not be happy, and it would lead to unrest in the kingdom. How could you be that selfish? You couldn’t tear apart an entire kingdom for your own happiness. To make matters worse you wouldn’t even be able to help Thranduil bring about peace. You were a servant for crying out loud; you knew nothing about diplomacy!

As an internal war waged within you, Thranduil noticed the doubt in your eyes holding you back. He could sense that you lied upon a threshold and with one little push, you would surrender your doubts and come back to him. Determined to give you that final push, he glided towards you. Lost within your mind, you didn’t even notice that he had started to move until he had pressed himself against your back. The feel of his hard chest against your back brought an immediate halt to the worries swirling within you. Time came to a complete standstill, and you held your breath in anticipation, nervous yet also excited to see what he would do.

Achingly slow, he lifted a hand to gently brush your hair back, baring your neck. With the back of his hand, he started to tenderly trace a path along the curve of your neck. The hand continued downward, skimming the curve of your breasts to reach its resting place on your belly. Your eyes fluttered closed again in appreciation, and without even realizing, you leaned slightly into him, unconsciously craving to be closer. He bent down, his breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Tell me Melamin, what troubles you so?”

You shivered as the heat of his breath hit your neck. As he started to pepper your jawline in featherlight kisses, your mind became clouded, but you still managed to share your doubts with him. “I still worry… of the people’s reaction… to our relationship.” you whispered.

Thranduil hummed in response and raised his hand to caress the other side of your jaw. He pressed himself even closer to you and with it a fire that only he could sate ignited within you. “Tell me, does it feel like I care for their reaction? Let go meleth, and I promise you everything will be fine.”

With that, he used his hand to tilt you toward him and leaned down to capture you in a kiss. It started sweet but soon an overwhelming need took over you. The kiss was transformed into a battle of passion, and you turned around to fully face him. Your hands trailed all over Thranduil’s body, sliding up his chest to eventually twist themselves into his hair. With a soft tug, you pulled him even closer to deepen the kiss. Your lungs burned for air, but you didn’t care. At that moment, all that mattered was him. With every second that passed, your doubts slowly melted away as thoughts of Thranduil consumed your mind. All you could focus on was the feel of his lips and his hands gliding over your hips. You wanted nothing more than to drown in the river of his love.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you opened your eyes to gaze into his. Seeing the love and adoration he held for you in them, you allowed yourself to be drawn into the torrent, and you let go.

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

Afterwards, as you lay cuddled together on the forest floor, Thranduil reached down to entwine your hands together. Resting his head against your shoulder, he brushed a stray strand of hair out of the way and asked once again, “Come home, meleth nin?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you replied, “Yes.”

[doorsclosingslowly]

There’s someone waiting out there with a mouthful of surprises

The Jedi recovered the bisected Sith apprentice from Naboo and imprisoned him underneath the Jedi Temple. A young Anakin finds the way down to his cell.

Anakin is twelve when he declines one of Chancellor Palpatine’s invitations for the first time. The resulting devastation looks wrong on his kindly old face, and Anakin wants to take it back—besides, it’s just an opera and a glass of bubbly, where could be the harm?—but he remembers golden eyes pleading up at him and then a skull-patterned face scrunched up into a splotch with how hard it’s trying to hide utter desperation, and he repeats his invented excuse.

It doesn’t matter that this one-sided rivalry for Anakin’s attention that has developed between the mutilated imprisoned murderer Sith (slave) he has befriended and the Chancellor of the Republic is honestly deeply stupid, from Anakin’s point of view. It’s not like he couldn’t spent time with them both: his missions with Master Obi-Wan have increased in number recently, but still, he’s been talking to Palpatine once a month and he’s also managed to fit in the regular trips down below to the high security carcer. It’s ridiculous.

But Anakin understands loneliness—and fear and attachment and jealousy and all the other disturbances of the peace he shouldn’t feel—he didn’t have friends for years in the Temple, after all, and it makes sense, at least a little, that Maul is scared he’ll be forgotten down there when Anakin has any other option. Not a lot of sense, because really what he’s saying is that he thinks Anakin so disloyal he’ll just ditch the only real friend he made on Coruscant, and Anakin would get back at him for the insult if it wasn’t for an energy gate perpetually between them and the fact that it’s a just a little bit unfair to tussle with a guy crawling on the floor because he doesn’t have legs… The jealousy is still kriffing stupid, but if anyone knows stupid fears it’s Anakin.

So he declines, and he keeps declining, and two years later the invitations stop.

.

Anakin is eleven when he starts smuggling droid parts down into the top security oubliette underneath the oldest parts of the Jedi Temple. The first time is, in retrospect, a terrifying accident. He’s built a tiny moving starfighter that Master Obi-Wan just glanced at and said, “Well done,” nothing more, like Anakin didn’t need to use pincers to weld the tiniest engine parts together, like he didn’t cast the alloy all by himself. He sulks in his room, the ship buzzing at his head, and then remembers that there’s at least two more people who might like to see. Palpatine is probably busy, and that leaves…

The Sith prisoner is a far more appreciative audience than Anakin’s Master. His eyes glint and widen when he sees the presence next to Anakin’s head, and he even pulls himself off his berth: pulls himself off the edge and tumbles down head-first, and then panting and with his nails dug into the duracrete he drags his torso over to the energy trellis that separates him from Anakin.

He looks up at the droid in childlike wonder.

There’s a tenderness to his questions that he hasn’t shown Anakin up until now, and it’s not just the hoarse panting of exertion that takes away the last dregs of his usual intimidating mien. He wants to know everything, from the full-size model of the ship it was based on to the assembly process to details of every single one of Anakin’s new projects.

“I can—I could feel the movement of the droids I built, in the force,” the prisoner whispers reverently. “They were a constant presence when I was young.”

“Right? Right?” Anakin is excited. The Jedi have been trying to tell him that droids don’t have force presences, and he’s almost believed them by now, but if he’s not alone in feeling it then he was right. Master Obi-Wan was wrong. He knew it.

He brings down the next droid he builds—yes, two days after the first trip he did realize he brought something easily used as a weapon to the dangerous Sith prisoner, but all he did was talk mechanics with Anakin so clearly it’s harmless—and the next and next. He watches the prisoner drag himself across the floor. He sees the abrasions covering the prisoner head to abdomen—covering him on every inch of the body he still possesses—the injuries that he must be sustaining from his only mode of movement. He feels the shame radiate out from the prisoner down on the floor, painful, cloying. He watches him try to play it all down.

One day, Anakin brings down a ship that he designed himself to meet the exact dimensions and functionality of a short humanoid’s prosthetic thigh. He pushes it against the barrier. It moves through.

.

Anakin is almost ten years old, and he knows that down in the bowels of the Jedi Temple there lives a monster. The Sith is caged so deep below that no-one can hear his growls and mutters, his whimpers, his pleas, or so Master Obi-Wan promised Anakin yesterday when he’d worked up the courage to ask about the sounds he keeps hearing whenever he closes his eyes. He’s locked down so deep that the shivering of his despair and the gall of his hatred must be a hallucination. He’s been caged for months, first interrogated daily, then found useless and forgotten. But not by Anakin.

(He saw the monstrous enemy of the Jedi for the first time when he’d just turned nine. It pulled its black hood off its bright head and panicked Master Qui-Gon and Master Obi-Wan, and Anakin was sent away for safety that quickly turned into cosmic warfare. Before that moment, he knows, on Tatooine it tried to run Anakin over with its bike. After that moment, he’d seen the monster—or what remained of it—being carried out of the Naboo palace on Master Obi-Wan’s back, moaning and delirious with pain, but dangerous nonetheless. It had bitten Obi-Wan so hard he’d flung it reflexively to the ground.

Down there, it had begged. “Honor,” it had rasped. “Give me honor. Give me death.”

Master Obi-Wan had picked it up by its arm, and it had whimpered in protest, “I fought with honor!”

Obi-Wan had ignored it. Anakin would have, too; this thing had killed Master Qui-Gon, and whether it had done so with honor or not didn’t matter when Master Qui-Gon was dead. It had killed the Jedi who’d won him, who chose to train Anakin, who was the only guarantor of his future safety, and he didn’t know what would happen now, and he hated it.

It had grown more frantic then, terrified. “Kill me, Jedi, please, when my Master—”

And Anakin had swallowed a cry of shocked recognition.)

Anakin will be ten in two months, and today he’s gonna see the monster again. It’s not the force that calls him down staircase after staircase to the oubliette below the oldest parts of the Jedi Temple. He’d be able to explain if it was the force, if he got caught, he thinks, but that’s not what’s going on. It’s just homesickness, and loneliness, and it is that word.

The way he said it.

Anakin has met more Masters in the last year of his life than ever before, has uttered the word more often than on Tatooine, and he’s doing pretty well, he thinks. He doesn’t flinch with his body when he says it and not with his face either, and even the highest Masters—there it is again—they can’t feel the acid in his force presence anymore.

He greets Master Obi-Wan in the morning and he bows to Grandmaster Yoda whenever they meet.

He doesn’t talk about his childhood. He doesn’t talk much, nowadays, to anyone but Master Obi-Wan or his teachers. He knows he’s weird. He wasn’t on Tatooine, but here… He doesn’t know the things the other padawans do, and his reflexive associations, his interests, his memories shock them. There’s no point, Anakin has learned, in expecting people who can say Master without galling—who don’t need to pretend enjoy it—to listen to him. They’ll never wake up in cold sweat and feel for the bomb that was cut out of their neck, that was injected into it while they were awake and their mother cried, that had so often almost gone off. They don’t cry for their Mom. They’ll only shush him when he talks of his past.

When he talks of his fears.

Of himself.

They’ll never understand him. No-one will. No-one will let him be the Anakin he really is, without fussing over him and muttering and looking like he should know better by now. No-one wants anything beyond the parts of himself he can salvage that are untainted by his past. The parts that don’t remember his mother.

The only person who listens to all of him is Palpatine, and even he often doesn’t know what to say.

No-one will understand, possibly, but…

The monster that lives down below the Jedi Temple had forced out Master like the word tastes of fire and dread.

Like it heralds pain.

The monster is a fellow slave, Anakin is sure. He’s the only being on Coruscant who might understand; the only person who will let him be whole. He’s killed Master Qui-Gon, yes, but he didn’t have a choice, just like Anakin wasn’t allowed to disobey his Master and neither was Mom or Kitster or Beru or anybody else back home.

It was so obvious, the moment he said it.

The monster’s a slave.

Point: Anakin is so tired of having to pretend he never was a slave.

Point also: He just found a map of all the layers of the temple in a garbage chute, wedged in a decommissioned droid’s dataslit. A map that shows the oubliette for ancient evils.

Point also also: Master Obi-Wan’s fast asleep, and Anakin can’t get his thoughts to stop racing.

The monster’s a fellow slave.

Ergo: it’s time to sneak down and make a friend.

What must be hundreds of meters below the current Jedi Temple, at the bottom of the bottom-most staircase, smells faintly of sweat and boredom and despair. The only illumination Anakin can make out is a set of force trellises, and if the schematics he found were right then that’s exactly the spot that he’s looking for.

Pulling his hood down deeper just because it’s chilly and definitely not because he’s nervous and needs something to fidget, he sneaks closer.

Victory!

The Sith’s inside the cell. He looks just like the attacker Anakin remembers, with a red-and-black face and some horns and a scowl. He looks completely different, too: he’s naked, or at least his torso is. The lower half of his body is just missing. Did the Jedi—but no, Anakin can dimly remember Master Obi-Wan mention the way he beat him. That he’s still without prosthetics, even though his scars are well-healed… Anakin knew a woman who’d survived a bomb blowing off her leg, on Tatooine. She lived off of fellow slaves’ charity, for a few months. Her head wasn’t all there anymore from the pain, Mom told Anakin, and her Master had just let her leave. Why invest in a prosthetic when you’re not getting any use from its recipient?

The Sith is doing better than her, at least, even if he’s missing way more flesh. He’s doing pull-ups off the head piece of his callow berth. His yellow eyes gleam in the soft light of the force trellis when he looks over. When he notices Anakin. For a long moment, he looks stunned, and only then he remembers to snarl.

“Hi,” Anakin says.

The prisoner puffs up his defined arm muscles, as well as he can when he’s still hanging off the frame of his bed. He must have decided that dropping down onto his torso—and probably his face—would be even less dignified, though, because he stays put, sweaty and glowering out at Anakin from under his armpit, like he’s desperately trying to look threatening and tough in an unfamiliar situation where the other person has all the power.

It’s a scene Anakin has known intimately for most of his life.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Anakin says.

A beat.

Right.

“The Jedi didn’t send me,” because in his situation that’s what Anakin would most like to know. The Jedi are not this guy’s slave masters, but they do have all the power over him right now.

“I was a slave too, before they took me here. You can trust me,” and at least that gets a reaction: the prisoner looks absolutely apoplectic and even opens his mouth. Finally! He’s angry, which isn’t ideal—Anakin should have remembered that some slaves don’t want to admit they are—but they’re talking!

But the Sith just closes his mouth again.

He keeps his sullen silence for what feels like hours while Anakin tries one conversational gambit after the other. He just can’t have blown his one chance at talking to someone whose mouth makes the right shape for Master. Anakin refuses to accept that.

But it grows later and later, and Master Obi-Wan will wake up at some point, and he doesn’t have to concede defeat for forever, after all, but maybe for today…

“Fine.” Anakin puffs out his chest. He should say something soothing that’ll buy him a foot in the door next time, but he’s been pleading and pleading, and it hurts. “I don’t even care if you don’t want to talk. I’ve got plenty of friends. Chancellor Palpatine asked me to come over for tea just yesterday!”

The voice is so threadbare that he almost misses it, but it’s there. The Sith clears his throat. He sounds more sure and velvety when he repeats his plea to Anakin. His golden eyes are so wide it looks painful.

“Wait! Repeat what you just said!”

.

Anakin is nineteen when he climbs down into the bowels of the Temple for the last time. He hasn’t slept for two days, barely even closed his eyes, because on the insides of his lids is his mother, writhing, pleading.

No-one up in the Temple can give him any help. All they have to offer is platitudes about Uncertain the future is and Let go of attachment you must, but it’s his Mom, and she’s being tortured! She’s dying! She can’t be dying! She’s Anakin’s Mom!

He’s pleaded to be sent to Tatooine on a mission, but Senator Amidala’s protection detail is more important Master Obi-Wan said, and he can’t just go against the will of his… He can’t go. His Mom’s dying every moment he closes his eyes and he can’t go.

Maul is his last hope.

No-one will even notice that Maul’s gone. He’s been locked up for a decade now, and only the meal droids and Anakin still climb down to his level. Anakin’s friends with the meal droids, too, and he can definitely talk them into keeping silent about the Sith prisoner’s disappearance.

Maul’s a fighter, and he was able to find them on Tatooine and follow them to Naboo so he must be able to find Anakin’s Mom, too, wherever she’s been dragged off to. He’ll be able to save her.

He’ll—

Anakin has already sliced the force trellis control panel and turned it off when the fear grabs him. He’s spilled all his nightmares of his mother’s death, has shared the only plan for her survival. He’s received the assent he was sure to get. Now, he’s helping Maul put on the smuggled prosthetics that have been hidden in the stuffing of Maul’s prison berth, kneeling down before him.

And suddenly, all he tastes in the air is raw hatred.

He flinches. The trellis must have functioned as a shield from Maul’s presence before, keeping Anakin from realizing the true depth of Maul’s anger, the extent of his strength.

He could kill Anakin right now. He could attack the temple, and it would all be Anakin’s fault.

The frailty and humiliations of the prisoner’s mutilated body have lulled Anakin into reacting with kindness. He’s seen a man who is weak, helpless, and of course he offered help.

The cadence of Maul’s voice has made him sound like a friend.

But he’s the Sith who slaughtered Master Qui-Gon.

He’s filled to the brim with hatred and jealousy and pain, the force around them screams, will never release them to meditation like Anakin has tried and tried to do; he’s everything the Jedi Council saw in Anakin that day a decade ago and that he’s tried so hard to bury. He’s a Sith.

He’s warm.

It’s not just the hand he rests on Anakin’s shoulder but the very air he expels. Anakin expected the dark side of the force to be frigid, the way his own loathing and terror have kept him shivering and cold, but this is a hearth: protection, purification, an almost magnetic pull. It wraps around them. He shudders again.

“Do not be afraid,” Maul says, and from the soft look in his eyes he has misunderstood completely. “I shall find your mother, apprentice. You will do admirably while I’m gone. Just remember everything I taught you.”

And then, the darkness curls around Anakin again, hot and possessive. “While I’m gone, don’t talk to Palpatine.”

.

Anakin is twenty-three when he decides to brutally murder the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. His wife is laying in the delivery room, holding the boy twin—holding their baby boy!—while he strokes her hair reverently, and there is his Mom beside him, holding the girl twin—holding their baby girl!—and next to the door, scowling, stands Maul.

“Do you want to hold her?” Mom asks Maul gently. She knows him best now, and if she decides Maul’s standoffishness towards the twins—his twins!—is shyness rather than dislike, then Anakin will forgive him for not cooing over the babies—his kids! His and Padmé’s kids!—like any rational person would.

“Even His patience runs out one day,” Maul whispers.

Anakin’s hairs curl in shocked recognition, and he doesn’t even need to hear the word, but—

“I told you, Shmi, he started talking to Anakin as soon as he arrived. Somehow I managed to keep them apart, to interfere with the attempts at molding him, but the very fact He showed interest must warn us… As soon as he learns of this birth, and His spies are everywhere…” Maul turns back towards the door, palms laid across it as if he could keep the gate shut. The force burns with shielding hatred. “My Master will come for your children. Soon. Palpatine likes them young.”

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Finally finished this! Sorry I’m a bit late.

Made this song in pairing with a new Revalink soulmark fic: Paraphrase

Based on a prompt @motherhyrule (Happy Birthday and thanks!)

Read it on AO3 or, here...

Chapter 1: Holes

There were holes in the sky.

While the artificial blue glow of Vah Medoh was a constant reminder of abnormal circumstances of this view—looking out into the east, you could be fooled for a moment to believe in serenity.

The details of the great, inky abyss were blurred by the occasional grey cloud, crawling towards the light of a decaying moon. Its pale, crescent complexion gave a humble glow to the dancing seas of grass and the motionless hills of glistening lake water. Below, wooden huts embraced one another on the edges of an ancient spire. The winds had crafted a fine sculpture, the unique silhouette of Rito Village cast faint shadows on Lake Totori.

There was distant whistling from either the cutting breeze or a bored village guard, perhaps leaning against his spear, dreaming of slumber.

There's a fire, somewhere. A spiral of smoke rises with a delicious aroma fantastic enough to reach the heights of Medoh. Someone making a late-night stew, under the dotted, broken sky.

If you could tear your eyes away from the nature down below, the navy blue canvas would still be there to greet you—a perfect night that cloaked any traces of the sun, as if time was always meant to be this way. Unchanging, and ever an elegant, unrivaled mix of blue, black, and grey.

But of course, unchanging was not everlasting. The perfect canvas was pierced by the frozen heights of Hebra, and flaming stars. Whole armies of them were scattered across the sky, as if the goddess had flicked a handful of embers at the night, burning through the blue and into an unknown.

"I heard that stars are actually holes into the heavens." Link finally said. "Like...They break through the sky, and at night you can look through them and see the great beyond." He leaned back, shifting himself into a more comfortable position on the rocky cliff.

The ghost beside him raised an eyebrow, wings tucked behind his back.

"Oh? And where exactly did you hear that?"

Silence.

The boy looks out to the distant mountains, wreathed in grey clouds with filtered moonlight. When the wind blows his golden hair just the right way, you could catch a glimpse of a familiar expression.

"...I'm not too sure."

Revali nodded, looking back into the night. He stood beside the hero, and let a quiet sigh escape him, the turquoise flames that circled around the Rito seemed to rise and fall with his chest. "Well. I cannot confirm or deny such a thing, but I imagine it's a decent enough fairy tale to entertain the fledglings."

Link scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips. "Really? They don't give you a big ghost book on how all of life works? What's the point of being dead if you don't know the answer to all the fancy questions?"

"I appear to have missed Hylia's educational spirit lecture. Perhaps my schedule was busy at the time. I do apologize."

"Don't apologize to me! You're the one who missed a once-in-a-afterlife-time opportunity."

"..."

"...Too soon?"

"No, it was just a horrible joke."

"Pfft. Well OK, Mr. 'Well I'll be plucked'"

"I don't think I'm going to accept criticism from someone who's sense of humor isn't even a year old."

"Aha...Fair enough."

A chuckle. A nod. A smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Silence.

The moon crawls further west. Winds start to die with conversation.

The ghost sighs again, but of course, no breath escapes him. Something itches in the back of his mind, and he looks up at Medoh.

Her phantom blue eyes pierce both mortal and incorporeal, yet there's a tenderness in the way her head tilts towards Revali—every so slightly so as not to wake the whole kingdom with the groan of gears. The gesture is wordlessly understood by her pilot, something about speaking the unspoken. He clicks his tongue.

I don't remember flipping a relationship advice switch in your control unit...

Medoh's lights glow brighter and dim, playfully.

The Rito shakes his head.

No, he thinks again. It's better this way.

The Champion looks out towards Hyrule Castle, Medoh's red laser aimed directly into the heart of the swirling malice. From this view, it’s almost beautiful. Like layered petals of a rose...

I cannot wait to burn it to the ground.

"Yeah..." Link replied. "Don't worry, Revali. It'll be different this time. I won't let you down, again."

The Rito blinked. "Ah. Did I...say that outloud?"

Link nodded, tilting his head to the side with a smile. "You always seem in such deep thought when looking at Medoh. Your face gets a lot more s—uh...I don't know... " He trailed off, making the wise decision to not finish the sentence. Afterall, he wanted to hang out for a little bit longer before Revali's glares punted him to the Akkalain Sea.

Nonetheless, Revali grimaced. Looking at him? Acknowledging him? Oh, there was nothing worse in the world than that...

Time really can change anything.

"Hmph. Well," Revali turned his head back towards Medoh, "With Windblight gone, it's nice to actually have conversations...As unconventional as they may be." He makes sure that his smile can only be seen by the sky.

"She's good company."

Link picks at loose pebbles, tossing them off the cliff and letting gravity take them to new destinations. His hands are already coated in a dusty beige dust.

"Well, if Medoh ever becomes a bore. My schedule's always open." He chuckles. "I'm certainly a different sort of company in comparison, so I should be able to spice up your d—!"

"No."

The iciness of his tone runs Link's spine cold. He dares to look up at the Champion.

It takes all of Revali's strength to continue staring at the stars.

"You should really stop coming here, Link. You have a job to do, and so do I. You gain nothing by returning here each night."

He pauses, his beak clenched just a bit too tightly.

"You did well, avenging me, but now...Your job here is done, and there is more work to do. The fact that you keep visiting each night while the world fades away is pathetic, honestly. You banter and quip as if you have all the time in the world, as if everything doesn't depend on your success. Quit acting childish."

Silence. It drowns out the whistling wind.

Revali looks at the holes in the sky.

"It'll be morning in a few, so get lost. I don't need you here."

The Rito can feel the hero's eyes tearing into him.

= = = = = = =

"Careful now! Can't have you return with half a head. Can I?" Revali loosed an arrow just above Link's head, striking true in a Bokoblin's right eye.

Link whips around just in time to see the monster drop dead, just a foot away from where the knight stood. He turns back and gives the Rito a thumbs up in gratitude.

"Eye think that solves that problem." Link groans and rolls his eyes, but Revali smirks at the grin he attempts to hide. "Ah...One of the best things about these occasions is that you're in no position to quip back at me with your hands full like that." Revali shoots him a wink. "Perhaps I'll interpret your silence as overwhelming awe for my verbal abilities."

The Rito bows left and right, playfully. "Thank you, thank you. It takes a great deal of practice, but perhaps you'll grace my level of skill one day."

Link signs as best he can with the Master Sword in his left grip.

"You're an asshole."

"Perhaps. But it's your fault for sticking around!"

"On your left..." He suddenly says.

There's no hesitation as Revali moves his head out of the way, letting Link swing his sword over his shoulder. A brilliant beam of blue light escapes the edge of his sword, the disc of energy making contact with a Bokoblin's neck, slicing it asunder mid-roar.

"Hmm. Now that's just breath taki—"

"Shut UP!" Link says, knocking an elbow into his ribs. He starts to sign again. "Let's keep heading east. We need to close this pincer quickly. I'd like to finish before lunch..."

The Rito scans the snow covered path, littered with monster guts and blood. Deep reds and purple stain the pristine, crisp morning. The sky is a deep green, pine trees covering the day, dressed in coats of white. The breeze blows the smell of rotting corpses and hickory his way.

"Alright. Let's get a move on. Don't need the Princesses yelling at us again."

"A bit late for that, don't you think?"

The boys both look up in time to see a large burst of water erupt from a nearby cliff. It cascades into a shimmering slide, that freezes as it flows. A bright red Zora flips through the air and descends on it, landing delicately in front of the two. She gives a warm smile that could melt the winter.

"Shall I assume you ran into some chuchu troubles, again?"

Revali scoffed. "That was one time!"

"Hehehe...chuchu go 'sluuurrrp...'"

"Plus, that incident was entirely a certain knight's fault. I've been nothing but incredibly efficient and productive, since then."

"And your tail feathers are all the better for it!"

Revali thwacked Link with his bow to shut him up. The knight rubbed the back of his head with an "Ow..." and shot a rude glare, but the Rito continued. "So where is the Princess?"

Mipha gestured uphill to where she had come from, her magical waterfall already beginning to melt away. "We finished cleaning up the other end of the Tabantha path. She's met up with Urbosa and Daruk by one of the bridges."

The Zora smiles as she looks between Revali and Link. "I volunteered to check on you two while the others headed back. Neither of you need help cleaning chuchu slime out of your hair, yes? I do have the pliers, this time."

Revali's rageful squawk was drowned out by Link's laughter.

Before the trio's banter could truly serenade with the sounds of the forest, Mipha was off to regroup with the others, and Link was soaring in the sky.

The sky was open and clear, not a speck of grey clouded the air. The sun was perched comfortably on the heights of Tabantha ridge, painting the horizon with strokes of orange, the distance blushing in the morning's presence.

The wind flipped Link's hair back and forth, so he finished tying the braid behind his neck, woven tightly with a single, Prussian blue feather. Its tip looked like someone had dipped it in the moon's pale glow.

Braid or no, the heights above Lake Totori were quite cold, and Link nuzzled himself further into Revali's soft feathers. If he were any softer, it wouldn't be out of the question to drown in him.

"You're distracting me." Revali craned his neck back, raising an eyebrow at his passenger. "Keep it together, back there."

The hero shrugged his shoulders. "It's cold."

"I told you to drink another elixir before I took off."

"I wasn't cold then! Besides," He flopped back into the Rito's soft down. "This is adequate protection." Link's words were slightly muffled as he spoke.

Revali sighed. "You're insufferable..."

Eying the destination down below, the Rito rolled his shoulders to get Link's attention. "Keep steady. We're almost there." He started to dip forward.

"And try not to go flying, I imagine it won't work out well for you."

Before Link could even process his words, his stomach started to drop. Falling fast, Revali arched nearly perpendicular to the ground, his bright blue scarf flapping behind him. The Hylian on his back could do nothing but grip onto his armour for dear life, clothes flapping wildly. His loose sleeves caught the wind, pushing them back to reveal pale gold letters, etched in the underside of his right forearm.

Leaving so soon?

The wind rushed by Link's ears, and the sky quickly faded from the cerulean glow of morning, to the snow laced air of the Hebra. What was once broad strokes of indistinct colors soon morphed into the intricate faults, flaws, and edges of towering grey mountain peaks. With the heavens stolen from them, and the frozen earth quickly coming to greet them, Revali quickly opened his wings to catch the air, swooping just above the ground and shooting forward towards the Flight Range.

Rows of cool safflina and wildberries whizzed by, the scent of smoked boar drawing closer and closer. Revali could practically feel Link's appetite from aura alone. Although, the fact that his grip on his back was starting to tighten didn't exactly keep it subtle, either.

"I left the stew going before we headed out for the mission. It should be perfect by now..." He tucked his wings into himself with a quick twirl as he shot through a narrow pass.

The cold updrafts of the Flight Range now biting into his face; the Rito let his wings expand with a few more great flaps, before landing gracefully on the railing of the wooden platform.

Link practically soared off Revali's back and bounded straight for the simmering pot.

"'Thank you, Revali, for giving me a ride across all of Tabantha without asking for so much as a rupee in return!' Oh, you're so welcome, my dear hero. It's always a pleasure to aid a flightless Hylian in need." He shook his head as he made his way into the hut.

"'Oh, but really Revali! The speed at which you travel, and the strength required to take on my loathsome person as you fly is truly something to admire. It's a miracle you took me with you at all.' Why, you are much too generous with your compliments, Link. I have half a mind to write this all down for—MmMph?!"

In a brilliant move of both telling Revali to shut the fuck up, while also sharing their meal, Link shoved a ladleful of delicious stew in the Rito's beak.

Warm, savoury stew trickled down his throat, banishing the cold from his body in mere moments. His tastebuds were nestled with flavours of nutmeg, tender meat, and the delicate heat of a perhaps a single, spicy pepper.

Link's expression was equal parts, "Will you shut up now?" and "So how's it taste?"

"Not too bad...The prime meat I procured is obviously the main event. But your seasoning skills are certainly something of note..." Revali made his way to one of the cabinets, as Link rolled his eyes.

The Rito set his bow beside the Master Sword, leaning it against the painted wood. His eyes lingered on it for a bit too long, before he scoffed and continued on his routine.

Quiver on the counter; bomb arrows wrapped properly; armour loosened and set aside; scarf—

The feathers on Revali's neck suddenly floofed up at Link's touch. But he didn't dare turn around and risk losing the sensation.

He carefully unfolded the fabric around Revali's neck, and drew it off his shoulder. He wrapped it around himself, and signed at the Rito, "Mine, now."

The Rito chuckled, before turning back around to look at the hero, now adorned with far too much blue. Blue tunic, blue scarf, and sapphire eyes—it wouldn't be out of the question to mistake him for the sky.

Link stretched out his hand, and traced the edges of Revali's face, eventually falling down his neck, and towards his shoulders. His fingers eventually hovered over some familiar words that wrapped down the left side of his neck and down his shoulder.

You should give yourself more credit.

They both did nothing but smile at each for a moment, leaning closer and succumbing to the moment. Revali could already feel Link's breath, and see the bits of snow still sticking to his (horribly) braided hair.

The Hylian saw something curious in the Rito's expression as he planted a kiss on the tip of his beak. Looking back up at his jade eyes, he couldn't help but smile wide. Revali cocked an eyebrow.

"Something to say?"

Quiet. The fire chuckled in the background.

Link finally leaned in and whispered to him.

"You smell like shit."

Revali scoffed loudly before shoving Link to the carpet, where he burst out laughing, the wind carrying it to the spirits above.

"Gods, you're insufferable. Why do I settle for you..."

Link unsuccessfully attempted to toss a pillow in his face in revenge—Revali catching it with ease.

"Beats me! Now come here, you stinky bird." He patted the space in front of the fire. No doubt he wanted to sit between his wings again

"Stew or no, I need you to keep me toasty."

In no time, Revali had sat down and wrapped himself around Link, resting his beak on his head.

A hole in the ceiling let sunlight trickle on them as they warmed up.

= = = = = = = 

Link finally sighed, the sound falling off into the void below.

"You-I can't-It was never..." He trails off, before chucking another pebble off the cliff, shaking his head.

"...I'm sorry. I know that you...That we're not really...friends or whatever...I don't mean to force you into anything uncomfortable. I owe you that much..." He looked up at the spirit, a determined look on his face.

"But, don't worry. Whatever mess I was before, whatever person you hated 100 years ago. They're gone, now. I promise I'm different. I promise I won't repeat whatever mistakes I made with you."

Revali just wants to die all over again.

"Well. That's good to hear. Perhaps there's hope for you yet, hero..." He walks forward, so he can't see his face, pointing a translucent feather far out east.

"I'd say your next objection should be Rudania. It's the closest. You can backtrack through whatever roads you've already trailed through getting here." The Rito then waved towards some glistening summits just a bit south. "Although, you said you've been to Kakariko and Hateno, yes? You could probably trek to Zora's Domain from there. The Zora will no doubt be a great asset to your further adventures—"

"Who was I closest to?"

Revali knew it was impossible to feel cold at this point, but he felt something shiver nonetheless.

"What do you mean?"

"Like...the pilots I mean. Was I...particularly close with any of them?"

"Well how should I know!" Revali snapped. He immediately regretted it seeing the look in Link's eyes. "I mean...sorry..."

Silence.

"...Mipha would be overjoyed to see you, I'm sure." He pointed again towards the cliffs surrounding Zora's Domain. "She had quite the heart...She'll make better company than I, I'm sure."

"Mhm...Alright." Link nodded to himself.

"But whatever you choose, don't try taking on Naboris, yet. Urbosa was one of the strongest warriors that even I've ever met. So I imagine that what awaits there is...deserving of more preparation."

The moon escaped from the clutches of a grey cloud, and the two of them were bathed in moonlight.

The knight's sword on his back glistens.

"I'll start making preparations tomorrow, and I'll finally be out of your hair." Link scratched the back of his head. "Although...I hope you don't mind if I come back every now and then to get pointers on using your Gale. I really only used it that one time when you gave it to me, and I've been a bit scared ever since, aha..."

Revali nodded. "That would be a more productive use of your time, yes."

Link finally stood, adjusting the strap of his sword around his shoulder.

"S-So...with Mipha. I actually heard from Kass that...uh he's—well you see, I figured you could confirm if she actually—"

"Stop." His response was as sudden as thunder. Link started sputtering again.

"S-Sorry. I know you just s—"

"Stop doing that. Stop trying to learn about the past, there's nothing for you there." Revali poked a feather at Link's head, which surprisingly made physical contact as he flinched away. "You've been given a gift, you understand? You have the luxury of being unburdened by the pains and memories of 100 years ago, while the rest of us have been stuck wallowing in what we once knew for over a century. Things that we can never attain now that we are dead." He glared, eyes sharp enough to stab into Link's flesh.

"It'd be an insult to the rest of us to throw away such a gift. So stop being ungrateful, and move on."

Silence.

Revali sighed, turning back towards Medoh. "Now get los—"

"You have no right to speak to me like that!"

The Rito whipped around. "Excuse me?"

"You don't know what it's like!" Link stomped a foot down. "You don't know what it's like, to have no attachments, no nothing to grasp onto!"

The Hylian shook his head, looking at his hands. "You're dead because of my failures, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I really am. But..." He looked the Rito, dead in the eyes. "But now I have nothing of value. Nothing to tell me what I'm worth, besides being a fighter. Besides defeating the Calamity. I don't know what kind of person I need to be," He waves a hand at Revali, "Or even what person I should try not to be. I can't...I don't want to just be nothing. Nothing but a sword and useless snippets of a dead past.

"So don't try and tell me there's nothing for me in the past. I need to know what I was, what I lost, and what I did wrong. N-Not just for me, but for everyone's sake! I want to truly know what this is all for, even if it hurts me..."

Link looked down, caressing his right wrist. "I want to know...what it was like to be complete...at the very least..."

Revali looked him up and down, something clawing up the inside of his chest, threatening to escape as dangerous words.

"...Let me see your arm."

"What—?"

"Hurry up, and just come."

Link cautiously stepped closer to Revali, extending his right arm towards him, like a handshake. But he roughly tugged him closer and folded the sleeve of his Rito garb away, exposing the skin to the crisp night air.

Pale gold letters adorned Link's inner arm, running from his wrist to his inner elbow.

Why did you think it was impossible?

The Rito nodded to himself. He had noted the first word being different when he had first reunited with Link, but it put him at ease—and completely shattered something—to have his suspicions confirmed.

"Do you know what this is, hero?"

"Yeah, it's a soulmark. This is probably what my soulmate 100 years ago said when they—"

"No." Revali let his arm fall, turning away. "It's a soulmark alright, but your soulmate is very much alive."

"Wh-What?!" Link started to walk up to Revali. "T-That's impossible! I-It's been over a hundred—"

"That's not the soulmark you had when I met you." Revali said simply. "You died. You were revived. You are adorned with a new mark, and are destined for someone new. Or someones. Or, maybe your soulmate is just yourself, it really depends..." He turned his head back.

Link was just staring at his arm. He bore no smile, but Revali could see the new fire in his eyes.

"It's like I said. It'd be an insult to go digging up the past. But I suppose I can't stop you..." Revali continued to make his way to Medoh. "You want something to fight for? Fight for that..."

The moon disappeared behind another cloud, and the glow of Medoh was all that bathed them. Link finally looked up, calling after the ghost in the mist.

"I...Thank you, Revali. But just so you know..." The Rito Champion turned, staring directly at the hero's determined expression.

"This doesn't change what I want. I still intend to know who I was."

There was quiet as they each looked at their ghosts.

Revali sighed, giving a sad nod.

"I know."

He disappeared in glowing blue flames, the embers falling towards the stars.